I could have titled this “What the hell are flight instructors teaching?”
Or perhaps “Hey FAA, why don’t you focus on really important stuff like improving primary flight training instead of wasting time with pilot’s neck size?”.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Yesterday I dropped my 185 at my mechanics so he could remove the tail and replace the worn out stabilizer bushings, and every other fastener and bushing since everything will be apart anyway.
Needed a ride back home and a young man offered to drop me at my airport which is close to his. He had his young son along. The plane was a 177RG. I usually don’t like flying with pilots I don’t know and in planes I haven’t checked out myself, but it was take this 20 minute flight back or wait a couple of hours and catch a hour and a half car ride. I opted for the flight. I mean what could go wrong?
I watched this young pilot do his preflight, exactly like his instructor taught I’m sure. I wondered if he really knew what he was looking at. He did check the oil level.
Once he was done I grabbed my headset and iPadMini from the 185 and climbed down into the 177 right seat (only bumping my head on the wing a half dozen or so times - damn trikes are sure low to the ground). Avionics were original and horrible. Some boxy intercom thing had been hacked into the wiring and sat on the floor - at least we could communicate with each other, although I couldn’t hear the radios.
I then witnessed the strangest cold start sequence - throttle all the way out, mixture all the way out, run the boost pump for about 5 seconds (did I say mixture and throttle all the way out?), boost pump off and crank the engine. Off course it didn’t start. I asked him about this procedure and he told me the engine flooded easily. I thought WTF it’s a fuel injected engine, it doesn’t flood easy, and it certainly doesn’t flood with the mixture all the way out no matter how long you let the boost pump run! Oh well, not my plane.
He went through the same sequence again with the exact same results. Then the third time he pushed the mixture in with the boost pump running just enough to get the smallest possible fuel flow reading. This time it started.
As we warmed up the young pilot gave me a safety briefing and explained if we ran into weather we would divert to either Austin or Georgetown. There were a few small thunderstorms in the general vicinity but nothing near our line of flight. He then told me he had forgotten his iPad (he did have an ancient Apollo GPS though-older then the one in my 185). I held up my iPadMini with Garmin Pilot loaded, the direct route displayed, along with the weather radar. I could tell he was really concerned about the weather so I reassured him it would not affect our flight.
We taxied to the runway, he put the 177 into the wind for the run-up, then explained he would do a 270 degree spin for a final check for traffic, just like his instructor had taught. He pushed the throttle forward very gradually and wasn’t at full throttle until we’d used up half the runway, something his instructor had no doubt taught him - come up easy on the power. I was watching the air speed the entire time - just in case. After a 3,000 foot run we lifted off. I placed the iPadMini on his glare shield and pointed at the route.
I should mention here that the overall weather was mid MVFR, 2,500 msl (2,000 agl), with localized, scattered thunderstorms, the closest of which was 15 miles away and mostly stationary.
The direction for our route was NW, wind was 15 out of the south so we used runway 18. As we climbed out and cleared what I consider the pattern we continued south. I thought okay, he learned from one of those monster pattern instructors. Finally he turned to get on course.
As we made this gradual turn he engaged me in conversation asking how long I’d been flying. I told him and he volunteered that he’d been flying since he was his sons age, this was a one family plane that had belonged to his Dad (let’s see he looked to be about 30, assuming he got his license when he was 16, he’s been flying for 14 years).
As we pass through 1,500 msl I glance at the iPad and see that he never completed the turn to get us on track, and we are now headed directly at the thunderstorm. I gently point this out and he makes a small correction. We continue to climb and as we do the visibility lessens significantly as we approach the bottom of the cloud deck. We continue off course. I point this out and he makes a correction. Just as we enter the wispy bottom of the cloud deck he levels off. 2,500 msl (2,000 agl). Visibility 2 miles - maybe. This is the minimum altitude his instructor told him to fly, I thought to myself, that’s why we are here. 500 feet lower visibility was 5 miles, 1,000 feet lower 10+.
At least we are finally on track. Oops, no we are not. We are now too far right and just about to penetrate Austin airspace. Before I can get him back on track he tells me he thinks something is wrong with the prop. I glance at the tach and it’s just above the redline. MP is 22. He pulls the prop back VERY SLOWLY (I’m sure his instructor taught him this - small movements) but the rpm doesn’t change. I take off my headset so I can hear the engine better. We pass by Austin while just inside their airspace (without permission). Engine sounds okay I tell myself, but then I’m not used to how this engine should sound.
I glance at the CHT gauge, in the green. I glance at the oil pressure gauge, in the red. I ask him if his oil pressure gauge works. He says yes, glances at it, and says it’s showing low.
Okay here is where I screwed up. I should have immediately taken control of the plane, turned directly to Austin and had him declare an emergency while I set up for a downwind landing and landed the plane. But I didn’t, in part because I was processing what was going on and moving from a passenger to pilot mindset, and in part because this wasn’t my plane and I wasn’t the owner pilot and I didn’t want to intrude. In hindsight I wonder how many crashes with two pilots aboard actually occur for this very reason?
Another minute or two go by as I’m gradually taking over checking the prop myself, checking the throttle myself, checking all the gauges, and directing the pilot to the nearest airport which is now Lakeway, five miles ahead. I tell him to pull the throttle back until the prop is at redline, about the lowest manifold pressure that will maintain altitude.
I make sure we are pointed directly at Lakeway. I give him the radio frequency. I point out the airport to him. I tell him to fly directly to the airport (assuming he knows he needs to get right over the top in case we have an engine failure). As we near the airport he turns away and enters a monster standard pattern (stupid flight instructor!). Okay, I think, we can still make the runway. We are downwind, adjacent to the runway end, now make your base to final I think. Nope, we continue on downwind out over the lake. STUPID FLIGHT INSTRUCTOR!
I tell him to start base to final NOW. I’m now directing the landing, ensuring airspeed, gear down, flaps down. Everything is looking acceptable. On short final, a little hot, okay a lot hot, but we have the runway made. Then he raises the flaps! WTF! We sink within 50 feet of the houses below I call him to add power and I drop full flaps. All I can think is he thought we were getting slow because of drag from the flaps, so he raised them to reduce drag. I say this because he was reluctant to drop the gear before we entered downwind because that would cause too much drag and the plane would sink quickly (I wanted gear down to reduce his workload during the landing).
We land safely and then taxi around a bit looking for the perfect tie down spot, rather then taking the first one we come across. Why not? We are only out of oil. We get out, I tie down, and the bottom of the plane, nose gear, main gear, all are dripping oil on the tarmac. Pull the dipstick and nothing shows. He thanks me for helping him through the situation.
So time for some Monday Morning Quarterbacking (even though it’s Friday).
What I did right was I kept calm, and used a calm voice with the pilot, and encouraged him. I also verified all the steps he took, and kept an eye on airspeed and altitude, and calmly called things out as needed. That kept him from going into a panic.
What I did wrong was although I did watch him preflight the plane, once I boarded I took on the role of passenger (to show respect), not second in command, so it took longer for me to engage then it should have. From now on when I ride with someone I don’t know, or in a plane I’m not familiar with, before I get in the plane I will assume the mental position of pilot-in-command. And when things go bad I’ll take over the controls and deal with the situation if I have any doubt as to the pilot’s capability.
As for our young pilot, he was clearly being as conscientious and thorough as he knew how. But he was obviously parroting everything his flight instructor had taught him, without a real understanding of why he was doing what he was doing, other then his instructor told him to do it a particular way (and obviously not deviate under any circumstances).
I remember my primary training back in 1981, I was also taught enormous patterns and to fly by the numbers. So I’m heaping a bunch of fault on the FAA for not requiring instruction as I know is/was done by some of those on BCP that are/were instructors. And that is, among other things, flying with the ASI covered so the student learns to keep his/her eyes outside the cockpit and feel the airplane, as opposed to flying the numbers and as a result being scared to death to deviate from those numbers. And of course becoming proficient with dead-stick landings, something that was never part of my instruction and quite obviously not for this young pilot either. Safe low altitude flying should also be taught so the pilot doesn’t feel that anything less then pattern altitude constitutes immediate peril. And upset training, and spin training.
So what happened to the oil. Filter gasket blew out even though the filter was tight and safety wired. Happened once before apparently when his Dad flew the plane.
Oh, and for those who aren’t familiar with constant speed props, it redlined (actually went a fair bit past redline) when the engine ran out of oil. Default is for the blades to go best climb in case of a leak - which is a good thing.


