By the time you fly with one, the company, broker, or individual selling the airplane—especially a turbine-powered one—has checked out your financial health and pilot qualifications. Only then will you be ushered into the cockpit. By then, ideally, you’ve had a preflight briefing with the demo pilot. He or she is part instructor, part co-pilot, part eagle-eyed observer, and part psychologist. But make no mistake, his or her job is to show off the airplane’s attributes. This calls for tact if the prospect is unfamiliar with the airplane.
When I began flying turbine airplanes for AOPA Pilot stories years ago, I once had a demo pilot who kept a low profile. He handled the radio work and talked me through programming the avionics and the configurations for various flight profiles. But mostly he kept the chatter to a minimum. He was letting me feel things out on my own. In a descent I was late pulling back the power, so airspeed built and the aural overspeed warning blared on for what seemed like an eternity until I managed to slow the ship down. From the right seat, silence. He was letting me learn on my own. It was a lesson I never forgot.
Doing unbriefed edge-of-the-envelope maneuvers, such as full-blown stalls and engine-out work, is best avoided on a first demo flight.When we began the initial leg of an instrument approach, he said simply, “ready for flaps one.” It was a nonjudgmental, informed suggestion, not a command. And another lesson, never forgotten, about staying ahead of a fast airplane.
Large manufacturers have entire teams of demo pilots. In the case of long-legged, big-cabin airplanes, demo pilots typically fly with senior pilots in corporate flight departments. Frequently, the missions are to duplicate the flights that corporate executives would make. Ideally, the sales team will try to give the CEO or other decision maker an extended ride in a big-cabin, global-range jet. Sometimes their friends or spouses may come along. “Get the boss aboard and that’ll usually close the deal,” goes one saying. A lot is at stake. The sales effort keeps the assembly lines running, and sales personnel often earn a percentage of the sales price.
I’ve also worked with less-than-exemplary demo pilots. Some were control freaks, some talked too much, and some focused on reversing an airplane’s reputation as, say, having a nasty stall, or being hard to land, or having tricky handling characteristics or puzzling systems. One time I found myself at 14,000 feet in a turboprop twin with a smallish wing area and jet-like cruise speeds. To prove it had a docile stall, the demo pilot talked me through an imminent stall, then banked the airplane aggressively. No, it didn’t roll off into a spin, but it was uncomfortable to say the least. Doing unbriefed edge-of-the-envelope maneuvers, such as full-blown stalls and engine-out work, is best avoided on a first demo flight. These can do more to perpetuate an airplane’s negative stereotypes than correct them. Some risky profiles are best addressed with a mentor/instructor or in a simulator.
As for landings, all airplanes have their own quirks when it comes to the short-final transition to the roundout, flare, and touchdown. Usually, the problem is too much speed.
In an Embraer Phenom 100, a demo pilot recommended pulling the power levers an inch or two back as the nose came up on the runway threshold. By the time the airplane reached the threshold, airspeed began to bleed off slightly. Go to idle power, flare ever so little, and an acceptable landing usually ensues. Then the issue is dealing with the brakes, which in early Phenoms were grabby. It could be easy to swerve a bit if you tried to finesse a gradual slowdown. “Just jump on them and get it over with,” was the demo pilot’s sage advice.
I would never claim perfection when it comes to landings—in any airplane!—but to all the demo pilots I’ve flown with over the years, many thanks for the innumerable skills you’ve passed on. I’ve learned a lot.