Your airplane

This exchange between two pilots may seem like overkill for anyone except a professional flight crew or a newbie just trying to pass a checkride. Based on my experience, though, I wonder how many loss-of-control events occur from a clumsy, or nonexistent, transfer of aircraft control between two pilots. Many of these don’t cause enough damage to make their way into the NTSB accident database but can hurt airplanes and people, nevertheless.

Several years ago, I found myself basking in the glory of a beautiful fall day at one of my favorite local grass strips. The hum of an engine pulled my attention toward the downwind leg of the pattern where I saw an Aeronca Champ setting up for a landing. The neat orange and yellow airplane turned final and floated toward a point near the beginning of the runway. The mains touched down, and as the tail lowered, the nose began to yaw to the left. Without the usual wagging of the rudder during the landing roll, the aircraft continued its yaw and reversed direction as its right wing scraped the grass and ultimately came to a stop near the edge of the runway. I had never seen a ground loop before and, while the event was over in a few seconds, it seemed to happen in slow motion. After the pilots taxied the airplane to the tiedown spots and shut down, two flight instructors hopped out and joined us on the porch. They explained that each of them thought the other was landing the airplane so, it turned out, that nobody was in control, and they were both along for the ride. Fortunately, the Champ was fine and any damage that day was limited to egos.

Lesson: Always ensure someone is controlling the airplane.

On another fall day, my student Jim and I returned to the Sewanee Airport (UOS) from a local flight in my Cessna Aerobat Wilbur. Sewanee is nestled atop and near the edge the southern part of the Cumberland Plateau and winds from the west often hit the side of the plateau and swirl around the airport. Visitors, and even based pilots, need to stay on their toes to land in the typical gusty conditions. Wilbur’s light wing loading makes that task even more challenging. As perceptive as I try to be as an instructor, I woefully underestimated Jim’s discomfort as he turned onto short final and approached our runway surrounded by tall trees. He managed to guide the Aerobat toward the flare but, as Wilbur swayed and yawed back and forth, Jim apparently had enough. He suddenly threw his hands up in the air and snapped his feet from the rudder pedals and yelled, “Your airplane!” Fortunately, my hands and feet were sufficiently close to the controls, so I jumped on them and landed Wilbur without incident. But, wow, that was a close one.

After the ground portion of an instrument practical exam, my candidate Sarah dutifully performed the items on the start-up checklist of the Diamond DA40. On the CTAF, she announced her intentions to taxi toward the designated runup area. Sarah moved the throttle lever forward and, once the Diamond rolled a few feet forward, she stomped on the toe brakes and the airplane came to a stop. Sarah hadn’t retarded the throttle, so I felt the airplane still straining to move forward. She then pulled her feet from the toe brakes and blurted, “Your controls!” Most candidates ask me first if I would like to check my brakes before releasing the controls, so I wasn’t expecting the exchange. As the Diamond lurched forward, my knees hit the panel as my feet tried to find the toe brakes as we careened toward to a line of aircraft just a few feet away. Fortunately, I found the brakes just in time to avoid slicing up a row of brand-new DA40s with our propeller. Another close one.

Lesson: Always ensure both pilots know who is supposed to be in control.

On a flight instructor practical exam, I assumed command of the Piper Archer in what I considered to be a clear exchange of flight controls with my candidate Brian. I guided the aircraft through an intentionally sloppy power-off stall so that he could assess my performance and provide appropriate feedback. The rudder pedals of the Archer seemed especially hard to push as I tried to keep the nose from wandering. It all made more sense when I glanced to the right and saw Brian’s feet on the rudder pedals too. I asked, “Who is controlling this airplane?” Brian sheepishly pulled his feet away from the pedals. As I set up for a power-on stall, I noticed his white-knuckled hands as well as his feet creep back toward the controls until I could feel his inputs again. Unfortunately, that practical exam didn’t end well for him as I couldn’t get him to completely relinquish the controls. Now, a flight instructor must always be at the ready to jump onto the controls, but sharing the controls with the student is confusing and hinders her learning. Looking relaxed but ready to pounce is one of the skills that is tough but necessary for a CFI to hone.

Lesson: Always ensure both pilots know who is not supposed to be in control.

I confess that I’m one of those pilots who didn’t put much thought into the significance of a proper exchange of flight controls early on. But I witness these control exchange fails so often that these experiences and their lessons seem worth sharing. I’ve learned over the years that the positive exchange of flight controls procedure is to ensure someone is controlling the airplane, that both pilots know who it is, and that they both know who it isn’t. It’s helpful advice for anytime two pilots fly together.