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.
