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Stress show

Panicking with a passed-out passenger

By Andrew Crider

I started the day with a plan to meet a friend in Richmond. The plan was to fly my friend over Richmond, the Virginia state capital, in my Van’s RV–12 and then fly to Hummel Field (W75) for a fly-in.

Illustrations by Alex Williamson and Steve Karp (sidebar)
Zoomed image
Illustrations by Alex Williamson and Steve Karp (sidebar)

We flew over the city and it was all smiles. As we were transitioning to the cruise, departing Richmond International Airport Class C westbound, I gave my passenger a check-up “you good?” just to make sure we still wanted to fly to our destination.

All good! Smiles and laughter.

Two minutes later my passenger called out, “Wow, I’m feeling really lightheaded.”

I immediately looked at the altitude thinking it was hypoxia, and when I read that we were only at 3,000 feet, I was confused.

My friend repeated, “Wow, I’m really lightheaded.”

It was lights out from there; in 10 seconds my passenger slouched over. I cued the mic to declare an emergency.

“November-Nine-Two-Eight-Alpha-Charlie declaring an emergency.” I looked at the map on the Dynon GPS and the first airport code I saw was Hanover County Municipal Airport (OFP), so I said, “I need an ambulance to meet me at Hanover.”

But then I realized Hanover was 7 nautical miles to my right, but Richmond (RIC) was 4 miles to my left, with its own aircraft rescue and firefighting (ARFF) unit. I would like to believe I added “Disregard,” but I continued my callout by saying “I need an ambulance at Richmond on the state ramp.”

At this point, 30 to 60 seconds after the emergency started, I was pointed directly at the number 16 at RIC, and I was hard charging. My passenger woke up with a smile and a bit of confusion. I calmly said, “Hey, we are just going to land at Richmond, everything is OK.”

I had pointed the airplane at Runway 16, with no regard for weather or traffic. But I was routed behind a Gulfstream landing on Runway 34. The no-flap landing was a squeaker. Even my passenger who had just woken up said it was smooth.

I was trying to joke about the situation to keep my passenger in good spirits. I was also relaying information to ATC about the nature of the emergency, and we discussed where to park. ATC rejected the state ramp idea; I countered with the ARFF building, and we settled on Richmond Jet Center. ARFF met us there. The FBO was hospitable; ARFF was professional and did its job. My passenger was OK.

It’s shocking how quickly you forget everything in an emergency. I was acting and deciding at the same time, which is only good if you train for the right decisions and procedure. I skipped over a lot of the right procedures. I made the landing a squeaker, I communicated effectively, but I changed my decision to go to Hanover because I didn’t think before acting.

I was laser-focused on landing on Runway 16. I should have thought about the weather and slowed down to get more information about RIC. I also was so focused on flying that I never checked to make sure my passenger was breathing. I just went with “they passed out.”

Practice your emergencies. If I’m honest, I assumed a smile passed the IMSAFE checklist. It did not.

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