ESSAY - FLIGHTWEST.
32 PAGES 15,205 WORDS
A DOUBTFUL CONCLUSION TO THE FIRST DAY
I flung myself stiffly out of my aircraft, staggered to the tail..
My shirt was soaked with sweat, my heart pounding and my mind spinning. I rested my head against the fuselage and prayed in thanks for a minute of two. How the ??? did I manage to get into this situation .. The last words my instructor had said were .. "All you have to watch out for are .." and "you have the training and experience, now go use it!"
Ed and Elly at Grand Bend Airport. Storm in Background.
INTRODUCTION AND PLANNING
It has always been my ambition to fly across Canada, to visit the Provincial Capital Cities and on, over the Mountains to B.C. It was obvious this would be more enjoyable if I had the company of another pilot. I belong to a small club which owns a Cessna 172. This plane will take three small adults and a minimum of luggage. "She" is very pretty, beautifully kept and named CF-DYY, affectionately known as "Lady DYY".
"Lady DYY" 'n me in winter.
At the Annual Meeting of the Flying Club I announced my ambition. A few days later another of the Members, Ed, and his wife Eleanor (Elly), said they would be flying to Edmonton beginning, appropriately as it happened, on Canada Day.
Ed and Elly invited me to their home for supper. We spent hours poring over the aviation maps. We carefully weighed our baggage and calculated the weight and balance of DYY. Ed expressed horror over the weight of my various cameras / telephone / radio / battery charging equipment etc. However, for me this was a once in a lifetime trip and I did not want to waste a bit of it !
THE FIRST DAY - 2nd JULY 1992
We were not able to get away on Canada Day. The weather was forecast to be bad. Also, Elly and I still had a lot of chores to catch up on.
The next day: "A front will be advancing across the area" .. well a front-was-always-advancing-across-the-area .. so Ed and I decided to go meet the blessed thing and at least speed up the process!
When we telephoned Flight Service they forecast severe weather to the North, so all our planning and the charts I had bought would be useless. We decided to go around the lakes to the South and head for Gary Indiana.
We loaded DYY and took off on runway 14. (Runways are named for their compass direction, with the last zero omitted. 14 actually faces 140º). It is often said that "nothing good ever comes out of 25" .. The wind quickly changed direction and began coming out of 250º as soon as we turned for Gary. DYY's ground-speed averages 102 mph. On this day it was reduced to 85.
After about 15 minutes I called the London Flight Service Station (FSS) and asked for a weather update. I was concerned about the increasing haze and our steadily reducing groundspeed. I felt something nasty was stalking us. FSS gave much the same information we had received by 'phone.
The flight was deceptively smooth. The air warm, hazy .. typical summer afternoon. We crossed the border and landed at St. Claire County Airport, Port Huron, passed through Customs and borrowed a car to go to lunch.
What a beautiful day. The restaurant was on piers at the edge of the lake and were served outside with delicious soups, salads and fresh crunchy rolls with plenty of home-cooked ham. The waitresses had pleasant U.S. drawling accents and their quick friendly manners reminded me how quickly one can travel to a completely different area with DYY. What a beautiful day .. lovely car .. delicious lunch .. super flight .. I was really getting carried away!
As I drew through the parking lot Elly suddenly leapt out of her seat with a piercing shriek. .. What !!! I looked to my right and saw another car had reversed from his parking spot and missed me by about half an inch. I re-gathered my shattered nerves.
It was my turn at the controls. Although I have been checked out in the right hand seat, I feel more at ease and have more experience in the left. Ones' hands tend to move instinctively after a few years .. Throttle exactly 18" to the right .. Flaps a few more inches to the right and down a touch. .. One does not have to think about it. Move to the other seat and everything gets changed. However .. Ed does not fly from the right and could not take over in an emergency and Ed has at least 1500 hours - while I only have 350. I thought about these things as I drove back to the airport and considered the implications of the advancing front.
We stopped long enough to buy all the extra maps and supplement books for the U.S.A. portion of our flight.
"Claire Co. traffic Delta Yankee Yankee departing on 23, straight out" . I love saying that. I have literally dreamed for years of the thunderous acceleration, trembling power in my hands, lift-off and turn on course.
Looking down over the beautiful patchwork countryside I always marvel at this wondrous privilege. At such a time, if I were not so busy, running my eyes over the dials, checking counting and sensing, I would be singing the "Hallelujah Chorus". Over the millennia since man could look up and envy the birds, countless kings would have killed for this .. "FLY THE PLANE". In my imagination roared the voice of my instructor from three years ago. "THE PILOT IN COMMAND SEAT IS NO PLACE FOR PHILOSOPHY!"
Continued the voice from years ago: "When we find ourselves with nothing to do, it usually means we have forgotten to do something .. just think what it is!" I checked the engine temperatures, radio frequencies, heading indicators and reluctantly tried to think positively about the weather. "How fast did FSS say that front was travelling, Ed?" "They didn't say. Storms usually travel about 30 - 40 mph. We have 85 mph groundspeed. We will make it easily before the front. I will call FSS again, if you like."
The FSS voice came in with some urgency: "Severe thunder storms. Threat of tornadoes. Winds gusting from 60 to 70 kts. Gary has been closed!" "We receive you loud and clear." Replied Ed. "DYY will divert immediately to South Bend. Please amend our flight plan accordingly." "We will make it to South Bend with at least twenty-five miles to spare;" Ed remarked to me.
As I neared South Bend I could not see the Airport and the golden afternoon began to take on an unpleasant grey tinge. I spoke to the Tower about fifteen miles out: "South Bend Approach, Delta Yankee Yankee, a Cessna 172, VFR flight plan from Claire County to South Bend, Inbound for landing, with information and Squawking .. etc." DYY, you are radar identified. You are cleared to land .. etc. You are Number One". What a marvellous voice the man had. This man had a voice which could guide me through the Valley of Darkness! No other aircraft were about and this seemed ominous. The air became thick and as I saw on the Loran we were really close to the Airport but I could not see it. It was not the thing to do at all, but my finger closed over the radio button and I croaked: "It's awfully murky up here, please give me some guidance Sir." He chuckled. "You're doing fine. Just hold that heading."
We then saw the Airport and the sight I had been dreading: About half a mile off the end of our runway was like looking through a dark window. Dust was flying. The wind was blowing in a different direction. Things were blowing around and hail or heavy rain was bucketing down. The radio was crackling with static and lightening flashed from behind the dark "window". My blood ran cold and hair stood on end at the horrible sight. The Controller was talking softly in my ears; telling me to turn on final and take it easy. I ran through the pre-landing checks like an automaton and turned on final as the wind-sheer turned in behind me. DYY floated down over the runway and landed so gently as though flown by someone else.
At such times I do not fly. In fact the plane is flown by a consortium of instructors. The most important instruction I ever had was: "Forget everything else and fly the plane. You must not care if another plane has crashed on yours. You must still fly your plane." I later heard that was exactly what had happened to him .. and he landed his plane unscathed .. with the other one on top ! No wonder he taught me so conscientiously.
As I taxied toward the Airport, the Controller had turned his attention to a large jet which took off toward the storm. "Only just made it out, didn't you!" He remarked. "Yeah .. and a Good day to you." Returned the pilot.
"Get a hanger." Said Ed urgently. "We must have a hanger."
We stopped the engine outside a hanger where ground handlers were putting a large twin-engined plane away. Ed leapt out like a deer. I was pinned in unable to get my seat back (due to the sticky runner). Elly was stuck in, unable to get her seat forward. The storm struck. As though clutched by a giant, DYY swung around, one wing came up and the yoke was wrenched from my hand. I pulled the yoke over into the "quartering tail wind position". Understatement of the year, I thought. "Get your seatbelt back on, Elly .. She's going to flip over." I yelled, above the storm.
Then other hands grabbed DYY. The ground crew from the hanger came running out, bending double against the storm, they pulled her into wind and, hanging onto the struts and wings dragged her into the hanger beside the big twin.
The rain, hail and thunder rang out like gunfire in the hanger. "If this develops into a tornado we're still not safe", I said gloomily to Eleanor - and went to get my video camera.
Shortly thereafter, a courtesy bus came to take us to the main Airport buildings. We watched the storm from the relative safety of a comfortable pilot lounge, while a helpful receptionist arranged for another courtesy bus to take us to a Holiday Inn for the night. After a day like that their motto seemed very appropriate: "The Best Surprise is No Surprise!"
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