By Mike Ginter
The weather was perfect as we departed Naval Air Station Key West in a flight of four North American T–2C Buckeye jet trainers. The flight instructor in the lead aircraft led the rest of us on a westerly heading, 60 miles west of the Keys, toward our destination—the USS Lexington (AVT-16), a World War II-era aircraft carrier the U.S. Navy used exclusively for carrier qualifying student naval aviators.
Having successfully completed about 70 hours of basic training in the Beechcraft T–34C Turbo Mentor and the entire intermediate jet training syllabus—another 70 hours—in the T–2 Buckeye, I felt fairly comfortable in the cockpit. The 60-mile flight took about 15 minutes at 250 knots, and my anxiety was starting to build. I didn’t have anyone to share this feeling with because each of us was flying solo; no instructor in his or her right mind would ever ride along on a student’s first carrier landing!
And then it came into view, and holy cow, did that ship look small. The instructor put the three students into right echelon and led us into a left break as we passed the bow of the ship—his job was to deliver us on downwind at the correct abeam distance and then enter a holding pattern over the ship to observe and be ready to assist. I’m sure I completed the landing checklist before I got to the abeam position and began my 180-degree descending turn to final, but I don’t remember that. What I do remember is how completely overwhelmed and stressed I was with the enormity of what was about to happen. Even though I had completed 12 field carrier landing practice training flights (totaling 75 touch-and-go landings to a simulated carrier box) at the naval air station, I had never seen or been aboard an aircraft carrier before this moment. Fifteen seconds after rolling wings level on final my little orange and white trainer jet slammed into the deck; I went to full throttle and was airborne again almost instantly. The first of two hook-up touch and goes was complete. I ultimately completed four traps to successfully carrier qualify that day, but I have never forgotten how completely consumed I was with stress and anxiety during that flight. I am confident that had I experienced any system failure or in-flight emergency while in the pattern, I may not have been able to handle it. I was so task-saturated that any system failure would have put me over the edge.
Over the years, I gained more flight time and experience around the carrier, and I became (almost) comfortable with complex night missions and instrument approaches to a pitching deck. The experience I gained increased my performance level at much lower stress levels.
I didn’t know this at the time, but I was experiencing the psychological principle of the Yerkes-Dodson Law, which describes the relationship between stress and performance. In 1908, two scientists discovered that certain levels of stress, such as a deadline or performance pressure, can enhance focus and lead to better performance. They also observed that if stress becomes too great, it diminishes performance below that needed to satisfactorily complete a task. In other words, as stress increases, performance increases to an optimum level, and if the stress continues to increase, performance starts to decrease. On a graph, it is a simple bell curve with optimum performance sitting at the top of the curve.
We all exist somewhere on the stress performance curve when we fly—most of the time we’re somewhere at or below the optimum level of stress and performance. But we have all experienced the heightened stress that comes with a night flight or instrument approach to minimums or perhaps an in-flight emergency. As we fly more frequently in these environments, we naturally settle down a bit and find ourselves back at the optimal level of stress and performance.
We need to be aware of this stress-performance relationship and factor that into our aeronautical decision making. We can accelerate our ability to handle more stressful situations by seeking training and building skill sets to handle more complex tasks. And by learning to be aware of where you are on the stress performance curve, you can make better decisions in the cockpit. We should strive to exist on the stress-performance curve slightly below the optimum level of stress so we can handle the increased stress when an in-flight emergency occurs without going over the top of the curve.
To help build your excess capacity on the stress-performance curve, train deliberately in the areas you wish to improve, and then trust the training. You can also check out the Emergencies section of the GAsafe.org website (National Pause for GA Safety). You’ll find 12 excellent videos and webinars that dive into the intricacies of handling emergency situations.
Stay sharp and stay focused.