VINTAGE INSTRUCTOR
THE
BY DOUG STEWART
“. . .shall become familiar with all available information…” The first day after my arrival home from EAA AirVenture Oshkosh ’07, with virtually no time to savor all the wonderful experiences of that annual pilgrimage, I found myself in my office, catching up on phone messages and mail as I awaited the arrival of two clients in their Cardinal, who were to begin their training for the commercial certificate. I had my handheld transceiver turned on to monitor the UNICOM frequency and thus give me a heads-up on their imminent arrival. Prior to tuning to the UNICOM frequency I had listened to the automated weather observation system (AWOS), not only to see if my weather observations matched those of the robot stationed at the north end of the field, but also to see if any of the pre-recorded announcements had changed. Indeed, nothing had changed there. The usual announcement of Runway 21 being the preferred calm-wind runway remained the same. As well, the notice to airmen (NOTAM) regarding the UNICOM frequency change that had become effective back in the beginning of March was still being broadcast. When I heard my client announce entering the 45 degree for the downwind to Runway 21, I headed out to the ramp. Sure enough, the windsock was hanging quite limply, so my client had made the proper choice of runway. But as I continued my survey of the field, I noticed a Super Cub turning base to final for Runway 03. Most Super Cubs have radios, but I didn’t hear this pilot announce any of his intentions. Perhaps this was one of those tailwheel pilots who doesn’t like to use the radio unless he has to. Or perhaps it was a NORDO (no radio) Super Cub. Whatever the case, the pilot certainly seemed to know how to fly his airplane as he executed a beautiful short-field landing, touching down on his large tundra tires in a perfect three-point landing. As the Cub taxied up to the self-serve fuel pump I strolled in that direction. (By now, my inbound client was on a mid-field downwind for Runway 21.) As I approached the Cub, it looked very familiar, and I
30 OCTOBER 2007
realized that the pilot of this PA-18 had been a former client of mine. Indeed he had been one heck of a challenge for me, as an instructor. His stick and rudder skills were wonderful, so that had not been the challenge. What had been a Sisyphean chore for me was trying to help this pilot in overcoming his hazardous attitudes. At the forefront of these was his anti-authority attitude. Prior to coming to me as a student pilot, he had been flying all over the place, without any current endorsements, and furthermore, carrying passengers. It was difficult getting through to him that his actions would be frowned upon by the FAA. He feigned having difficulty understanding why he couldn’t fly his Cub, minus a transponder, over Class C airspace. I could continue the list but would run out of space before I finished. The pilot, who shall remain anonymous, climbed out of the Cub with an excited, “Hey, Doug. Check out the mods I’ve done to my Cub!” He was eager to show me not only a new 200-hp Lycoming engine, but also all the improvements to his panel. It was no longer a NORDO Cub, what with some of the latest and greatest in small, space-saving avionics now installed in his airplane. Not only a transceiver and transponder graced the panel, but a panel-mounted Garmin 496 was there, as well. As I walked up to get a closer look my clients were now touching down on Runway 21. The pilot of the Cub said to me: “Can you believe those folks in that airplane that just landed. They not only didn’t announce a single word on the UNICOM, but they landed on the wrong runway as well. Someone should say something to them before they hurt somebody!” “Sam,” (I won’t use his real name here) “what frequency were you on?” I asked. “122.8,” he replied. “Uh . . . did you listen to the AWOS before you got here?” I now asked. “No, I just came overhead and looked at the sock . . . you know those AWOS things . . . can’t ever trust ’em,” he responded. “And what was the sock doing when you looked at it?” was my next question. “Hanging limp,” he said.