Checklist discipline

I was single pilot carrying four or five passengers, all of whom were executives from Arkansas Children’s Hospital. It was my second time ever flying this airplane—the first being the early morning departure from Little Rock to get my passengers to Jackson.

The airplane was incredibly hot during the middle afternoon departure and climbout, which I attributed to the older age of the airplane and likely ineffectiveness of the air-conditioning system on the ground during the summer. I assumed it would cool down once we got up to altitude, but unfortunately, it never did, only getting hotter as every minute went by. I asked the passengers if they wanted me to divert, but they all insisted that I just get them home. I was OK with it, as I was used to flying in the KC–135, which can reach as hot as 120 degrees Fahrenheit in the flight deck during the summer.

Upon return to Little Rock, I noticed a relatively large and severe afternoon thunderstorm was developing over Central Arkansas and was very close to the airport. I flew my first approach to a go-around because of a crosswind shear, which likely would have been followed by a loss shear. Additionally, the strong and gusty crosswind put me in an unstable situation, and I was too low to attempt to salvage the approach.

I executed the go-around, stabilized the aircraft, and then I grabbed my iPad to review another approach option. It was then that I learned it had shut itself down because of an overheat. My backup iPad had also overheated and shut down. So much for digital technology. I requested and attempted a second visual approach to another runway that was more in line with the winds, but ended up having to execute a second go-around because I lost sight of the runway environment at approximately 100 feet agl. I again executed the go-around and went straight into the thunderstorm, which had overtaken the midfield portion of the runway and was about to overtake the approach end in a matter of seconds. I had never seen a storm move that fast in my entire career.

I immediately transitioned to instruments and made a 30-degree left turn to exit the thunderstorm, all while being shaken and bounced around like I’ve never experienced before. Three of the passengers in the back area were in a panic, crying and being extremely loud, while a fourth tried to calm them down so as not to distract me. I eventually departed IMC and was out of the thunderstorm, heading south and calling ATC to ask for vectors to the airport that I had flown over roughly 20 miles south of town.

Shortly after landing and during the taxi into the FBO my adrenaline rush started to subside. It was at that time that I began to notice a foul odor in the airplane. I turned around to find that one passenger had vomited, which led the others to start sympathetically vomiting. The odor overtook me, and I started to heave and gag as I shut down the engines, darting for the door to get out of the airplane. Once out I helped my passengers out, I suggested that they call for a ride to ferry them back to Little Rock.

The combination of compounding circumstances could have led to a fatal outcome. I attribute the successful outcome to the stick-and-rudder training and experience I developed as an U.S. Air Force T–6 instructor.What started out as a hot airplane turned into a compounded physiological emergency situation, inadvertent flight into IMC, and severe turbulence in IMC, all at low altitudes. I immediately called the chief pilot to inform him of what happened and to inquire as to why the AC system wasn’t working. His response to me was mind blowing.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you about the aft blower switch,” he said. I told him I wasn’t aware of any aft blower switch. He followed up with “But it was on the checklist and you should have caught it.”

I quickly reminded him that less than two weeks previous he instructed me to memorize the checklist, develop my flow, and not spend 10 minutes on the ramp with the customers in the airplane, with engines running fat fingering through a checklist. I reminded him of his words to “memorize the checklist and throw that thing in the back seat,” which, against my better judgment is exactly what I did. The one item in the after-engine start flow that was different in this aircraft than the other late model King Air I was accustomed to flying was the aft blower switch. If that switch was not turned on prior to the air-conditioning system being turned on, then a capacitor in the wing root would trip, causing the AC system to not work. I was not aware of this order of operations at the time.

The combination of compounding circumstances could have led to a fatal outcome. I attribute the successful outcome to the stick-and-rudder training and experience I developed as an U.S. Air Force T–6 instructor. There is no substitute for basic hand flying, stick-and-rudder experience combined with a well-developed instrument cross check. That day I met the true limits of my capabilities and vowed to never let a situation like that happen again. There is no substitution for checklist discipline, and letting an employer or a customer tell you otherwise can lead to disastrous consequences.

Chris Powers is an ATP and the owner of a Van's RV-10.