A very dark night

We were supposed to fly from Columbia, South Carolina, to Demopolis, Alabama, and arrive before dark. It was the middle of January, and the weather looked pretty good on our flight plan, as long as we stayed on a southwest heading.

My son and I were going to visit my father, and flying was much better than the seven-plus-hour drive. We were flying a fixed-gear Piper Cherokee 180 with a cruise speed of roughly 120 knots. The trip would take us across Alabama, almost to Meridian, Mississippi, my alternate airport since it had an instrument approach. Demopolis had an NDB instrument approach, but Meridian had an ILS. It was cloudy and getting darker. I did not doubt that an instrument approach would be used since it would be dark. Fortunately, there was no rain forecast and only light winds.

I checked the approach plates for both airports, spending more time on the Demopolis NDB plate. We were flying in classic IFR conditions. We could not see any lights on the ground and were surrounded by darkness. The only light in the cockpit came from the instrument gauges. I concentrated on my scan and did not look out of the cockpit.

I did have one thing that gave me great confidence. A little over two weeks before this trip, I had earned my instrument rating. They say that your instrument skills will never be better than right after you receive an instrument rating. I was counting on that being true.

Everything in the cockpit was set up and ready to go. The NDB approach was dialed in, and I waited for the needle to move. I set up the unicom frequency of 122.8 MHz and hoped someone at the airport could help if needed. I told Demopolis traffic I was inbound Runway 22. As soon as I let go of the button, I heard, “cleared for the approach. Your father and I were wondering when you would show up.” No radio message ever sounded so good. Unfortunately, the next message was not so good.

“If possible, you need to expedite your approach. In another 10 or 15 minutes, the fog from the Black River will rise, and I don’t think you will be able to land.”

I told myself to be calm and fly the approach. It was 4.4 miles to the runway.

The person in the terminal was a retired U.S. Air Force colonel. He ran the airport, but most important, he had flown almost everything the Air Force had, and he understood my situation. It was time to concentrate, make the NDB needle happy, and land the airplane. Everything in the cockpit looked good, and I told my son to look for the rotating beacon. Immediately, he pointed toward the light. I turned to set up for the landing.

It was one of the best landings I have ever made. I beat the fog by a few minutes, but now it covered the runway, and I could not see anything. I called the colonel and told him the problem. He had all the airport lights on, but that fog was dense. Since he could see me, he gave me progressive taxi instructions. Pulling up in front of the terminal and seeing my father and the colonel was wonderful. Later that night, my father told me the colonel told him I was a good pilot. I felt very good.

The lessons from that trip were many. Leave early, practice night flying, stay current, and always do some instrument flying. Most important, be ready for the unexpected and remain calm and confident.