THE VINTAGE INSTRUCTOR
Hazardous attitudes DOUG STEWART The night before I was to ferry an Aeronca Champ from Massachusetts to Florida the following day’s surface winds were forecast to be from the northwest at 30 knots, gusting to 40, with the moderate turbulence that always accompanies those high winds. Snow was also in the forecast for later in the day, and would remain in the forecast for the next several days. It was clear that if I didn’t get going early the next morning I would be grounded for the rest of the week. Why is it that whenever you want the briefer to be wrong, he or she isn’t . . . but when you are counting on the forecast to hold true, it doesn’t? Has anyone else ever noticed that? Well, the following morning showed that the former was to be the case. The wind was howling as I backtaxied to the departure end of the runway. It was blowing hard enough that the rudder wasn’t sufficient to keep the air-knocker going straight down the runway. I needed to help out my directional control with a bit of brake as well. In doing so I noticed that the right brake seemed to have even less effectiveness than the meager amount I expected from the original expander-type brake on the Champ. The thought ran through my head that perhaps I should abort the flight. Two-and-a-half hours after takeoff I would be in New Jersey and in need of fuel. (With only 13 gallons of total fuel, the fuel range matched my bladder range per10
MAY 2004
fectly!) Every possible runway that I could use would have a 70- to 90-degree crosswind. “Would I be able to control the old Champ with a weak brake?” I deliberated with myself. However, I was determined to make the flight, and that was affecting my thought process.
The thought ran through my head that perhaps I should abort the flight. It made me think of one time when I had ferried this same airplane in the opposite direction. In similar winds I had landed at Stewart International Airport (SWF), diagonally across the runway. Because of the high, gusty winds I had opted to do a wheel landing. As I slowed down, once on the runway, I slowly came forward with the stick to keep the tail up in the air. I still had some stick left, when, with the tail still up in the air, the airplane came to a stop. “Yikes! What am I going to do now? If I bring the tail down, I’m going flying again.” I said to myself. It then took close to 15 minutes to taxi the short distance from the runway to the FBO. I considered all this information as I performed the simple run-up
and before-takeoff checks. “Yeah, I can handle it!” was my answer to my self-questioning mind. “I’ve flown in this stuff before…in fact, in this very same plane. No problem…I can handle it!” I responded with determination, as I came in with the power and departed on the flight. Here I was, exhibiting the classic hazardous attitude, “macho,” along with some typical operational errors. I sometimes wonder why my middle name isn’t Votan. (The ancient Mayan god of warfare and death.) How often have I started forging that accident chain, before I ever leave the ground? I know I am not alone in this. The accident reports bear witness to the fact that the chain of events leading to an accident quite typically begins prior to takeoff. Well, two-and-a-half hours later found me at Tom’s River, New Jersey. The winds were reported to be from 350, variable 330 at 31 knots, with gusts to 38 knots. I would be landing on Runway 6. If luck were with me, my arrival would coincide with the winds from their most northerly vector, and least velocity. You’d think by now that I would know that Murphy never rests. Sure enough, he wasn’t. As I had done in this airplane before, I opted to land diagonally