Dew Point - The surprise assassin

Like so many of us in stressful or sometimes unpleasant jobs, we return to our fanciful dreams of being pilots and flying for a living.

How on earth does my fanciful dreams relate to dew point... Read on, it is a twisted tale of dreams, challenges and survival.
I experienced my midlife crises around the age of 30. I sincerely hope that I will live to a ripe old age of 117, so in my opinion I experienced my midlife crises a bit earlier than most. 

I was ambitious, worked anywhere between 10 - 12 hours a day, and as a consequence was quickly promoted to my highest levels of incompetence. The stress that accompanied me on this journey grew to a point where I no longer wished to live the life I had chosen. 
There must be more to life, than the rat race and the endless stress I experienced as an Software Development Manager in a large fast growing insurance company.

Sitting on the porch of my house, I looked out over the lights of Johannesburg and remembered the dreams I had of flying helicopters on an island, entertaining tourists as I flew alongside stunning scenery.

One of my vices or shall I more kindly call it coping mechanisms for the stress I experienced, was to play a computer game called, Battlefield 2. A war game with the ability to fly Huey's or Cobra gunships with realistic controls. It was right up my alley. I logged about 260 hours flying helicopters in the game and become reasonably proficient at it.

When my wife was offered an opportunity to work in New Zealand, it was as if all my dreams  and opportunities suddenly aligned. 

I sold my Savannah 912S which freed up some capital, and we started the preparations to immigrate to New Zealand. I was lucky enough to have a six month sabbatical before we moved to New Zealand, and with the support and encouragement of my wife I decided to start training for my PPL(H).

Island + Helicopter + Supportive Wife = Dream life.

I started flying with an Aviation School located at our nearest local airport. I cannot speak more highly of the people and the professionalism of their operation. As a matter of fact, I still remain in contact with them from time to time. The airport altitude was about 4600 feet, with density altitudes approaching 7000 feet at times.

On the 3rd of September 2007 I got into the Cockpit of a R22 for the first time. That first take of was exactly how I imagined it would be. The sense of enduring elation I felt cannot be described. 

Lesson 2 was extremely challenging... Why on earth won't my hands, my head, my feet, and the silly helicopter work together to establish a stable hover. I went home that night feeling extremely tired but determined. 

The most amazing thing happened during the next couple of lessons. One moment I couldn't fly a helicopter, and the next moment ... CLICK ... I could. 

The hours in the cockpit ticked on steadily.  I could hover the helicopter in one spot, do fancy turns, land with a stuck pedal, survive an engine out, not to mention the hover taxi in strong wind. O, and don't forget the dreaded but fun auto-rotations.

On the morning of the 3rd of October 2007, like so many of the previous mornings, I started my day with a weather briefing, and preflighted the R22. It was a beautiful day with a fresh smell in the air, barely any wind and not a cloud in the sky. I did notice that Dew point was only two degrees below the current temperature. 

I am still not exactly sure how the weather changed to cause what I experienced, but I won't get ahead of the story.

My instructor and I flew a couple of circuits, and he asked me to land the helicopter. Strange I thought.

Finally it dawned on me that he was sending me solo. There was no time for self congratulations. As he got out he said "Now remember the stick is going to come back a lot further than you expect when you take off. Go enjoy yourself!"

Deep breath ... check the instruments ... all clear ... find a spot in the distance ... raise collective and fly the copter.

I taxied onto the taxiway which we used for heli take-offs and fly a perfect takeoff.

I managed the transitions like a pro, keeping a beady eye on the Rotor RPM, and the instruments.

At about 300 feet AGL, I could start concentrating on where to go next in the circuit, when BAM! 

A big puff of cloud appeared out of nowhere in front of me. I saw a gap on the crosswind leg and turned towards it. 

5 seconds later I flew straight into another cloud that had formed around me.

At this point I had lost sight of the ground, and was totally engulfed in the cloud. I lowered the collective to see if I could fly out of the cloud. I broke through the base of the cloud just enough to see the ground and to gain my orientation.

I dropped the collective almost right down, I needed to get clear of the cloud. I was number two in the circuit, and number one was nowhere to be seen. 

At this point I was flying the circuit at about 200 feet AGL and I was early downwind. Puffs of cloud were appearing and disappearing randomly, as a weaved my way between them.

Finally I turned base and to my amazement the clouds started disappearing.

I landed the helicopter, and got ceremoniously welcomed to the skies with huge bucket of water over the head.

Once again my poor guardian angel has had to perform some minor miracles to get my little R22 safely on the ground.

During the debrief we discussed how something like that could happen. It had been the first time we had seen anything like it. My instructors thought that it may have been an inversion layer which broke down and somehow lowered the air temperature to the dew point temp, which caused the clouds to form.

I believe the lesson from this adventure, has been to really understand the environment you fly in. Carefully consider whether it is safe to fly when the dew point temp and outside air temp are within in 1 - 2 degrees of each other.

Be vigilant, things go wrong with even the best preparation. Do you have a few predetermined plans in up your sleeve if you get caught in a similar situation?

Just in case you are wondering, I am not flying for a living, and I am once again a Software Development Manager. However I am living on a beautiful island. What happened you may ask? Well, that is a story for another day.

Microlight Survival Adventure - The missing spark plug

My first aviation experience ... and it nearly killed me.

Bought a plane

My first aircraft I owned was a Skyfox/highly modified Quicksilver II, registration ZS-WRA. It was old, and just a little bit dodgy. I purchased the microlight from a second hand car salesman, who I shall call "Dick" going forward. He provided the engineer who gave the aircraft an airworthiness certificate. *Mistake 1* Dick is an very apt name for him as it turned out. 

Use your iPad to create your build log

The most interesting thing of the aircraft was that braking was achieved by taking your feet of the rudder pedals and dragging them on the ground to slow yourself down....Gosh this is scary in hindsight !

Started Flying

Dick also owned a Microlight school, and employed an instructor who I shall call "Johnny". They were to be my first aviation instructors. *Mistake 2*

The service at the air school was absolutely shocking, and the ethos was all about getting as much money as possible. A small example, I use to drive 1.5 hours to the flight school early in the mornings only to be turned back as decision would inevitably be that the wind was way too strong for my little airplane, or nobody decided to pitch up. For some strange reason I decided, to stick with the School, even after I watched Dick get drunk and eagerly take to the sky in his Aerobatic Aircraft *Mistake 3*

My first flight lasted 30 minutes on the 27th of September 2003. I got taught the Effects of controls and I loved every second.

Solo!

I finally went Solo on the 26th of February 2004 after a full 6 hours training. I was authorised and endorsed in my logbook for solo circuit, navigation and GF all at the same time.

I thought I was awesome, in just 6 hours I got to solo!!! Little did I know.....*Mistake 4*

My flying was perfectly adequate and safe, however I felt somewhat under prepared for some reason. So I thought I'd ask Johnny what happens when your engine stops on take-off...
The response was "Well you die". Hmmm, I thought, hope the engine doesn't stop.

A month later, I took my aircraft out of the Hanger on a beautiful day. At this point I have flown solo for 3 hours, and I enjoyed every moment of it.

I was a bit confused why I still had to pay a fee for every hour  flown in my own airplane, especially as there was nobody else at the airfield. (In hindsight, I never actually got signed out for solo flights) 

Today was going to be Stall training, exciting stuff. I started my ground roll and the airspeed indication was really slow to increase. I kept the nose on the ground but at 30 mph, I leapt into the air. 

"Strange" I thought.

The airspeed started to increase to the 50 mph range, and all was good once again. I decided to continue flying *Mistake 5*

Stalls of death

I started my stalls. I'd enter the stall take the power off and keep the nose up...50...49...48....Nose flops down.... dive to recover ... 48 .... winds starts whistling through flight wires....49.... ground seems to be approaching a bit faster than I expect.

I pulled out of the dive, and I thought I was going to depart the aircraft  through the bottom of the seat. My face hung in my lap, butterflies abounded.  Strange the stall speed on the airplane is 35 mph.

Fully convinced, that I stuffed up some how, I recovered to level flight at 3000 feet AGL and tried again.

Same happened. 

At this point some basic wisdom started to return me, or it was my guardian angel that suggested I land, as he couldn't keep the airplane in the air anymore.

Perfect landing, and I came to a stop. The airspeed indicator still indicated 30 mph. 

After investigating the problem, low and behold a wasp had decided to build a nest in my pitot tube.

Only now, can I understand the significance of the danger I was in. 

The story does not end here.

Mud...Water...Mud...Water

My father and I did some maintenance on the aircraft the next week-end and replaced the spark plugs and cleaned her up. She looked like a new aircraft, and I couldn't wait to take her up for a flight on the following weekend, I wanted to go do some more stall training.

The weekend arrived and it was a beautiful day. I rolled the airplane out, started her up and taxied to the active runway.

As I rolled onto the centerline, a Nut with a piece of bolt fell into my lap.

Hmm, best find where this belongs before I go flying.

I taxied of the runway, shut down the engine and completely inspected the airplane. After 30 minutes I decided that it must have been in the wing for a while and has shaken loose.

I decided to take off, 300 meters above the ground my spark plug fell out of the inverted Rotax 503. The engine is placed upside down above your head, and the plug hung right next to my head. I thought to myself, hmmmptf, I will have to screw that back. The engine continued to run on one cylinder, but the airspeed started to bleed off. 

So what did Johnny say again... engine failure on take off... you die. Sh!t.

I tried turning back to the runway, but lost too much height. My options where either the muddy marsh to left or the small dam to the right.

For about 10 seconds all I could think was ... Mud... Water...Mud...Water... and I decided on Mud.

I did almost flawless landing, however I ended up with the airplane on my back. The nose had folded up into a 90 degree angle. 

I was staring face down into the mud.

1 minute passed, and I decided to get out of the airplane.

The fact that I went on to lock my car keys in my car on the same day, broke a brick on my car window, and got asked whether the airplane is okay instead of whether I was okay by wife, did add some spice to the day.

God saved my life that day.

By all accounts, I should be dead and another statistic for the darwin awards.

I later found out that I had been flying the aircraft with a split propellor, a sheared main wing bolt from the previous stall flights, broken torque tube in the passenger rudder pedals, and incorrectly torqued spark plugs.

I had completely overstressed the airframe due to the previous stall training flights, and the blocked pitot tube.

Had I not lost the spark plug, I would have done more stall training flights, and I would have folded the wings 3000' above ground.

Looking back I cannot believe how ignorant I was and plainly put stupid.

The Guardian Angel assigned to me, had worked overtime, and I believe may have suffered some injuries in the process :)

How does this relate to building an aircraft?
I took the following lessons from this:

Lesson 1: Don't buy an airplane from someone who you do not trust, or if you cannot confirm the exact history of the aircraft or the project.

Lesson 2: You are only as good as the training you receive. Do your research and don't fly with fools or cowboy pilots.

Lesson 3: If it all seems too easy, it is most likely wrong! Check what you are being taught. A second opinion can save your life.

Lesson 4: Assume nothing, if it looks wrong, feels wrong or causes doubt in your mind, DO NOT FLY. Park it, go home, come back the next day to inspect it with a clear head.

Lesson 5: Just because a problem cannot be immediately found, does not mean it doesn't exist!

Do your part!
Please share your lessons on this page. I would love to hear what experiences you have had that others can learn from. 

Aviation is a virus!

Infection

Ask most boys what they want to be when they grow up and you will invariably hear ... Police Officer, Fireman or Pilot.

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Strange enough, although I made a career in the IT industry, I ended up becoming a Police Officer, Coast Guard volunteer and a Pilot. Not exactly a Fireman, but close enough.

My passion for aviation was ignited by my father and my uncle, kindly referred to as uncle Spooky.

My first real memory of aviation was of a white plastic Bell Huey, which uncle Spooky brought back from a trip to the USA. It had lights and was very scale like. It had a metal rod in the tail that controlled the speed of a small motor which powered the main rotor.

It was amazing!  It would basically trash itself to death, as the blades weren't particularly balanced. I loved every second staring at the model imaging myself flying it all around the room.

Symptoms

The aviation virus lay dormant in me. Sometimes some symptoms would emerge. I would spend a week focused on designing my latest aviation wonder. From jets that could become submarines to huge flying aircraft carriers. ( This was long before the Avengers had one!)

As if it was a planned, a few television shows got my attention and fanned the virus into a full frenzy.

Airwolf, Magnum PI and Robotech utterly convinced me that I was going to a pilot. I did not stop drawing and designing aircraft for at least few years after that. Especially airplanes that could become robots! Yea, the Transformers are cool, but only the bad guys turn into things that can fly.

My first inoculation

I turned 16 and decided that I needed to research my options in earnest. I contacted the Air Force.

My first experience with an government agency was not that pleasant. Apparently I was too tall, and you needed eyes that could see the flea on the bottom of a cat running on a hill 5 miles away. Wearing classes were deemed to be a significant barrier to finding employment in the aviation sector.

The virus went dormant....

It would still entice me to go to the odd airshow, but life happened.

I joined the police service, as conscription was still in force. That lead to a meaningful career in IT which in the end was the reason for the secondary infection.

Virus turns incurable

Without giving away too many of my stories: The IT career ensured sufficient money in the back pocket.  With a mild interest in Microlights I went to a Microlight fly-inn.

BIG MISTAKE!

The comradery and amazing flying machines immediately turned the aviation virus it a life long disease. 

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I went on to own a very dodgy microlight, which was essentially a highly modified Quicksilver Ultralight. It was an amazing little aircraft, 50mph takeoff, 50mph approach, 55 mph cruise. 

My fondest memory of the airplane was a mock dogfight with a fokker bi-plane, but that is a story for another day.

Before immigrating to New Zealand I owned a Savannah 912s STOL aircraft. Tricky to land, easy to fly, character galore. I sold it, to enable my family to immigrate.

After a year of living in New Zealand, I decided to get my act together, and purchase a kit to build.

The money from the aircraft sale was not enough to buy another airplane in New Zealand, hence the decision to build one instead.

I did all the research and decided on the Zenith 601 XL as my kit of choice.

I am still building my aircraft. My son was born two years ago which has put a hold on the build process for a while.

The rest of the blog will share some of the experiences I have had along the way and the challenges I have faced. I hope to share some of my flying stories as well.

I use an iPad based build log to do the formal documentation, but I will post my progress on this blog as well.

Here are some resources to get you started. Feel free to suggest other meaningful links.