The spirit of the maneuver

Since the 1,000-foot markers are 150 feet long, I instructed him to either touch down on the paint or very soon after the markers’ end. Sure enough, I felt the wheels contact the runway just as the end of the markers passed and heard Eddie breathe a sigh of relief, enjoying a moment of satisfaction knowing he had moved one step closer to commercial certification.

I let out a sigh as well but for a different reason. It seemed to me that Eddie’s performance met the Airman Certification Standards (FAA-ACS-7B), but I didn’t think it followed the spirit of the maneuver. The final approach segment was shallow, and Eddie approached with too much energy, so the touchdown was flat and fast, and the ground roll ate up much of the mile-long runway. Using that technique upon engine failure over less-than-favorable terrain, I fear, wouldn’t end well.

The Airplane Flying Handbook (FAA-H-8083-3C) states for the power-off one-eighty that, “The objective is to instill in the pilot the judgment and procedures necessary for accurately flying the airplane, without power, to a safe landing.” The task is listed in the Takeoffs, Landings and Go-Arounds task and not in the emergency section, so some argue that it’s a precision maneuver and not one for emergencies. The same folks often believe that a go-around is appropriate if coming up short seems inevitable on final. But the FAA offers clear guidance to the contrary for practical exams.

While power-off one-eighty prowess can help win a fly-in contest prize, the potential dividends are far greater when used to guide an airplane that has suffered an engine failure to a safe landing. To not consider the power-off 180 as an emergency maneuver is a missed opportunity in my book. And performing the maneuver to commercial standards should be part of every pilot’s routine exercise.

In addition to hitting the desired touchdown spot, getting the spirit of the power-off one-eighty also means landing with minimal energy to dissipate. Therefore, the speed at which touchdown occurs is critical to success. To put this in perspective, if the desired touchdown speed is 50 knots and the pilot does so at 60 knots instead, then the airplane will use about 44 percent more real estate to come to a stop.

Of course, you can’t approach the landing spot with too little energy, as touching down before the spot could mean hitting an obstacle in front of the favorable landing site (or a notice of disapproval on the practical exam). Due to changing winds and atmospheric conditions, no two power-off one-eighties will ever be the same. A successful approach requires thorough knowledge of the aircraft glide characteristics, approaching with excess energy, and being able to get rid of that excess using slips, deploying flaps, and even adjusting propeller pitch in a real emergency.

There are many other practical exam tasks where knowledge and performance seem to miss the mark. The chandelle is a climbing 180-degree turn that starts at the aircraft’s maneuvering speed and ends close to its stall speed. Many candidates share that it’s a good trick to keep around if a pilot finds himself flying around high terrain and the only way out involves hanging a U-turn in tight quarters.

This widespread belief is horribly wrong as the chandelle’s turn radius is typically several times greater than necessary. In a true canyon turn, as mountain flyers call it, the pilot slows the airplane (possibly extending flaps to lower the stall speed) and makes the steepest turn while maintaining controlled flight. The FAA’s description of the chandelle, “a maximum performance, 180-degree climbing turn” isn’t quite correct as the properly flown chandelle does not maximize the climb nor does it minimize the turn radius. So, the term “maximum performance” seems misapplied. (See “It’s Complicated,” September 2020 AOPA Pilot.)

I like to think of a chandelle as a maneuver in which a pilot shows she can authoritatively maneuver the aircraft with changing bank, pitch, and airspeed while making the experience smooth for passengers. Flying with authority and grace can happen simultaneously and is much of what I try to convey as an aerobatic instructor.

But the biggest problem I see with the chandelle (or any of the ground reference or performance maneuvers) is the simplest of all—just making sure we don’t hit anything. Candidates become so fixated on flying a perfect maneuver that they lose situational awareness with respect to terrain and other traffic. I often share in my debrief that I prefer a less-than-perfect chandelle if that’s what it takes to continually scan the area for traffic. After all, we must survive the flight for me to write up that temporary certificate.

The next time you practice a maneuver to increase your skills or work toward that new certificate or rating, ask yourself these questions: Why does the FAA think it’s important enough to include on a practical exam? What tool does it offer an emergency or anomalous situation? And don’t be surprised if your answers don’t necessarily align with the airplane flight manual or ACS. Really digging in and understanding the spirit of the requirement can be the key to making the most of the tools that these maneuvers provide.