The Diary of a Pilot

I’ll start this entry with an apology, since it is written from the comfort of my own home nearly 4 months after the trip. We didn’t crash and burn (or splash and sink) on the way to Reykjavik as some had feared, rather, Reykjavik’s internet access was down and a swap of ISPs and a busy spell doing the Day Job further slowed down this post’s progress onto the world-wide-web.

So with that admission out of the way, I am going to cop-out, and refer you to the excellent Blog written by my Mike, the aircraft’s owner and my partner in crime for the flight.

http://n36665.blogspot.com/

Fear not though, I am back blogging.

No photos today. But the excuse is a good one. We landed last night at Goose Bay in Canada. Goose could perhaps be best described as a township hanging on to the very edge of civilisation for dear life. Whilst the hotel (singular) advertises high speed internet access, this is a definition of high speed that belongs firmly in the mid 1990s.

Wednesday morning in White Plains started in extremely unpromising fashion. I could tell this as I looked out of the window at Mike’s parents’ house and was unable to see the bottom of the garden for the dense fog. A quick look online revealed that our fears as we saw the vis drop last night had come true. All of the North Eastern Seaboard of the US and Canada was blanketed in dense fog with visibility in places down to a couple of hundred metres. By the time we were loading up the aircraft at 10:30, the situation had improved somewhat and most places had become flyable, albeit IFR.

We had originally thought in terms of splitting the journey up to Goose in Yarmouth on the South East tip of Canada. This would have meant a short overwater leg, but would also have made for a more picturesque journey than travelling up the centre of Maine - a state which just seems to go on and on and on in one long featureless brown continuum. But, with coastal areas being the last to clear, this didn’t make much sense, so we elected instead to retrace my steps of March, and head up in one hop to Sept Iles, Quebec, and then on the brief hop to Goose itself.

Flightplan filed, we jumped into the aircraft, started up and called for taxi, at which point we hit the first of two delays. White Plains clearance claimed never to have heard of Sept Iles and its designator CYZV. “Where is it near?”, we were asked. Now in all honesty, Sept Iles is “near” nowhere, so this question had us stumped. We shut down and waited for them to sort themselves out, which in due course they did. Having filed GPS Direct, we were handed the mother of all clearances - a million and one waypoints connected by some of the most jagged indirect airways you could ever hope not to meet. Late lunch in Sept Iles was already looking like afternoon tea. We read the clearance back and taxied, and this is where we hit delay number 2. Just as you occasionally see at airports like JFK, stretched out in front of us waiting to go was an enormous line of other aircraft. Gulfstreams, Learjets, Galaxies. Aviation is a great leveller. There are always plenty of people in nicer, bigger, shinier aircraft than you. On this occasion, they were all in front of us too. It took the better part of 35 minutes before it became our turn to go, but once we did get airborne, we were at least rewarded with an early turn direct to Bangor and a climb to 9000 feet.

There is a powerful high pressure system sitting off the South Eastern edge of the US at the moment, so once on our way, the somewhat indifferent winds that we had seen coming into White Plains were replaced by a very welcome and strengthening tailwind. Even leaned back quite aggressively, the Bonanza was scooting along at a pleasing 180 knots in clear air above the thinning cloud and mist layer.

But into every life, a little rain must fall, and in our case it started to fall from a stalled warm front sitting over Southern Canada. The price we paid for avoiding the fog was flying into the increasing drizzle, cloud and poor visibility as we closed in on Sept Iles. So after 3.5 hours or so of flying, Mike guided us down the RNAV approach onto Runway 09 at Sept Iles, leaving our 9000 foot cruising level and winds (now swung around to come from the west) for the murk below. But this was not just any murk. At 9000 feet the winds had been around 270 at 15. On the ground, they were reporting 070 at 10. The better part of a 180 degree sheer. And, as if to emphasise the point, whereas we had been cruising in 10 Celcius air, as we descended, it got a lot colder. This was a classic temperature inversion.

Freezing cold and rain aren’t a great combination, but fortunately, the Total Air Temperature remained positive and after a pleasant flight we arrived in a drizzly Sept Iles an hour or so later than originally planned, and very much aware that we were no longer in Oklahoma.

Having called CANPASS (the Canadian Customs Service) ahead of our departure, customs formalities were as simple as calling a toll-free number, announcing our arrival, and receiving a clearance number. When Mike had called them earlier to provide our flight details, we learnt that I am “known” to them. No further details were necessary as soon as my Name and date of birth had been passed. Perhaps I should strike Canada off my holiday plans for the future.

Once inside the terminal, I filed flightplans for Goose Bay and contacted the handling agent to let them know that we would be late, whilst Mike arranged the fueling. These kind of flights work much better with two people spreading the workload. Then, mission accomplished, we set about trying to get back airside. This proved harder than you might imagine. It took 30 frustrating minutes to find the one security person who actually cared about GA. All the rest of them were occupied solely in herding a few disinterested locals onto flights to exotic places like Wabush. They really didn’t want to help us!

It was drizzling harder than ever as we headed back out across the tarmac to the aircraft. The Weather man had warned us about the inversion once again, but had told us about the ever-increasing tailwinds that we should be seeing on the way up North. This looks particularly good for the Greenland legs later today.

After a much quicker departure, we rapidly climbed up into the murk, finally coming out between layers as we reached 9000. After a few minutes hovering around 0 degrees, the temperature had indeed started to rise again as the tailwinds picked up. After little more than an hour and a half, we made our gentle approach down the ILS into Goose, breaking into clear air at around 3500. Woodwards, the handling agent were their ever-efficient selves and after being offered a “free ice-cream”, we were bussed the short distance to the hotel for a meal and bed.

And now as I write, we are a couple of hours away from our departure for Greenland and Reykjavik beyond. Martin Courage never did make it into Goose last night. I am guessing that the tailwinds that will help us today slowed him down horribly.

The weather for Narsarsuaq is out already and it doesn’t look too bad at all:

METAR BGBW 060750Z 20012KT 170V230 9999 BKN100 01/M06 Q0990 RMK 6AC =

TAF BGBW 060800Z 060918 22010KT 9999 BKN100 TEMPO 0912 25018KT BKN060 TEMPO 1218 29022KT BECMG 1315 SCT100=

If things go according to plan, the next posting will be from Reykjavik, where we should be meeting up with Mike’s partner in Crime, Peter, keen to join us for the last leg back to England.

A long but successful day yesterday. The night passes in a tradition well known to transatlantic travellers - waking up at 3AM, 3:30AM, 4AM and 4:30AM. At which point you decide to cut your losses and get out of bed. This turns out to be a mistake because the minute you connect to the Internet, you are fair game for work colleagues to start talking to you. The end result is that by breakfast at 7, you feel as though you’ve put in a full day’s work.

Mike has moved the aircraft from its original home to nearby Wiley Post airport. Here it has been having the various avionics mods performed as well as the usual documentation signed up. The La Quinta shuttle bus runs us down to the airport and we await an update on the aircraft. The news is mixed. 10 minutes spent upside down in the cockpit tells a lady avionics engineer all she needs to know about our failed number 2 VOR indicator. A soldering problem. That is quickly fixed. The paperwork is sadly lacking though. Our Weight and Balance schedule still has the wrong MAUW on it, a logbook entry for the avionics work has the wrong N-number on it, and there is no sign of the FAA GPS logbook supplement. All trivial enough you would think and Mike puts a flight plan in for a 10AM departure. This was clearly a mistake. It is a well known fact that when you plan to depart at a particular time, things will conspire to prevent you from leaving.

For various reasons, we are still sat on the ground at Wiley Post as lunchtime comes and goes. We have two 4 hour flights to complete if we are going to get to Mike’s parents’ house in White Plains’ New York. A distance of around 1000 miles. What should have been a tea-time arrival starts to look like early evening…. and then late evening. We are finally buttoned up ready to go by around 2PM. Mike’s parents aren’t going to be seeing us until around 11PM, thanks to the 1 hour time difference between Oklahoma and New York.

Mike flies the first leg to Columbus Indiana. We are filed at 9000 feet GPS direct, and believe it or not, that is pretty much the clearance we get, passing close to Tulsa and many other names that are familiar. It is one of the joys of cross-country flying in the US that places that were simply names start to take on a sense of position as you fly past them.

Burning a little over 16 GPH lean of peak, the aircraft is putting out around 175 knots in the cruise and the countryside shoots by. With the autopilot doing a great job of straight and level, we rapidly run out of aeronautical things to do, and resort to taking photos of one another

Finally, after 3:45 of flight, we are descended for a visual approach onto 14 at Columbus Muni, landing just as the sun was starting to set.

We quickly refuel, make a vital toilet stop and update Mike’s parents. It’s going to be 11 o clock by the time we land. A vital decision has to be made. Will they still feel like feeding us, or should we raid the M and Ms machine at the airport? It turns out that Mike’s parents are both tolerant, and nightbirds. We will be met, and a meal awaits, despite the lateness of the hour.

The aircraft is new, the day has been long, and this flight will be conducted at night. Mike kindly offers me a turn and so we swap roles for this flight. Another IFR sector at 9000 feet in a 500 mile straight line. More evocative names pass along our route. Pittsburgh, Cleveland. Mike and I swap memories of restaurants and other trivia from our visits to the various Cities that we now see just as massive balls of light below us.

As the air cools down, a bubbly cloud layer gives way to a light mist. When we finally get close to New York, the White Plains ATIS gives 4 miles vis in mist, but in all other respects a lovely evening. After the inevitable vectoring for NY Terminal Traffic, w finally land off a totally unnecessary ILS onto runway 16. It is 11:05PM. Mike’s parents are faithfully waiting for us and within 15 minutes we are eating a very welcome steak.

I check my e-mails and discover that old friend Martin Courage, a commercial ferry pilot is planning to be in Goose bay tomorrow with a Beech Baron. We plan to meet up (so far as you can plan these things).

Today, the journey starts to get just that little bit harder.

Well, the fact that I am writing this Blog entry sat in room 313 of La Quinta Inn and Suites, Oklahoma City, tells you that so far, things are going pretty much according to plan.

I don’t travel much by commercial airlines, so the experience of stacking my 6′4″ frame into a coach-class seat at the back of an American Airlines 777 was rather a rude awakening. Once I was over the initial shock and discomfort though, things weren’t too bad. In preference to “enjoying” the rather unique humour that is “the Letterman Show”, I pulled out an L39 manual to read, and selected the “Skymap” on my seatback television. The Finnish couple sitting next to me evidently found Letterman similarly uninspiring and they too went for the Skymap option.

Things got off to a boring start. We were through a solid cloud layer by 6000 feet so there was nothing at all to see. We followed a BPK departure before heading off to to Liverpool and out across the Sea to Northern Island. The only bright point in an otherwise dull flight was that being an ETOPS aircraft, the 777 was compelled to take a Northerly track across the Atlantic. This brought it within 100 miles or so of Reykjavik and almost right over the top of Narsarsuaq and Goose Bay. The cloud over the Atlantic was well broken and both Narsarsuaq and Goose were clearly visible from my vantage point next to the toilet cubicle. If we are lucky enough to get weather like this later in the week, the run will be fantastic with views to rival my last visit in March.

A change of terminal and a 2 hour wait at Chicago’s O’Hare airport, and I am now on a Canadair RJ heading down to Oklahoma City. These are really just grown-up bizjets and you really do get the impression of sitting in a tiny aluminium tube full of fuel. I spend an hour and a half squashed next to a sleeping Texan whose snores make me feel for my wife, who constantly accuses me (falsely of course) of keeping her awake at night with my own sound and light show. Behind me are two young girls, one of whom spends most of the flight in tears whilst being comforted by her girlfriend. “Don’t you think about him Charleeeeene. He is just a Dork and he doesn’t deserve you”. “But I love him” says Charleeeeene in between sobs. “Sometimes”, says Charleeeene’s friend, “God makes us love Dorks. It is sorta like a kind of challenge to your faith”. “That is so deep” says Charleeene.

I eye my sickbag with greater than my usual interest. Normally, I steal these to put in my own aircraft. On this occasion, I fear that I will be needing it myself.

Mercifully, I am spared further details of Dork and Charleeeene by our arrival into Oklahoma City. A $25 cab ride gets me to La Quinta Inn and Suites where Mike and free wireless broadband access are waiting. I shower and we head out for food. It is midnight UK time, but I am feeling fine.

Mike has been test-flying the aircraft today. Things are basically looking good. The standby generator is u/s, and the second VOR receiver has developed a fault. We will carry the generator fault with us, it is not a problem for the run. The avionics people are apparently happy that they know what lies behind the VOR problem and will fix it first thing tomorrow. This will just give them time to go and get the IFR approval paperwork for the newly-installed GNS530 GPS system. One of the benefits of being in Oklahoma City is that there is never far to go to get to a Fed.

All this is likely to delay our departure though. The plans remain to fly all the way to White Plains, Long Island tomorrow. This will entail a couple of 4+ hour legs and of course, we lose an hour as a result of leaving Central Time and entering the Eastern time zone. Being pessimistic, we are unlikely to leave Oklahoma before midday, putting us into White Plains around 10PM.

If things go according to plan, we’ll stay overnight with Mike’s parents, before continuing on up to Goose Bay on Wednesday.

The weather for the journey looks good. Let’s hope that the Avionics Guys do their stuff.

I’ve been holding back on you, and now it is time to come clean.

A few months ago, I was contacted by an Internet acquaintance called “Mike”. Mike and I had never met for real, although we had swapped the odd flying-related e-mail from time to time. Mike, a US Citizen, but resident in the UK had after some time in a group, finally decided to splash out and buy a new and exciting touring aircraft. His choice, a rather well equipped Beech Bonanza. The challenge that Mike faced was that his new acquisition lay thousands of miles away on a small airfield just outside Oklahoma City. How to get it back to Fairoaks, his home base?

I think that Mike may well initially have had aspirations towards flying across the Atlantic himself. Despite being an experienced and appropriately rated pilot, the insurers would have none of it. A few total losses from some singularly ill-equipped pilots in recent years have ruined that run for many who would be entirely suitable. So, after initially having contacted me looking for hints and tips following my return run in N33NW, Mike came back to me more recently following up on my rather glib offer to sit in the right hand seat for him.

I think it would be fair to say that it took less than a nanosecond to clear the diary and say yes. So here I am, heading across to Oklahoma City this coming Monday, yes, 2 days time, to ferry a Bonanza back across the Atlantic with my new-found friend Mike.

You can follow our progress on this website. Hopefully, the run will be as picturesque and the weather as friendly as it was last time.

The plan roughly, is this:

Starting Sunday 2nd October

SUNDAY

Mike flies out to Oklahoma City from London.

MONDAY

Mike spends time becoming familiar with the Bonanza “N36665″
Nigel flies out to Oklahoma City from London

TUESDAY

Oklahoma City to White Plains, New York (stopping off one or two times enroute)

WEDNESDAY

White Plains to Goose Bay

THURSDAY

Goose Bay to Reykjavik via Narsarsuaq

FRIDAY

Reykjavik to Fairoaks, stopping off at Oban and dropping me off at Cranfield on the way.

To say that I am looking forward to doing this again so unexpectedly soon would be an understatement.

Watch this space.

Sorry for the silence over the last few weeks. But it was all in a good cause! No sooner than I had written the last piece and talked about selling N33NW when a good friend of mine called to say that he would be interested in buying her. This took me by surprise. I had mentally thought in terms of a 6 month delay or more whenever you try to sell an aircraft. My experience has always been that when you try to sell an aircraft costing £40K or less, things move quickly - assuming the aircraft is half-decent. When, like me, you are trying to sell and aircraft for more than £100K, you count on a delay.

“P”, the friend concerned is in every way, my ideal buyer. He is an existing TB20 owner, Instrument Rated, and full of the joys of touring. I believe he intends to take N33NW down to South Africa at some point in the near future - continuing the aircraft’s touring heritage. I couldn’t be happier that the aircraft is going to him.

The transaction was completed last week, and with rather mixed feelings, I flew her to her new home in the West of England. The end of a short but sweet era for me, the continuation, I hope of some really fun flying for N33NW and her new owner.

My efforts to get myself another aircraft were rather slower. I am completely ignorant when it comes to cloth-covered taildraggers and there are few things worse when looking for an aircraft than not knowing exactly what you want. So, like the Princess in the Fairy Tale, I will probably end up kissing a few frogs, before I find my ideal aircraft. One frog I’ve already encountered is a Luscombe 8E. Nice enough on the outside, dirt cheap, but found to be horrible once the engineers at IAE got to have a good look around inside. If I’m honest the Luscombe experience has deterred me somewhat. This is a brave new world for me and I’m not accustomed in aviation to feeling somewhat out on a limb.

The military jet flying has been rather easier to fix - probably because despite the many years that have passed since I did it very regularly, it doesn’t feel quite so alien. As a starting point, I’ve bought into a syndicate “Where Eagles Share“, based at North Weald. This is co-run by a business colleague of mine, making the introduction particularly easy. The syndicate operates two Jet Provosts, a Mark 3 and a Mark 5. That will allow me very quickly and cheaply to get back into my stride. In the meantime, a small subset of us are on the lookout for our ultimate goal, an L39. More in due course I hope.

And that is how over the course of little more than 4 weeks, I went from owning a TB20, to owning a Jet.

It has become clear that taking 6 weeks out to go around the world next year is not a realistic possibility. This feeling has gradually dawned on me as work in one form or another stretches out happily into March and April, my ideal departure times.

This leaves me with an interesting problem. I bought the TB20 with two missions in mind. One was the transatlantic trip; that box has been comprehensively ticked. The other, was a round the world trip. That box now seems unlikely to be ticked for a couple of years at least.

In the meantime, I am the proud owner of a very capable IFR touring aircraft. Unfortunately, IFR touring is an area of flying which I feel I have “done” fairly comprehensively. So do I hang on to the TB20 and do more “IFR touring”, whilst I wait for a window of opportunity to open up on the “round-the-world” front, or do I sell it and aim at a different kind of flying? After some considerable soul-searching, I have come to the conclusion that selling N33NW is the right answer.

So what will be the replacement?

I can divide my private flying life up into a number of periods of time, each of which have been characterised by slightly different styles of flying. Early on, I owned an Arrow and a TB10 and did a lot of VFR touring. I’ve owned a Baron and a TB21 and done a lot of low level but fast IFR touring. I’ve owned a C421 and done high-speed touring in the pressurised weather-free comfort of the upper airways. Along the way, I’ve also picked up some time in Citation business jets, turboprops like the King Air 200 and some ex-military types. Many different types, but with one underlying trend - touring around Europe and elsewhere where the flying was essentially a means of transport.

With two growing children and the desire on all our parts to holiday in different more far-flung destinations less well served by travelling in GA aircraft, that emphasis on touring is going to change. Instead, after a lot of thought, I have decided to take my flying for the next year or two into two entirely different areas.

Military Jets

Along the way, I’ve managed to pick up a fair amount of time on jets. However, in my private flying, I’ve never had a concentrated period of time spent flying ex-military types. I think that the time has come to fix that gap. The particular object of my affections is the L39 Albatros jet.

As luck would have it, the opportunity has come about to buy into a syndicate which is acquiring an L39 in addition to a couple of Jet Provost trainers which it already owns. This promises to be quite an adventure of which more on another occasion.

A Career Stripping

The second gap in my flying experience is what is loosely termed “strip flying”. Flying small, typically taildragger aircraft from short grass fields. This is all VFR, typically at speeds of 80 knots or (much) less. The types capable of “stripping” are many and varied, but range from the Venerable Piper Cub, through to the enormous variety of self-built types available under the umbrella of the PFA (Popular Flying Association). I have neither the capability nor the desire to build my own aircraft, but I am open to flying almost anything within that class. The current favourite would be a 150HP SuperCub. Two seats, easy to fly, cheap to maintain and a lot of fun.

So, N33NW is now up for sale, offers in the region of 105,000 Sterling. For the first time in a while, I am very excited about what the next couple of years’ flying will bring.

Well, after some apparent consideration and more than a little bullying from my side, the AAIB finally wrote me an e-mail responding to my Open Letter (see previous postings). I’ll reproduce it in full, before commenting.

Thank you for your e-mail regarding the content of the AAIB reports.

The UK complies with the Standards and Recommended Practices laid down in ICAO Annex 13 and the European Council Directive 94/56/EC. Through UK legislation, accident and incident investigations are conducted or supervised by the Air Accidents Investigation Branch (AAIB), independent of the national aviation authority or any other party, to establish the cause but not to attribute blame or liability. The Chief Inspector of Air Accidents reports directly to the Secretary of State for Transport on safety matters and he has unrestricted authority over the conduct of any investigation.

The AAIB’s investigations and subsequent publications are intended to inform the wider aviation industry and when appropriate recommendations are made to support and promote a safer aviation environment. Investigations primarily concentrate on determining the main causal factors in any accident or serious incident but from time to time ‘matters arising’ are examined and reported on if, in the AAIB’s independent opinion, they warrant comment. Consequently, the contents of an AAIB Bulletin or Report will be sufficient to describe and analyse the event to inform the reader or may include supplementary information to highlight a particular aspect or develop the analysis to support a Safety recommendation.

I take note of your concerns but stress that the AAIB defends its independence and does not intentionally focus on any one particular aspect of an investigation for anything other than flight safety related reasons.

Regards.

David King
Chief Inspector of Air Accidents

Well on the one hand, I am delighted that the concern has been responded to by none other than the Chief Inspector of Air Accidents. On the other hand, I am struggling to see how my questions have been answered. Specifically:

Why is it that irrelevant licensing issues are highlighted in accidents involving N-registered aircraft or FAA-certificated pilots, when actually cases of flying beyond licence privileges appear uncommented upon where no FAA angle exists.

Why does the AAIB feel the need to pontificate without resolution on FAA/CAA Flight training practices (specifically) the Crash of the Cessna 310 when such factors have no bearing on the accident.

In the interim, yet another example of AAIB Bias has presented itself. This time, the bias relates to a fatal accident involving yet another Cessna 310 N6834L. You can read about it here.

In summary, the pilot held a JAA PPL with SEP and MEP class ratings, both of which had expired. However, he also held a similarly endorsed FAA PPL, based on his JAA PPL (a so called FAR Part 61.75 Certificate), with SEL and MEL endorsements. His BFR was current, and the pilot was undergoing regular periods of instruction in Florida.

In its report, the AAIB alleges that the expiry of the pilot’s SEP and MEP class ratings rendered the equivalent FAA MEL and SEL privileges invalid. This calls into question the legality of the accident flight - a serious slur against the now deceased pilot.

The FAA, who actually issued the PPL in question dispute this point in its standard FAQ document covering the case in point.

QUESTION: Finally, it is my understanding that the fact that the foreign pilot license bears a lapsed proficiency check does not mean the FAA considers the foreign pilot license has been is limited or restricted under § 61.75(e)(3)? It is my understanding that the phrase “limitations and restrictions” under § 61.75(e)(3) refers only to pilot-specific restrictions such as prohibitions from night flying. Is this correct?

Section 61.75(e)(3) states, “Is subject to the limitations and restrictions on the person’s U.S. certificate and foreign pilot license when exercising the privileges of that U.S. pilot certificate in an aircraft of U.S. registry operating within or outside the United States.” The FAA intends this rule to apply when a person’s foreign pilot license has an operating restriction, limitation, or privilege. Examples of operating restrictions or limitations on a pilot certificate/license include a night flying limitation, aircraft rating limitation, instrument rating, operating privilege, etc.

I think it may be time for another note to the AAIB.

A brief note to let regular readers know that I am still alive, well, and flying. The pause in writing has been brought about by a combination of the holiday season, real work and to some extent writers’ block. However, I am now back in business and over the next few days, you should see a few more updates!

Thanks for keeping the faith, and for all the many e-mails asking if all was well!

Nigel

You may remember that three weeks or so ago, I wrote an open letter to the AAIB. In it, I essentially suggested that the AAIB were applying different criteria to accidents with an FAA overtone to them, when compared with similar accidents involving purely CAA-regulated aircraft and pilots. In particular, I drew the unfavourable comparison between one incident in which (to judge by the AAIB’s pubished facts) no comment is made in relation to a pilot operating outside the UK on the basis of a National PPL, whereas in another case, specific reference is drawn to an irrelevant but invalid FAA licence held by the pilot concerned.

As of today, I’ve had no response at all - neither a reply, nor even an acknowledgement. Interestingly, in a genuinely unplanned move, Ian Seager, editor of FLYER magazine had made a similar request for clarity, in response to the same AAIB Bulletin. He had made his request via the DfT Press Office. As with me though, no answer has yet to come back.

Today, I gave the AAIB a call to find out what the story is. The answer - the Inspectors concerned have had your letter passed to them, and they will be chased for a response.

Let’s see what happens now.