the journal of the professional helicopter pilot
Accident Investigation
Putting the pieces together
COLUMNS
& MORE
FEATURES
2 From the President
3 Letters to the Editor
20 NTSBs
5 The First Age of Helicopters
14 Control Tower Tours
6 Miss America Visits ‘The Nam’
15 ‘THE’ Superior Oil Company—
A glimpse of the past
18 Live and Learn—
A Little Help From My ‘Friends’
8 Cover Story—
Accident Investigation
22 Test Pilot
Volume 5
www.autorotate.com
Issue 3
May-June 2005
A u t o r o t a t e i s t h e o f f i c i a l p u b l i c a t i o n o f t h e P r o f e s s i o n a l H e l i c o p t e r P i l o t s ’ A s s o c i a t i o n ( P H PA )
From the President
PHPA OFFERS MEMBERS A POWERFUL NEW MEDICAL BENEFIT
Everyone who makes their living as a
pilot shares the same trepidation—failing
your flight physical. Your inability to
renew your Class 1 or 2 medical can
have devastating effects on you and your
family. Failure can be the result of a
recently discovered illness or the progressive deterioration of an existing condition. And, it doesn’t have to be a life
threatening condition. Depression, kidney stones, and asthma can all result in
the temporary or even permanent loss of
your ability to earn an income as a pilot
and deprive you of the opportunity to
pursue the job you love.
Several months ago, my good friend
Paul Bohelski sent me an e-mail suggesting I look into the possibility of providing some type of benefit to our members
which could help with “FAA Medical”
problems. He suggested I look into the
Virtual Flight Surgeons team. I followed
his suggestion and really liked what I
saw.
Virtual Flight Surgeons (VFS) is a
team of national board certified
Aerospace Medicine physician specialists, each with over 20 years of experience in aeromedical certification, dedicated to helping pilots with medical certification problems. In addition to their
aeromedical expertise, they are also experienced with the FAA Aeromedical
Certification Division processes and personnel and assist literally thousands of
2
pilots every year. And, they guarantee to
protect the privacy of the pilot involved,
unless, with the pilot’s consent, specific
intervention is required.
After several months of work, PHPA
has now entered into an agreement with
the Virtual Flight Surgeon team to provide discounted aeromedical services to
our membership. PHPA members can
now receive confidential, risk-free
aeromedical consultation and assistance
with FAA medical certification. All
PHPA members are eligible to submit one
free (normally a $39.95 charge) e-mail or
telephone consultation each year as well
as receive a 5% discount on services
involving the submittal of additional
information or increased interaction with
the FAA.
VFS serves nearly every airline pilot in
the United States, representing over
80,000 pilots. Availability by telephone
and internet allows member pilots rapid
access to expert information provided by
their staff. In the past year, VFS physicians directly assisted over 7,250 pilots
with urgent aeromedical concerns.
Airline pilot utilization increases by over
10% per year, while corporate and private pilot enrollment have tripled each
year since 1998 when VFS first offered
its services to these groups. They are
constantly seeking feedback to improve
their services to all pilot groups. VFS
designs its services to exceed the require-
ments of its clients.
Visit the VFS website at
www.AviationMedicine.com to review
comprehensive aeromedical information
and to access the Confidential
Questionnaire. PHPA members can
select “Confidential E-Mail Answers by
Aerospace Medicine Physicians-Click
Here” from the home page. Enter
“PHPA” in the “VFS Corporate Member
ID #” which is for members only. Enter
zeroes for the credit card number and
expiration date. Questions or any problems accessing the questionnaire should
be directed to Catherine Cazorla at
(720)857-6117 or via e-mail at [email protected].
I would like to thank Paul for his
excellent suggestion and ask that anyone
with good solid ideas like this to please
send them to me for consideration. This
is a great way to help make PHPA better
for all of us.
Butch Grafton
President
[email protected]
END
www.autorotate.com
Volume 5 Issue 3
HELP ME—I’M IN THE “TWILIGHT ZONE”
Publisher:
The Professional Helicopter Pilots’ Association
Managing Editor:
Anthony Fonze
Design:
Studio 33
Editorial Assistance:
Michael Sklar
Unfortunately, helicopter pilots often
find themselves in the somewhat difficult
position of having to work for extended
periods away from home. It is the nature
of the beast. Recently, I’ve found myself
in this situation for the first time; working a 7 on, 7 off schedule far from home.
It puts life in a different perspective.
Autorotate is owned by the Professional Helicopter
Pilots’ Association (PHPA). Autorotate (ISSN 1531166X) is published every other month for $30.00 per
year by PHPA, 1809 Clearview Parkway, New Orleans,
LA 70001.
I have come to think of my time away
from home as time spent in the “Twilight
Zone,” also known as the “TZ”. If you
are a little bit philosopher, observer, and
writer, you can come up with some very
interesting perspectives about life in the
“TZ.”
For example, why is it that if your dog
of 10 years is going to die, he always
does it while you’re in the “TZ?” And,
when we’re in the “TZ” we’re often clueless about what day of the week it is
(especially if your “TZ” week starts on a
day other than Monday). This accounts
for the oft repeated “TZ” expression,
“Today is my Friday.” Of course, you’re
saying this on a Monday or Wednesday.
Along a similar vane, there do not appear
to be any weekends in the “TZ.” And,
living in the “TZ” seems to spawn midlife crises in 40 something male helicopter pilots. Why is that? (No, I’m not
talking about me. I got mine out of the
way when I was 26.)
The “TZ” is a subject that needs to be
explored and I believe that Autorotate is
the place to do it. And, that is why I am
personally asking for your help.
Many of you have lived in the “TZ”,
some for many, many years. I want to
hear your stories and your observations.
I want to hear your coping mechanisms.
What do you do to make the “TZ” more
survivable for yourself and your marriage. What do your spouses do? What
funny observations have you made?
What weird behaviors have you witPhotography: Shawn O'Brien
Copyright © 2005, Professional Helicopter Pilots’
Association. All rights reserved. Reproduction in whole or
in part is strictly prohibited. It is illegal to make copies
of this publication. Printed in the U.S.A. by union
employees.
nessed (or performed)? What stories can
you share? What advice can you give?
Let’s capture this stuff and get it down on
paper.
I’m intending to assemble this article
for the next (July/August) issue, if at all
possible, so don’t delay. Please send me
any pertinent thoughts. They can be single sentences, scribbled notes, or cohesive thoughts strung together in paragraphs. I don’t care. I just want to capture your impressions and experiences.
Send whatever you have to
[email protected]. Or, stick
something in the mail to me:
Tony Fonze
3160 N. San Remo
Tucson, AZ 85715
Or, call me on my cell, 520-906-2485,
and I’ll do my best to get back to you
and listen to your ideas in a timely fashion. This may take a little longer if I’m
in the “TZ” at the time.
Don’t let me down. I’m excited about
this article.
Subscriptions:
Subscriptions are provided to current members of PHPA.
PHPA membership is offered at $60.00 per year.
Promotional discounts may be offered. For a complete
list of membership benefits go to www.autorotate.org.
Single issue reprints offered, when available, for $5.00
each. To become a member of PHPA or to notify PHPA of
a change of address, contact PHPA at 1809 Clearview
Parkway, New Orleans, LA 70001.
Phone 866-367-7472. Fax 504-779-5209.
E-mail [email protected].
PHPA members may submit address changes at
www.autorotate.com. Local members may submit
address changes through their locals. Local members
with e-mail addresses, who are not registered at the
website, should contact their locals.
Article Contributions and Editorial
Comments:
Article contributions, including ideas, freelance stories,
an interest in assignment articles, Live and Learn
experiences, photographs, and comments are welcome
and should be sent to autorotate, 3160 N. San Remo,
Tucson, AZ 85715. Phone 520-906-2485.
Fax 520-298-7439. E-mail [email protected].
Autorotate and PHPA are not responsible for materials
submitted for review.
Notice:
The information contained herein has been researched
and reviewed. However, Autorotate and PHPA do not
assume responsibility for actions taken by any pilot or
aircraft operator based upon information contained
herein. Every pilot and aircraft operator is responsible for
complying with all applicable regulations.
Cover: The Game - Composite by Studio 33
Thanks, Tony
END
3
“You Have Mail”
From our last issue...
Union pros and cons
Hi Tony,
Just finished reading the magazine with
the union article. You obviously put a lot
of time into research. I learned a lot
from it.
You did a good job of staying neutral
about the topic. I think most intelligent
people realize that unions may be a necessary factor in some industries. Flying
happens to be one of them. Because it is
a job so many would like to do, it puts us
at the mercy of employers who would
take advantage of our love of the job.
What’s with the cover?
Autorotation training…
Another beauty, especially enjoyed the
Pete Gillie’s piece and the one by Jimmy
Shuler shines too. But, a comment must
be made about the cover guy’s headgear:
Way too big for the model! Are you kidding? Imagine what it would look like, if
the guy was in an open cockpit with 100
mph of relative wind and some prop blast
thrown in, it would break the guy’s neck!
I just read the fireside chat with Pete
Gillies and was refreshed to see that the
word is getting out. I came from the
civilian market to become an instrument
IP at Ft. Rucker. As Pete mentioned, we
don’t fly over hard surface runways all
day long. Unfortunately, the only experience these new Army pilots get are turbine assisted autos. I have personally
experienced 4 real autorotations in my
career with no mishaps, all under max
performance conditions. I credit this
only to hours of training and practice in a
Bell 47 helicopter. However, it is unfortunate that many flight training facilities
do not teach full on autos due to the
added risk, because the last three feet
make a difference.
Later, Wingo
Editor’s Note: Can’t argue with the cover
graphic observation, but you try coming up with
free, pre-packaged, graphics to support a cover
story entitled “UNIONS!” Editor
I’m pleased that PHPA has a thoughtful
representative to get an informative message out to the industry. As you said,
you can’t please everyone, but that really
isn’t the point is it?
Thanks, Jonathan
Thanks, Jeff
Importance of aft cyclic
Right on time
Thank you so much for this special
issue on helicopter pilot unions. It is so
well-researched and complete! You have
answered a lot of questions for me as
well as my fellow pilots. I fly for Air
Methods, and found this publication most
useful and timely. Thank You.
Appreciative Member
Live and Learn—
More than just
entertaining reading
We can all learn from the experiences of each other. It is something
we can give back to our pilot community. Your story may even save a
life. With that in mind–
Get Off Your Butts and Send
Me Some Live and Learns!
The fact that it’s short may help too…
Received my first copy of Autorotate a
few days ago. Not often I read an entire
magazine standing by the mailbox. Very
fine work!
G’day, Dave
4
They can be brief or long, rough
drafts or well crafted. Don’t worry
about your English or writing skills—
that’s why we’re here. Submit your
Live and Learn stories to Tony
Fonze, editor at
[email protected].
You’ll be glad you did, and so will we!
The article with Pete Gillies makes a
big deal about aft cyclic, which I
believe—but, I haven’t heard this explanation before, nor have I paid much
attention to aft cyclic when practicing
power recovery autos. It certainly isn’t a
step on my conscious list of things to do.
Michael
Response from Pete Gillies
The cyclic back situation applies to all piston
helicopters as well as to all turbine helicopters,
regardless of make, model or size, or how many
rotor blades they have. Unless and until the
flow of air has been caused to flow upwards
through the rotor system, the helicopter is not in
an autorotation. Very simple and very true.
Manufacturers simply state “keep the rotor in
the green” and the FAA doesn’t even talk about
it.
www.autorotate.com
The problem is, what must the pilot do to prevent the rotor rpm from dropping to the point
where it can never be recovered? The answer is,
apply aft cyclic the moment the engine or driveline fails! Sure, move the collective down as
quickly as possible, but as the article explains,
this action will not do anything to reverse the
reduction of rotor rpm. It will reduce the rate of
decay but not initiate the reversal of the trend.
Sincerely, Pete
Editor’s Humble Observation:
When simulating engine failures in the training situation, I have often encountered students
(usually someone else’s) who introduce forward
cyclic the moment after I’ve rolled off the throttle and announced “simulated engine failure.”
The resulting, precipitous drop in rotor RPM
(even with immediate down collective) has
grabbed my attention in a big way on more than
one occasion. The student’s comment usually
was, “I was only doing 60 knots so I wanted to
build a little airspeed.” My response, “Aft
cyclic, down collective, right pedal—all together,
then we’ll worry about airspeed.”
Letter from Marty Wright, Chief
Flight Instructor, Bell Helicopters
Shortly after the issue went to print, I received
a phone call from Marty Wright, Chief Flight
Instructor at Bell Helicopters in Texas. It turns
out that both Autorotate and another helicopter
publication had both done stories on autorotations in the same month. Marty and his staff of
flight instructors had some observations and
points that they wanted to bring forward in
response to the articles. Their response is a
lengthy one and they ask that I print it in full.
I intend to do so, but it would not begin to fit
in this issue, which was almost ready for print at
the time. So, I will commit to printing it, in its
entirety, in the next issue. Look forward to it.
Editor
END
The First Age of Helicopters
1861–1904
By Alex de Voogt
Three men were responsible for the
first age of helicopters: the inventor of
the word helicopter, the inventor of the
toy helicopter and Jules Verne. They
introduced the helicopter in an age when
heavier-than-air flying machines were
discussed but not yet successful. Even
the Wright brothers were inspired by
their helicopter but once they turned to
airplanes that “other” age of aviation
would conquer the world.
The idea of the helicopter is said to go
back to Chinese tops, toys developed
around 400 BC. The first idea for a helicopter carrying people is consistently
attributed to Leonardo Da Vinci (14521519) whose drawings of an ‘aerial
screw’ date back to 1483. Da Vinci’s
ideas were not widely disseminated. His
notes changed hands several times after
his death and they remained unused for
centuries until his aerodynamic ideas
were reinvented in the 1800s.
From 1861 onwards an aviation vocabulary was developed in French and
English in which the idea of a helicopter
claimed much attention. After this first
period, sometimes referred to as ‘Saint
Hélice’, a second period followed which
became known as ‘the golden age of aviation’ in which helicopters no longer
played a dominant role.
The hélicoptère was introduced by
Vicomte de Ponton d’Amécourt (18251888) a leading aircraft pioneer of the
1860s. In 1861, he patented the name
hélicoptère in Britain and a year later in
France for one of his flying contraptions.
It consisted of two helix-shaped wings
placed above each other, whose spinning
would lift the machine into the air. It
was a small, steam-powered aircraft but it
could not generate enough lift to fly. He
derived its name from two Greek words:
helico-, the genitive of helix meaning spiral or screw, and pteron, wing.
The popularity of the helicopter was
not due to this unsuccessful flying
machine but rather, to the invention of a
toy with the same name. Alphonse
Pénaud (1850-1880) developed a model
airplane in 1871 which achieved both
longitudinal and lateral stability. A rubber band, when wound up, would spin a
propeller made out of cork. This propulsion device was attached to a bamboo
stick to which a larger and a smaller
curved wing were attached which stabilized the aircraft in flight. The simplicity
and effectiveness of Pénaud’s model
turned it into a popular toy of the 1870s.
As a result, the hélicoptère entered the
French and English language but with the
definition of d’Amécourt: a vertical flying machine.
In 1878, Orville and Wilbur Wright,
age 7 and 11, started their experimental
flying machines with Pénaud’s hélicoptère. It would fly for a few seconds but
when Wilbur tried to build an improvement to that toy helicopter they were surprised to discover that the bigger the
machine, the less it would fly. Pénaud’s
invention did not have the properties of a
CONTINUED ON PAGE
Graphic: Supplied by Alex de Voogt
6
5
CONTINUED FROM PAGE
5
helicopter or vertical flying machine but
rather, the properties of a powered model
airplane. Its influence on the two, yet-tobe-famous, children led not to the first
helicopter but rather to the first man-carrying fixed-wing airplane.
Jules Verne was impressed by the
design of Ponton d’Amécourt and joined
the discussions relating to the possibility
of heavier-than-air flying machines. In
1863 he published his scientific studies
on aviation based on the experiments
conducted by d’Amécourt and the Italian,
Enrico Forlanini (1848-1930). In 1877,
Forlanini had lifted a helicopter 13
meters above ground in Milan. Their
experiments convinced Jules Verne that
the future of aviation was with rotarywing aircraft.
In 1886, Jules Verne launched the
Albatross in his novel Robur-de-conquérant. This work was widely translated and also become known under the title
Clipper of the Clouds in the British edition of 1887. The Albatross could be
seen as a combination of a ship and a
helicopter. It was powered by electricity
and used multiple propellers to lift itself
into the air in addition to an aft propeller
which was to send it forward. The
Albatross became a popular image and
reoccurred in Jules Verne’s Maître du
Monde of 1904. It was the first helicopter to enter the international literature.
Verne’s explanations of the heavierthan-air machine, the illustrations and the
frequent use of the word hélicoptère
fixed the machine and the word in the
public’s imagination. Not until the helicopter was beyond its experimental
stages would the world literature and the
aviation industry revive or better initiate
their interest in helicopters. That would
be another age of helicopters more than
half a century later.
Contact: [email protected]
END
6
Photography: The author; Dorcey Wingo
Miss America Visits ‘The Nam’
By Dorcey Wingo©
One day back in good
ol' 1969, Miss America
made her rounds of South
Viet Nam. Wherever she
traveled, young pilots,
like myself, were taken
off combat assault rolls
and ordered to fly her and
her entourage around in
the newest Huey we had
available. That meant
that the "H" model had to
be all spit-shined and gleaming. And that
meant that the pilots had to help make it
that way, because there was a lot to do
and only four people to do it, practically
overnight.
I recall having mixed emotions about
flying the mission. On one hand, I feared
the rush of distracting hormones that
most of us manly types suffered from
upon being suddenly exposed to a helicopter full of gorgeous, radiant women.
On the other hand, I was embarrassed to
be assigned a non-combat job. I was one
of the newer peter pilots at Camp Enari,
home to the "Famous Fighting 4th"
Infantry Division, therefore I was at the
beck and call of my Company
Commander. If Major Griffiths wanted
Wingo to fly the right seat of the "V.I.P."
Huey, then by gosh, Wingo was available. There were worse jobs.
So there I was and here they came, an
hour or so late. I tried not to look at the
beauties; just did my duties, setting up
the ship to crank as the XO showed the
lovely ladies into their seats and seat
belts—taking a lot longer than I thought
was necessary. The young Captain probably fell into a daze back there amongst
the cluster of fragrant southern belles
dressed in camouflage, yet looking good
enough to eat. I tried to keep my
thoughts on the turbine engine's N1 and
exhaust gas temp amid their charming,
melodious giggles; roasting an engine at
this point would not get
me any Brownie points.
The firebase we were
flying to was about half
an hour west of Camp
Enari, and I can't begin to
remember its name, as
they came and went under
the direction of Major
General Pepke. If the CO
at the firebase knew of
Miss America's approach, I don't think he
bothered informing one combat infantryman who chose that time of the morning
to head for the head. And who on earth
put the incredibly dusty helicopter LZ
next to the head? Whomever, the guy
had a military sense of humor.
Looking back, it might have been a
secret to the troops that five of the finest
looking, unattached American women
alive were only a minute away. No sense
in telling Charlie about our precious
cargo, as he was not above ruining our
day at any given moment.
No one could have been less aware of
Miss America than the brave, temporarily
clean and shirtless GI who faced the
morning sun and calmly dropped his
shorts. He bowed, taking a seat on the
open-air slit trench's wooden stoop as our
slick banked in his direction. My final
approach over the firebase's wire-strewn
perimeter was deliberately hot, zeroing-in
on a red smoke grenade just upwind of
the head. Standard tactical approach.
The Huey was heavy with fuel and the
Highland's density altitude was over six
thousand feet that day, as usual. Picking
my spot, the skids slid onto the ground
with forward momentum near the smoke
canister as I reduced collective pitch. I
kept one eye on the smoke, and one on
our disbelieving GI, seated thirty feet
away, his olive drab skivvies down
around his ankles. I heard the XO key
www.autorotate.com
his foot mike as he looked forward for
the first time and took in the scene
unfolding at twelve o'clock.
"HOLY SH _ _!" the Captain gushed,
as the ugliest cloud of dust in all of II
Corps boiled under the Huey's forty-eight
foot main rotor, and raged in the direction of those green skivvies. At the last
second, the GI looked up at us with an
expression of... not again! Resigned to
his fate, he leaned forward, turned his
head to the side, and clenched his eyes
tightly shut. His precious roll of paper
began to spin and flutter, as he tightly
gripped the rough wood board behind his
bent knees with both hands. The nasty
red dirt momentarily obscured his image,
tearing at him like an angry herd of tumbleweeds.
stories including some of my favorites:
“When Turbines Explode”; “Goodbye
Drive Shaft, Hello Trees”; “Helicopter
Lightning”; and “Dead-Eye Lyle and the
Sons of the Code Talkers.” To obtain a
copy of Wind Loggers go to www.buybooksontheweb.com and enter either the
title or author’s name. The price is only
$13.95 plus shipping and worth every
cent. Or, go to the source and get an
autographed copy for $25.00. Send your
check or money order to Smoking Hole
Productions, 807 W. Lorraine Pl., Rialto,
CA 92376-5635.
I do not make this recommendation
lightly. This is good stuff, written by a
master. Go buy one for yourself and give
one to a friend. - Tony Fonze
END
You could hear the lovely ladies gasp
in unison behind us as the hapless soldier
went feet up and over backwards, the roll
of toilet paper shooting skyward, unraveling. It was a scene burned forever into
the windshield, never to be forgotten by
manly warriors nor virginal beauty
queens.
As the dust cleared, our vista became
the backlit underside of the wooden
bench: Several uniformly sawed privy
holes were all lit up horizontally, left to
right. Toilet paper waved gaily from
yonder perimeter's concertina wire.
Behind hole number three, the naked GI
reclined on his backside in the warm, red
dirt. Slowly, his right arm rose, and he
flipped Miss America the bird, through
hole number two.
Dorcey Alan Wingo is a long-time helicopter pilot with countless, memorable
experiences and the skill and humor to
put them in writing. I have long referred
to him as the “Mark Twain of helicopter
pilots,” and I mean it. Now, Dorcey’s
writings have been compiled into a book,
Wind Loggers, published by Infinity
Publishing Company. Wind Loggers is a
collection of 30 of Wingo’s best short
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7
Cover story
Accident Investigation
On July 12, 1994, a Bell 206L-3
(N3178B) crashed, roughly 13 miles
northeast of the Mimbres Heliport, in the
high mountains of southwest New
Mexico. The helicopter was under contract with the United States Department
of Agriculture, and it was being used to
transport four Forest Service firefighters
to a newly reported fire.
Two firefighters were injured in the
crash. The other two firefighters, and the
pilot, were killed. According to the
National Transportation Safety Board
report issued the following year, the
probable cause of the accident was the
pilot’s improper decision to attempt to
hover out of ground effect under adverse
conditions while exceeding the maximum
allowable weight for that maneuver.
Factors in the accident were a high density altitude — about 13,200 feet at the
point of intended landing — as well as an
evident tailwind.
Ten years and nine months later, on
April 5 of this year, I took my little
brother for his first helicopter ride and he
became my first passenger. He is 13
years old, and his given name is Michael.
But, since July 12, 1994, everyone has
called him “Boomer,” in memory of the
pilot who had often flown my firefighter
dad.
Long lasting effects
An accident sends out ripples that
touch many lives, in unpredictable ways.
In 1994, I had no idea — not a clue —
that I would one day become a helicopter
pilot.
But, I clearly remember the shock
wave of grief that followed the crash of
N3178B. My family was lucky, because
it was only by chance that my father was
not on that afternoon flight. At memorial
services for the victims, we felt grateful
to be standing where we were: on the
brink of devastation, but not consumed
by it.
We still hear echoes from the accident.
In a way, we hear them every time we
call my brother “Boomer” instead of
“Michael.” More importantly, it’s in the
back of my mind every time I fly. I
printed out a copy of the NTSB report a
month or so into my private training, and
I keep it handy, tucked into my notebook
or FAR/AIM.
An accident investigation serves many
functions, but its primary purpose is
instructive: we learn from others’ mistakes so we won’t make them ourselves.
In subjects like settling with power, performance planning and weight and balance, the plain language of the NTSB
report made more of an impression on
me than the cautionary words of my
instructor (and I had a good, conscientious instructor). But as I revisit the
report, I have to wonder if it went far
enough. There’s a lesson here, but how
much of it have I learned?
Accident Investigation School
The Transportation Safety Institute
(TSI) is contained on the campus of the
Mike Monroney Aeronautical Center,
next door to Will Rogers World Airport
in Oklahoma City. The Center employs
about 4,400 government and contract personnel. It’s the largest concentration of
Department of Transportation employees
outside of Washington, D.C. and is a key
facility for the Federal Aviation
Administration. Among other tenants,
it’s home to the Civil Aviation Registry
(where your pilot records are stored), the
Civil Aerospace Medical Institute,
Aviation System Standards and, famously, the FAA Academy, which trains thousands of FAA employees every year.
The Aviation Safety Division of TSI
sponsors the National Aircraft Accident
Investigation School. This is where FAA
employees receive the formal education
they need to become accident investigators. The FAA has around 3,700 accident
investigators, according to Kelly Teague,
a course manager at the school. By contrast, the NTSB has around 50. If you
By Elan Head
are involved in one of the approximately
2,000 civil aviation accidents that take
place each year, it is very likely that the
only investigators on the scene will be
from the FAA.
“That’s what we prepare these folks to
be: on their own,” says Teague, an investigator whose first accident as an IIC —
investigator-in-charge — was a grim
triple fatality that he responded to by
himself. “I didn’t know I wouldn’t be
getting backup,” he says. “I wasn’t prepared.”
I met Teague in March, when I came to
Oklahoma City to sit in on the last two
days of a Basic Aircraft Accident
Investigation class. Teague is a former
Army helicopter pilot who lost an eye in
the 1985 crash of his own, experimental
Piper J-3 Cub. (Teague has no memory of
the crash sequence itself, and the probable cause of the accident is “undetermined.” A witness discovered his plane
nose-down in a field with its tail almost
straight up.) Following his recovery, he
flew helicopters for 10 years in the Gulf
Photography: Kelly Teague
of Mexico — yes, with one eye. Then he
worked as an FAA investigator before
joining TSI. Teague stopped counting
accidents when he responded to his
100th. To say that this guy is qualified
for his job is an understatement.
Accident investigation is emotionally
demanding, without question. Before my
visit to Oklahoma City, I hadn’t appreciated how intellectually demanding it is,
too. “It’s like ‘Crime Scene
Investigation: Airplane,’” Teague says,
referring to the popular television show.
Aviation accident investigation pulls
together threads from many disciplines:
metallurgy, mechanics, meteorology, psychology. It is usually conducted in suboptimal conditions, with time pressures
and in the public eye.
Teague explains to me the initial
sequence of an accident investigation.
When a witness to an aviation accident
dials 911, the emergency dispatcher notifies all relevant first responders: emergency medical services, fire departments
and local law enforcement agencies, like
the sheriff’s department. As public safety
personnel tackle the immediate crisis, law
enforcement contacts the nearest flight
service station, which in turn contacts the
regional operations center of the FAA (or
first responders may call the ops center
directly).
Who’s “The Man?”
The ops center pages the IIC, who, like
a doctor, is on call. Now, that FAA
investigator makes a series of phone
calls: to law enforcement on the scene, to
the coroner if required, and to the NTSB
investigator on call, to determine whether
that agency will dispatch investigators to
the field.
How the NTSB decides which accidents to respond to seems to be a bit of a
mystery, even to the FAA. Later, I speak
with Hector Casanova, regional director
of aviation safety for the NTSB’s South
Central Regional Office. “I’ve been with
the Board for 15 years, and every few
years we redefine which (accidents) we
respond to and which ones we don’t,” he
says. The NTSB’s Washington, D.C.
9
headquarters has a “Go Team” that
responds to all major and high-profile
accidents. Lesser accidents are investigated on the regional level. “How you
define ‘major’ — the ones where the TV
news says: ‘We interrupt this program to
bring you ...,” those are the major accidents,” Casanova says. “But if it’s: ‘A
helicopter autorotated onto a golf course
today, details at 11,’ that’s a regional
accident.”
Casanova continues, “We do have
some degree of latitude to launch on an
accident if we think there’s a safety payback.” If an aircraft crashes in mysterious
circumstances, the NTSB is more likely
to launch than if the circumstances of the
accident appear to be straightforward.
“And if the aircraft is being used for
commercial purposes we might be more
likely to launch than if it was a pleasure
flight,” Casanova says. “In commercial,
the parameters need to be a lot tighter.”
The reason for the NTSB’s selectivity is
simple: to leverage its resources. “Our
agency is very small,” says Casanova.
An NTSB investigator might handle 50
accidents a year, and it is impossible for
him or her to be physically present at all
of them.
If the NTSB responds to an accident, it
will be in direct control of the investigation. By law, the FAA has its own investigation responsibilities, and will work
alongside the NTSB to the extent
required to meet them. Generally speaking, the FAA is required to determine the
facts, conditions and circumstances of the
10
Photography: Kelly Teague
accident; to identify safety issues surrounding the accident and submit meaningful safety recommendations; and to
identify its “nine responsibilities” —
whether the accident involved FAA facilities, non-FAA facilities, airworthiness
issues, airman or air agency competence,
inadequate regulations, airport certification, security, airman medical qualifications and/or a violation of regulations. If
the NTSB does not respond to an accident, the FAA has the same responsibilities, plus the additional requirement to
supply reports and information by which
the NTSB can make a determination of
probable cause.
“My job is to collect the data,” says
Teague. “Saying what happened, that’s
the NTSB’s job.”
Management is key
An investigator-in-charge is a manager,
even when he or she is the only investigator on the scene. An IIC is in constant
communication with many different
agencies — the NTSB, various divisions
of the FAA, local law enforcement and
other groups as applicable (the military,
for example). He or she is responsible
for determining whether a biohazard
exists and arranging for appropriate
countermeasures. The IIC coordinates
with any groups that should act as parties
to the investigation — say, manufacturers’ representatives who might be able to
offer technical insights — and it is the
IIC who fields questions about the accident from the media. And all of this is in
addition to the nuts and bolts of accident
investigation: sifting through wreckage,
looking for clues.
On May 31, 1984, a Cessna 152
crashed in an inverted flat spin near
Fairview, Oklahoma. The 59-year-old
pilot was fatally injured.
Here are some relevant facts:
• The accident occurred in the daytime
under visual conditions. Winds were
from the south at 12 knots.
• The pilot was alone. He had 1,681
hours total flight time; one hour in
the previous 90 days. He had airline
transport, multi-engine land, singleengine land and instrument ratings.
• The aircraft experienced in-flight
breakup. Parts of it were found as far
as one-half mile from the primary
point of impact, and parts of the wing
and aileron were never found.
• There was no evidence of powerplant
failure.
Give up?
An autopsy on the pilot revealed that
the cause of death was massive trauma
with evidence of incapacitation due to
arteriorsclerotic cardiovascular disease.
In layman’s terms: he had had a heart
attack. But the investigators-in-training
— call them IITs — who are roping off
the wreckage with yellow caution tape
don’t know this. What they have to work
with are some of the background facts
I’ve related here, the twisted remnants of
www.autorotate.com
the plane itself, and the bottle of heart
medication that Teague has planted in the
passenger side of the aircraft. The clock
is ticking.
Final exam
It’s a cold, clear St. Patrick’s Day
2005, and I’m witnessing the practical
that concludes a TSI Basic Aircraft
Accident Investigation class. We’re on
the grounds of the Mike Monroney
Aeronautical Center in TSI’s “boneyard,”
a fenced-in lot that contains the donated
wreckage of actual accidents. Of the various crumpled aircraft scattered around
the boneyard, five are the subject of
active investigation by students. TSI
employees wander from one to the next:
“witnesses” that enterprising investigators will corral for interviews. The students must also contend with Rick and
Gwin Lippert, real-life journalists who
play the convincing role of a pushy news
crew.
“Man, machine, environment” is the
mantra that TSI teaches its students;
every accident is attributable to one or
more of these three. In some accidents,
like the one I’ve described here, weather
— the “environment” — can be easily
eliminated as a factor.
“If you can take weather out of the
equation, right there you’ve reduced your
workload by 33 percent,” Teague tells his
students. Of course, weather is the simplest factor to assess. Failures of the
“machine” may be obvious to the trained
eye, or they may be baffling. And finally, no matter how complex the aircraft,
its pilot is always 10 times as cryptic. If
an accident has no survivors, it is difficult, sometimes impossible, to piece
together what happened. “There are
some accidents, we’ll never know what
happened,” Teague admits. “And that can
be tough.”
Accident investigators have diverse
backgrounds — some have experience as
pilots or mechanics, and some do not.
But most have the basic aviation literacy
required to look at a broken aircraft and
identify its parts. What TSI instructors
do is teach them how to look more closely. “If something hits the ground and just
breaks, it’s going to look a lot different
than if it came apart in flight,” explains
Andy McMinn, a TSI course manager
with particular expertise in metallurgy.
McMinn teaches students to look at shear
lips, the lines along which metal separates. If a shear lip has a sharp, 45-degree
angle, that indicates ductile overload: the
break likely occurred on impact. If a
break was the result of metal fatigue or
corrosion, its shear lip will be different,
generally not as sharp.
scenes, it will help them cope with the
smell.
It’s similarly critical to distinguish
between pre-and post-impact fire damage. An in-flight fire may be a key factor
in a crash, but post-impact fires are not
uncommon. “If there’s fuel on board
when you crash, there’s a pretty good
chance you’ll have a post-impact fire,”
says McMinn. The trick here is a difference in temperature. In-flight fires
almost always achieve higher temperatures than post-flight fires — air rushing
against the aircraft creates a bellows
effect — and the signatures they leave on
metal differ accordingly. An investigator
will look for the clues, like discoloration,
that indicate an extremely hot fire.
The cause of the fire was a broken rear
heater fuel line that sprayed fuel onto an
electrical component, where it ignited. It
wasn’t the only time my grandfather had
to contend with a potentially catastrophic
malfunction. When he expresses concerns about my flying, he’s often thinking
about flaws in the machine. But I know
that what he probably needs to worry
about is me — and if I were a very experienced, high-time pilot, he would still
need to worry about me.
There are other things that an investigator is alert to: the aircraft’s attitude at
impact, the apparent function or malfunction of flight controls, the evidence of the
flight instruments and suggestions that an
aircraft was overloaded. Missing rotor
tips or rudders can be as telling as the
evidence at hand. It’s a fascinating
process, and today (with green beer to
look forward to), it’s also a lot of fun.
But back at the TSI office, there is an
envelope of graphic photos to remind students of the realities they will face as
investigators in the field. Teague tells
them to carry Vicks VapoRub to accident
It’s the pilot’s fault
My grandfather flew planes in the
Navy from 1948 to 1960. In his catalogue of close calls, there is the time that
a fire burned through the tail of his TBM
as he returned from a bombing run near
El Centro, California. Another pilot in
the air radioed him to bail out, but as he
puts it, “as long as an airplane’s flying
you kind of want to stay with it.” So he
requested, and made, an emergency
straight-in landing at the airfield. Shortly
after touching down, the tail disintegrated
about three feet behind the ball turret.
He got out.
By conservative estimates, between 70
and 80 percent of aviation accidents
today can be attributed to human error.
The number cited is often higher. This is
the ironic consequence of advances in
engineering. As aircraft have gotten progressively safer, the people who work on
and fly them have become their weakest
links. In their book, A Human Error
Approach to Aviation Accident Analysis,
authors Douglas Wiegmann and Scott
Shappell observe: “It now appears to
some that the aircrews themselves are
more deadly than the aircraft they fly.”
Shappell is a former Navy commander
with a background in psychology. He is
also the Human Factors Research Branch
Manager at the Civil Aerospace Medical
11
Institute, or CAMI (although he will be
leaving the position shortly to focus on
academic work and consulting). Shappell
teaches part of the TSI course “Human
Factors in Accident Investigation.” The
class relies largely on his and
Wiegmann’s “HFACS”: the Human
Factors Analysis and Classification
System, a uniquely successful model for
identifying and analyzing human error in
accidents.
Wiegmann and Shappell originally
developed HFACS as an aviation accident investigation tool for the U.S. Navy
and Marine Corps. But the model proved
so widely applicable that it was subsequently adopted by the entire Department
of Defense, by civil aviation organizations around the world, and by non-aviation groups, including some in mining
and manufacturing. The FAA does not
currently use HFACS in its active investigations, but it is using it as a tool to analyze accident data. According to
Shappell, CAMI has used HFACS to
code data from all general, commercial
and military aviation accidents, finally
allowing for meaningful comparisons
among the three. “What HFACS does is
it’s a tool to help you go in, assess errors
and point you in the right direction for
intervention,” Shappell tells me. Instead
of looking at the “what” of human error,
the model seeks to understand the “why.”
HFACS is based on James Reason’s
“Swiss cheese” theory of accident causation, which was developed for the nuclear
power industry. The basic idea is this.
Any organization comprises layers of
12
Photography and Graphic: Kelly Teague
responsibility, and those layers must
work together to create a safe operating
environment — to block out accidents, as
it were. A breakdown in any single layer
creates a “hole.” Put enough holes in
enough layers, and eventually an accident
is going to get past them.
A series of unfortunate events
What HFACS does is specify the
nature of those holes. Take the top layer,
which is the front-line world of the operator. HFACS calls holes in this layer
“unsafe acts,” and these are the actions
that directly precipitate an accident (usually our faults as pilots). An unsafe act
might be an error: a breakdown in visual
scan, the wrong response to an emergency or spatial disorientation. Or, it
could be a violation, like filing VFR in
marginal weather conditions.
But dig down one layer deeper. Here,
the holes are “preconditions for unsafe
acts,” and they encompass the condition
of the operator. The pilot made an error.
It is possible that he or she was fatigued,
or simply lacked adequate training.
Either of these latent errors is a hole in
the “cheese.” The next layer is supervision, and there are holes here, too.
Perhaps the pilot’s supervisor failed to
provide training opportunities, or to
ensure an adequate rest period.
Eventually, the question of “why” leads
to “organizational influences”: excessive
cost-cutting, poor hiring practices or
unrealistic schedules.
“I’m not a believer in ‘pilot error,’
never have been, never will be,” says
Shappell. “Good pilots make mistakes.
You shouldn’t have to die if you make an
error.”
“Pilot error” — there’s a phrase that’s
been around a while. My grandpa wasn’t
surprised when I told him that most accidents today are due to human error.
“That’s because they always want to
blame it on the pilot,” he said. In
Chickenhawk, Robert Mason’s account of
the helicopter war in Vietnam, he writes,
“I mean, if the rotor blades came off in
flight, the pilot was posthumously
charged with failure to preflight the ship
properly. ... Pilot error.”
Historically, accident investigators
haven’t done much to probe the root
causes of pilot error. They could probably still do more. “Once you find the
pilot is at fault, the investigation stops
there,” says Al Duquette, a senior captain
at PHI and the Professional Helicopter
Pilots Association’s safety officer. “But
the pilot didn’t typically get to the accident all by himself.”
Earlier this year, Duquette attended
both Basic Aircraft Accident
Investigation and Human Factors in
Accident Investigation at the TSI campus
in Oklahoma City. He is now qualified
to act as a party to FAA investigations.
Since 2001, the FAA has advocated
“Systems Safety,” a philosophy that, like
HFACS, emphasizes the interconnectedness of layers within an organization.
Involving helicopter pilots in accident
www.autorotate.com
investigation is one way of pulling those
layers together. “Al is the first one
through the gate,” Teague tells me.
“We’d like to see more.”
For Duquette, representing PHPA on
accident investigations is an opportunity
to protect pilots’ interests. Manufacturers
and operators have long acted as parties
to investigations, where they’re able to
offer their own, valuable perspectives on
an accident’s chain of events. But
Duquette suspects, cynically, that they
also “get in to protect their self interests.
The first thing they want to do is blame
the pilot.” Pilot representation in accident investigations is not unheard of.
Still, Duquette asks rhetorically: “Who’s
been protecting the pilot’s interests in the
Gulf of Mexico?”
As painstaking as are the major investigations, it’s easy to feel that helicopter
accidents get short shrift. Speaking now
as a former Gulf pilot, Teague says, “We
have helicopters out there that disappear
and it doesn’t even make the news. I’ve
lost personal friends out there, and we
looked for them for 24 hours. That was
it.”
Change your priorities
Ten years puts a lot of water under the
bridge. When I look at the accident report
that opened this story, I have questions:
why was the helicopter over gross
weight? What were the time pressures to
complete the mission? Were there policies in place for performance planning?
Did the pilot receive appropriate training? But I’m not on a crusade to find the
answers, nor should I be.
“Any individual accident, in my view,
isn’t very relevant in and of itself,” says
Shappell. “JFK Jr. was an important guy
and he died and it was sad, but I don’t
really care about JFK Jr., I care about the
other 24,000 accidents that have taken
place since 1990. If we just go around
trying to fix the causes of single acci-
dents, we’ll never get anywhere — we’ll
be chasing our tail. It’s important to look
at trends.”
But how about those trends? If you’re
involved in the U.S. helicopter industry
— and if you’re reading this story, you
probably are — you’ve probably also
operated in unsafe conditions. The latent
errors in your own workplace might be
exceptions. More likely, they’re the rule:
the result of constantly pushing the envelope, demanding more performance from
the machines and the people who fly
them.
“In the Gulf of Mexico, we typically
fly the aircraft so heavy there’s very little
margin for error,” says Duquette, who
identifies other latent failures in pilots’
long working hours and poor rest conditions. Duquette flew two combat tours in
Vietnam, and he thinks that the missionoriented mentality of American helicopter
pilots is part of the problem. “We were
saving lives, people were depending on
us, literally,” he says. “We got the mentality of guardian angels and saviors, and
that mentality is very easily transferable
to the Gulf of Mexico. Doing a lot with
nothing is part of it.”
“It’s easy to look at an accident and
say, ‘This is what went wrong,’” says
Teague. “But to go back to your company
and tell the owner, ‘You have this $3 million process, now it’s going to cost you
$4 million,’ that’s the tough part.”
One thing is clear. Accidents are the
culmination of a chain of events. And, if
we’re ever going to experience a marked
reduction in the current trend of accident
counts seen in the helicopter industry, it
is going to require the participation of
everyone involved in the chain making
changes along every link in the chain.
And before that can happen, a sincere
desire for change must be felt throughout
the industry.
Elan Head is a freelance writer and helicopter pilot living in Phoenix, AZ. She may be
reached at [email protected]
END
Yet this mentality isn’t inevitable. In
many places overseas, helicopter pilots
operate with much higher safety margins
(and live longer because of it). “As I was
exposed to more and more overseas
pilots, I had to ask myself, ‘Why?’” says
Duquette. “The Europeans have the idea
that if you do everything right and
behave yourself, you’re going to live a
very long time.”
Where does that leave U.S. pilots? Are
the stakes so much higher here that we
should tolerate our systems’ faults? Or is
it more important, say, to see a son grow
up with his father? Fatal accidents are an
opportunity to ask these hard questions.
Unfortunately, they don’t have simple
answers.
13
Control Tower Tours
A few months ago I was a guest at the
control tower of Phoenix Sky Harbor
Airport. I have been to many control
towers and approach control facilities
during my career but the pilot that was
with me had not. If flying in a high density traffic area is new to you then I’d
recommend visiting the tower to see what
it’s like from the controllers’ perspective.
Even if your operation is near a small
tower you may gain a lot of insight into
the controllers’ responsibilities with a
tour. You will certainly have an opportunity to gain a friend.
We arrived for our tour at 8:30 in the
morning. Security wasn’t quite like Fort
Knox, but I can guarantee that you will
not just stroll into a control tower.
If you want to see what is really going
on in the controllers’ life you need to be
there during peak times, and we were.
Our briefing from the supervisor was
short but sufficient for us to appreciate
the complexity of the operation in this
Class “B” airspace and the workload of
each controller. Overhead we saw a
computer monitor that displayed all the
inbound aircraft lined up for the North
and South Complexes. Phoenix has three
east/west runways, one north of the terminals (North Complex) and two south
of the terminals (South Complex). There
14
Photography: Daniel Norman
are plans to add a second runway in the
North Complex.
The sequencing of arriving aircraft is
handled by center and approach control.
For the tower controller, the monitor was
just for information. Approach control
was sequencing aircraft for a visual
approach landing to the East. One line of
planes on the monitor was approaching
from the Northeast for a left downwind
to the North and South runways, one
from the Southeast for a right downwind
to the South runways, and one from the
West to be merged into the two.
There were two controllers on the
north side of the room, one on tower frequency and one on ground frequency. On
the south side, with two runways and the
majority of departures to handle, the
scene was more complex. The controller
on tower frequency had an assistant. He
was managing flight strips for arriving
and departing aircraft so the controller on
frequency had a visual of the progression.
Two other controllers were handling
ground and clearance delivery frequencies. Between these two groups for the
North and South Complexes were two
controllers coordinating with approach
and departure controls via telephone.
The supervisor roamed the room assisting
where necessary and scheduling breaks.
By John Strickland
Fortunately for me and my fellow EMS
pilots in Phoenix, the hospitals are predominately north of the airport. This
means primary contact is with the North
tower with their lower flight volume and
radio traffic. If a course takes us south it
is easier to circumnavigate the critical
airspace east or west using coordinated,
predetermined boundaries to avoid the
south complex during busy times. Of
course, when we are inbound with a
patient from the south we coordinate with
the south tower for transition.
Looking south out the window of the
tower we could see the planes lining up
for departure. At one time there were
twenty planes in line for the South complex. The departures had to be coordinated with the arrivals by placing departing
planes in spaces provided in the arrival
sequence and the judicious use of the
runways available. One of the south runways was used primarily for departures
but both south runways were used for
departures and arrivals in a sort of symphony. The north runway was used primarily for arrivals but departures were
taking place there also. When you add a
“heavy” aircraft in the mix it complicates
matters because increased spacing is
called for to ensure wake turbulence separation. The controller assisting the
south tower controller was actually using
www.autorotate.com
‘THE’ Superior Oil Company
a stopwatch to ensure the policy was followed precisely. One plane was directed
around other taxiing planes to a special
holding area. We were told, if they did
not depart at precisely the right time they
would miss their reservation and mess up
the arrival pattern in Los Angeles.
Speaking of LA, the towers at Phoenix
and Los Angeles are the fourth and fifth
busiest in the nation. They keep swapping places on the list indicating they are
very close in traffic count.
The supervisor was using a notepad to
track breaks. When a controller returns
from a break they are assigned the position of a controller beginning a break.
The supervisor pointed out that she had
her best controller on South tower frequency for this peak period. I got the
impression that she had scheduled breaks
in such a way as to ensure this happened.
This rotation keeps them fresh but from
our operations point of view can confuse
things. It is also one reason the controller on the radio may not know about
your request that you made five minutes
ago. Passing on your request to the new
controller may not have been a high priority relative to the immediate situation
of their busy environment.
When you take your tour of the tower
make sure you ask about local procedures
and how you can make their job easier.
Knowing the controllers responsibilities
makes it easier for us to ask for something that they can approve and makes
everybody happy. Making a request that
they cannot approve just slows everybody down, adds frustration and stress to
the operation and degrades safety.
Take the time to schedule a tour of
your local facility. You’ll learn a lot,
make new friends and become a better
professional in the process.
END
Photography: Hemerra Images
A glimpse of the past in the
Gulf of Mexico
By Duane Keele
The year was 1974. I had just returned
from 7 years in South East Asia flying a
Sikorsky H34. I tried my hand at real
estate sales, but we were in a minor
recession at the time and I wasn’t making
enough to feed my family on sales commissions. So I decided to go back to helicopter flying for just a few years until
something better came along. I retired
from helicopters 30 years later.
But, I am getting ahead of myself.
At the time, there weren’t a lot of helicopter jobs to be had. One company I
had tried 7 years before was Petroleum
Helicopters in Louisiana. I was fresh out
of the Marine Corps and checking around
for flying jobs before going back to my
college degree field of chemical engineering. When they told me they were
paying $680 a month, I laughed into the
receiver and hung up on them. I had
been making $1200 plus allowances in
the Marines.
Well, I called them up again and was
amazed to find that they had gone up to a
whopping $780 per month. I took it. I
had been making $5000 dollars a month
in SEA, but my savings were dwindling
fast and, like I said, there was a recession.
I went to Lafayette for a check out.
They put the new hires in a Bell 47G to
test their flying skills. I had 8000 hours
in helicopters at the time and they had all
been throttle twisters. It was a snap for
me, but a little awkward for the guys
with all or mostly turbine time. After
check out I was sent to a little town on
the Texas coast, Port O’Connor, to fly
one of the few Bell 47’s still in the company. After about 6 months, they moved
me back to Morgan City to fly the Bell
206, my first experience in a turbine
engine aircraft.
When a slot came up in Cameron,
Louisiana to fly the last Bell 47J model
in the system, I was more than happy to
jump back into an old reciprocating
engine aircraft. I felt comfortable in
them.
I showed up in Cameron the next
week. (The work schedule was one week
on and one week off at that time.) The
base manager, George Messer, was
assigned to check me out. The J model
was an elongated version of the Bell 47G
15
(The bubble cockpit helicopter.) The J
had one seat forward where the pilot sat,
and three passenger seats across the back
and behind the pilot seat. George
climbed in the pilot’s seat and put me in
the back. He explained how to start the
aircraft. Then he took off and made one
circle around the heliport, landed and
shut down. Expecting to switch seats for
my flight, I unbuckled my seat belt and
moved up to the pilots seat. When I
looked up, George had exited the aircraft
and was headed to his office. He turned
and gave me a thumbs-up.
I checked myself out. George watched
from the ground.
Things went well for about six months
if you don’t count the fact that I was
working for ‘THE’ Superior Oil
Company. You became Company Man
with ‘THE’ Superior Oil Company by
being able to whip every other man on
the rig. The company man on my hitch
was Mr. Curtis Smith (Thirty years later I
still remember his name). He was 65
years old at the time and could still bring
tears to your eyes with his hand shake
grip. And did.
He wanted his newspaper delivered to
his office every morning when you landed. I was told this by the tool pusher on
my first trip out to the rig. Immediately
after saying, “I’m not your paper boy,” I
was sorry. He picked up the breakfast
plate and coffee cup I had gotten from
the galley cook (I had given the cook a
paper. I knew that much.) Then ‘THE’
Superior Oil Company’s tool pusher
explained in some detail how the food on
the rig belonged to him, and he introduced me to the lunch sign up sheet
explaining “no paper no ‘eatty’ free”. So
I went a month without eating on the rig.
I was not going to let these guys relegate
me to paper boy status.
I finally won over the tool pusher one
day when I started in with him on a crew
change day. Just as we were about to
beach in, one of the worst thunder storms
16
site me. I went in to George and argued
against sending Bing to ‘THE’ Superior
Oil Company. They are not going to
accept a foreign pilot out there I argued.
After his first week I couldn’t wait to see
how he had fared with those hard asses.
of my 39 years in the Gulf of Mexico
rolled off the beach. I didn’t have
enough fuel to turn back to the rig, so I
flew to the jetties (a line of rocks piled
out from the mouth of the river for about
a mile into the Gulf). I dropped down to
about ten feet above the rocks and flew
into the beach. I never saw as much
lightening in my entire flying career.
Four and five bolts were striking the area
all around us at the same time. I was sitting in that J model, feeling a lot like a
lightening rod.
When we got to the beach things
cleared up rapidly and I landed at the
base figuring this was going to be the end
of a not very good working relationship
to begin with. The tool pusher got out
without saying a word, got his bag out,
walked to the edge of the helipad, put the
bag down, and started back to the helicopter. Well, I thought, here it comes.
To my surprise, he pulled open the door
and stuck out his hand. He was one
happy man to be on the deck. I ate well
the rest of my stay on Rig Transworld
147.
At this time I will try to explain the
old-time off-shore Cajun mentality.
When you first arrived at a new job or
location, it was always going to result in
a head-butting situation. The people out
there were going to push you to see how
much you would take. The only way to
win this battle of wills was to resist. The
more foreign you were to their culture
the worse the ‘hazing’ was going to be.
One example was when they sent a
Vietnamese pilot out to fly the job oppo-
His company man was Henry Hebert.
When I asked Henry how he had fared, I
was surprised by his answer. “He’s a
good pilot,” Henry said. Later Henry
told me, when Bing got there he had tried
to make a big deal of the language barrier. Bing was sitting at a table and Henry
sat down and started talking to him. He
started telling Bing how hard it was to
understand him. Bing had been a colonel
in the Vietnamese Air Force and didn’t
take to the hazing very well at all.
When Henry had asked him to repeat his
name for the third or fourth time, Bing
lost it. He shoved his chair back
slammed his fist on the table and yelled
in Henry’s face, “My name’s Bing, Bing.
Like Bing Crosby. But I don’t sing!” I
had under estimated Bing.
He couldn’t have handled the situation
better. Henry saw he couldn’t cower this
foreigner, and Bing had said something
that made him laugh. Bing was in with
his crew.
That was the way in the Gulf in those
days. If you were from Louisiana no
problem, Texas or the South not too bad,
but a Yankee or foreigner had to pass the
test.
Things got better as the time passed. I
would be invited into the company man’s
room on the weekends to watch ball
games with him. I was surprised the first
time Mr. Oliver pulled out his fifth of gin
and poured a drink while he watched his
ball game. Booze offshore was a big nono, but this was ‘THE’ Superior Oil
Company.
Curtis Smith was no Beatles fan. Long
hair was a no-no on his rig. I was summoned on several occasions to rush a
technician out to repair a break down that
Photography: N. Cook
www.autorotate.com
was costing thousands on a rig. When
the service hand would show up with
long hair, I would warn him that they
weren’t going to let him on the rig. The
service man’s usual reply was that he was
needed to save the rig thousands of dollars. I never argued with them. I would
fly them out, watch them unload their
tool boxes and bags and lug them down
stairs, and then lug them back up and put
them back on the helicopter and I would
fly them back to the beach. Later in the
day the service company would send
back a short haired service hand to go out
and fix the problem. I have no idea how
much Curtis cost ‘THE’ Superior Oil
Company.
‘THE’ Superior Oil Company loved
their J model helicopter. Petroleum
Helicopters had to keep parts just for this
one helicopter and would have been glad
to see it go. I inadvertently helped them
out with this after about six months on
the job.
Seems the waves got the tail rotor on
landing. I looked at the instruments and
saw that the engine was running again. I
shut it down, unbuckled my seat belt,
took off my life vest and was in the
process of folding it and placing it on the
seat like after every flight when it
dawned on me that this was the situation
for which I had been wearing that vest.
I quickly put it back on and went out on
the floats in case this thing took a sudden
notion to sink.
John had notified the platform next
door to send a boat and in no time one
was speeding toward me so fast the bow
wake almost capsized me as it pulled up.
I had attached a rope to the helicopter
and threw it to the boat to tow the helicopter to the platform.
Then I made my biggest mistake of the
day. The boat was right up beside the
helicopter so I grabbed the rail to climb
aboard. The Gulf had a different idea.
As I grabbed the side of the boat near the
bow, a wave caught the boat and suddenly I am about twenty feet in the air holding onto the rail for dear life. All the leg
flailing and kicking in the world was not
helping me get on that boat. Then the
bow started down. I think now I’m going
to need that vest.
Just as the water hits my feet, two big
old deck hands each grab an arm and pull
me on board. It’s down hill from this
point.
It was never determined what caused
the back fire. The gasket in the air filter
was blown out, but I never heard anything else. I was never called to a board.
I think PHI was so glad to get the J
model out of its inventory and away from
‘THE’ Superior Oil Company they just
hushed everything up. I spent another
uneventful six months working for
THE…ooh you know who, before going
on to a more orthodox job.
END
It was around Thanksgiving. A cold
front had come into the Gulf. It was near
freezing and the seas were choppy, probably about six foot waves. I was called
to deliver a part to the rig. Arriving on
location, I shut down and went below to
round up something to eat. When I was
released to go back to the beach, I went
up the stairs and cranked up the J model.
I put on the carb air heat and lifted. As I
started over the side of the rig I heard a
very loud backfire and the manifold pressure dropped. I was only about 65 feet in
the air, but managed to get the collective
down and make a successful autorotation
to the choppy sea.
After the landing I took the opportunity
to place a few choice words into the mike
which were heard back at the base in
Cameron and by John Franklin who was
flying a Bell 206 over head at the time. I
set there for a time collecting my
thoughts because things had happened so
fast. Then I told Cameron I thought
everything was okay. John corrected me.
17
Live & Learn
A Little Help From My ‘Friends’
It was January of 1970 and I was close
to the end of my first 10-day hitch as a
205 pilot in Ecuador. We were moving
“helirigs” around the jungle in the
“Oriente” (literally translated as “East”
and the term Ecuadorians used to
describe everything east of the Andes
mountains). We (PHI) had three Bell
205A-1’s and actually kept two of them
flyable most of the time. The Colombian
helicopter company “Helicol” was there
with four Bell 204B’s.
The customer had three Parker
Brother’s helirigs which were designed to
be broken down into 3,500 lb (+/-) pieces
and it took about 250 lifts to move one
rig, its camp, and initial supply of consumables (drill pipe, mud, cement, diesel
fuel, etc.). The lease area covered about
five hundred square miles of jungle and a
typical rig move was 5 to 10 miles. As
soon as one rig was moved to its new
location, another was being broken down
in preparation for its next move.
Between rig moves and re-supply it was
a massive undertaking and we flew sunup
to sundown everyday with every helicopter that was flyable.
A typical rig move would start with us
putting a crew of indigenous laborers
(Obreros, as they were called) down as
close as possible to a new location (usually on a sandbar in one of the many
rivers that ran through the area). They
would hike into the new location and
start cutting down trees. As soon as they
had the clearing big enough, we would
sling in a Caterpillar Bulldozer, broken
down into eleven loads. Twelve hours
later the Obreros would have the “CAT”
up and running and pushing down more
trees. We would sling in two more
“CATs” and they would start preparing
the location. This usually amounted to
leveling off the top of a small hill to a
size of approximately 150 X 150 meters.
18
Although the jungle looks pretty flat
from the air it is actually quite bumpy,
with small hills and valleys hidden under
the triple canopy. Once the Obreros had
the site ready we would sling in the
“porta camps” and finally, the drilling
rig.
The heaviest loads we carried were the
“mud tanks”: large metal boxes used to
mix the drilling mud. They were approximately 30 ft long, 10 ft wide, and 8 ft
high and weighed a good 4,000 lbs.
They could only be carried early in the
morning and with minimum fuel. Even
then, they had to be turned upside down
because if you tried to carry them rightside up they would fill up with the helicopter’s downwash and that made them
impossible to pick up.
I had listened intently to the “war stories” told by the more experienced pilots
each evening at the base camp. I actually
believed some of them, and hoped to
learn from their near misses. I looked
forward to my first mud tank so I could
demonstrate my skill as a young (25) but
experienced (2,500 hours) helicopter pilot
to these seasoned veterans.
Finally the big day arrived. I flew into
the “Auca 1” drill site right after dawn
and dropped off a blivet of Jet-A.
Looking around for the “loadmaster” I
saw him standing on top of big blue mud
tank with the ring in his hand. “Oh boy,
here we go,” I thought to myself. I hovered over him and watched him in the
By Dana Raaz
mirror (located between my feet) as he
slid the ring over the cargo hook. I waited a few seconds for him to climb down
and run out to the right side of the helicopter before pulling more pitch. Taking
my time and being careful not to move
the cyclic, I continued to increase collective until the torquemeter was on the redline (54 psi). Something was definitely
wrong. I was about 8 ft over the tank
(this was 1970 and long-line hadn’t been
invented yet), at full power and the tank
wasn’t moving. I finally backed the
power off until the cables went slack and
punched the hook release. The loadmaster was already running towards another
load and by the time I got there he was
ready to hook me up. I don’t remember
what the second load was but it came off
the ground fairly easily and I headed
toward the edge of the clearing. I hit
translational lift about the time I went off
the edge of the hill and accelerated
smoothly to 50 Kts. Five minutes later I
delivered the load to the “Auca 2” drill
site and immediately returned to “Auca
1” for the next load.
Scott Wead, a senior pilot who had
been on this job for six months, had just
delivered another load of Jet-A and he set
down on the refueling pad to stay out of
my way until I was off with the next
load. Imagine the mixed feelings I was
experiencing when I saw the loadmaster
standing on top of that blue mud tank
again. I was down to 500 lbs of fuel at
this point but I only had 700 lbs on board
Photography: Irfan Parvez
www.autorotate.com
when I tried to pick it up the first time.
Would 200 lbs really make that big a difference? Oh well, if they wanted me to
try it again, I was game. Surprisingly at
54 psi I felt the tank rise a few feet off
the ground. Ever so gingerly I eased the
cyclic forward and started towards the
edge of the hill. I wasn’t accelerating
very quickly but I figured if I could keep
the tank off the ground long enough to
get to the edge I could trade a little altitude for airspeed and once in translational lift I could climb above the trees on
the other side of the depression.
WRONG!
When I got to the edge there was no
turning back and I was totally unprepared
for the sudden sinking feeling I got when
I lost the ground cushion. I drug the tank
through a few small trees and kicked it
around a few large ones as I fought for
translational lift, all the while sinking
lower and lower. I finally hit translational lift in time to cyclic climb over the
next ridgeline only to lose it at the top
and start back down the other side. It
seemed like an eternity as I fought that
tank with white knuckles. All the while I
had my thumb on the cargo release button but I knew I’d have the skids in the
trees before I’d use it.
Scott soon appeared over the site and
proceeded to hook up his next load.
While he was waiting to get hooked up
he called over the VHF and said: “I never
saw them do that before. How’d it
work?” I had no idea what he was talking about and I told him so. I could hear
him laughing as he described what he
had seen from his vantage point on the
fuel pad.
“When the loadmaster climbed down
from the tank the second time, I guess he
decided to give you some help. He had
eight Obreros (four on each side) grab
the bottom of the tank and help lift it off
the ground. They staggered across the
well site holding the tank off the ground
until they got to the edge of the hill at
which point they let go. We saw you disappear below the level of the drill site in
a level attitude. In a few moments we
saw you stagger over the trees on the
next ridgeline and then disappear below
the trees on the other side. I didn’t see
any smoke so I guessed you made it.”
I was speechless. I hadn’t seen the
Obreros underneath the helicopter. I
wasn’t even watching the loadmaster. I
was concentrating on the torquemeter.
I shut down, got out of the helicopter
and went over to the loadmaster.
Between my high school Spanish and his
oil-field English we reached an agreement. He wouldn’t help get the loads off
the ground and I’d stop dragging his
tanks through the trees.
Lesson learned? Just because someone
is in a position of responsibility and
works day in and day out around helicopters, don’t assume he fully understands
all of the dynamics of the situation. It’s
better to be accused of micro-management than to let someone else ruin your
whole day.
END
Finally the helicopter started to climb
and I was able to get 35 Kts out of it
before the pitch oscillations became
uncomfortable. The tank was slowly
spinning under the helicopter (at about 10
RPM). As it went perpendicular to the
helicopter the 205’s nose would pitch
down; as it continued around it would go
parallel and the nose would pitch up.
Cyclic forward, cyclic aft, cyclic forward,
cyclic aft. Ten minutes later I (none too
gently) plopped the tank into the mud at
the “Auca 2” site and returned to “Auca
1”. I set down on the refueling pad and
tried to steady my nerves as they brought
the fuel back up to 700 lbs.
19
NTSBS
he following information was extracted from
the NTSB files. It has been edited for available
space and is subject to change as investigations
continue. Reports were selected based on the
importance of the information to the broader
helicopter community.
Robinson R44 II; Woodward, OK
April 13; No Injuries
On April 13, 2005, approximately 1130 CDT, a
Robinson R44 II single-engine helicopter, N7535S,
was substantially damaged during engine shut-down
at the West Woodward Airport (WWR), near
Woodward, Oklahoma. The private pilot and his passenger were not injured. In a written statement, the
pilot reported that upon arrival to WWR, he elected
to land the helicopter into the prevailing "strong
northerly wind". Immediately after touching down on
the portable helipad, the pilot initiated the prescribed
"cool down procedures." After "sufficient time", the
pilot disengaged the clutch, waited 30-45 seconds,
and then shut-down the engine. With the cyclic locked
in the center position, the clutch light went out, as the
rotors were slowly winding down. As the pilot
reached back to apply the rotor brake, "a strong wind
gust caused the rotor to lift and strike the tail boom."
The pilot further reported that at the time of rotor
blade impact, "the engine was turned-off and the
clutch was totally disengaged."
A review of photographs that were provided to an
NTSB investigator revealed structural damage to the
tail boom, as well as the main rotor blade.
At 1130, the automated weather observing system
at WWR reported wind from 350 degrees at 11
knots, gusting to 15 knots, 10 statute miles visibility, a
clear sky, temperature 15 degrees Fahrenheit, dew
point 6 degrees Fahrenheit, and a barometric pressure setting of 30.13 inches of Mercury.
Robinson R22; Kailua-Kona, HI
April 23; No Injuries
On April 23, 2005, at 1700 HST, a Robinson
Helicopter Company R22, N8406J, made an autorotational ditching in the ocean 50 yards off shore near
Kailua-Kona, Hawaii. A total loss of engine power
preceded the autorotation. The flight instructor and
private pilot receiving instrument instruction were not
injured. The helicopter sustained substantial damage.
According to the operator, the helicopter departed
and was climbing through 1,300 feet for 1,500 feet
when the engine "suddenly quit." The instructor initiated an autorotation and touched down on the ocean.
Upon contacting the water, the helicopter rolled to the
right and came to rest on its right side submerged in
approximately 8 feet of water. The instructor and student exited the helicopter and swam to shore.
On April 26, 2005, the National Transportation
Safety Board investigator-in-charge (IIC) examined the
engine on the ramp at KOA. The IIC removed the bottom ignition leads and spark plugs in an attempt to
obtain thumb compression on the cylinders. The
removal of the number 3 cylinder spark plug resulted
in metallic debris falling from the spark plug hole. A
borescope inspection of the number 3 cylinder
revealed that the exhaust valve head was not in place
and had separated from the valve stem. Chunks of
metal (one of which resembled the distorted remains
of the valve head) were located within the cylinder
20
head. The number 3 piston displayed impact damage
on its head. The IIC removed the number 3 cylinder
and metallic debris and retained them for further
examination.
Robinson R22; Bandera, TX
April 27; No Injuries
On April 27, 2005, approximately 0831 CDT, a
Robinson R22 single engine helicopter, N422SH, sustained substantial damage when it impacted water
while hovering near Bandera, Texas. The commercial
helicopter pilot and his passenger were not injured.
In a written statement, the 2,216-hour pilot reported that after refueling at a private ranch, he and a
passenger departed and "began a process of herding
some exotic animals across an earthen dam to an
open area for capture." One particular trophy exotic
that they were trying to capture began to swim in a
creek below, and "it was obvious that the animal was
struggling to cross." The pilot then began to hover
beside the animal to herd it out of the water and
towards the bank. At this point, "the aircraft began to
settle with power at a height of approximately six feet
above the water." The pilot "applied forward cyclic
and right pedal, along with a lower collective setting.
The skid gear then settled into the water with forward
motion, and the main rotors contacted the water." The
helicopter sank in approximately six feet of water.
According to the Federal Aviation Administration
(FAA) Rotorcraft Flying Handbook, pages 11-5 to 117, Vortex Ring State (Settling with Power), "Vortex ring
state describes an areodynamic condition where a
helicopter may be in a vertical descent with up to
maximum power applied, and little, or no cyclic
authority. The term 'settling with power' comes from
the fact that the helicopter keeps settling even though
full engine power is applied. Rotor efficiency is lost
even though power is still being supplied from the
engine."
Hughes 369FF; Quantico, VA
April 27; 3 Minor Injuries
On April 27, 2005, at 1800 EDT, a Hughes 369
FF, N5252Y, operated by the Federal Bureau of
Investigation (FBI), was substantially damaged when it
dragged a landing-gear skid and rolled over during a
tactical training flight at the FBI Academy, Quantico,
Virginia. The certificated commercial pilots received
minor injuries. One passenger/jumper on the helicopter received minor injuries, and a recently deployed
jumper on the ground was not injured. According to
conversations with a Supervisory Special Agent, an
FBI preliminary report, and an interview summary
with the pilot, the purpose of the flight was to perform
"fast rope" insertions by helicopter to the roof of a
one-story "building." The building was training apparatus, erected in a designated training area, with a
second-story facade attached.
The helicopter approached the building from the
front, with two jumpers posted on skid-mounted pods
on either side of the aircraft. The helicopter came to a
hover with the fuselage over the building, and the tailboom suspended over the grassy area in front of the
building. The helicopter landing-gear skids were at the
same approximate altitude as the top edge of the second-story facade.
The jumper on the left pod deployed to the rooftop
by fast rope without difficulty. The flight crew then
decided to reposition the helicopter over the building
prior to deploying the jumper from the right pod.
The helicopter hovered to the right, the pilot in the
left seat felt a "bump" in the airframe, and announced
to the copilot that he "might be rubbing a skid." The
pilot adjusted the flight controls to free the skid, and
to maneuver a safe distance from the building façade.
The pilot determined the helicopter was free of the
obstacle, and adjusted the collective pitch control to
raise the helicopter above the top of the facade.
Almost immediately, the nose of the helicopter pitched
up "uncontrollably," and the pilot countered with full
forward cyclic.
The nose continued to pitch up, and the pilot
maneuvered the helicopter to the right to avoid the
jumper on the apparatus below. The helicopter rolled
right, contacted trees next to the building, and then
descended through the trees where it struck the
ground in a nose-down attitude.
Bell 206L-1; Peach Springs, AZ
May 02; No Injuries
On May 2, 2005, at 0945 MST, a Bell 206L-1,
N3895D, lost engine power and landed hard in
desert scrub brush on the Grand Canyon floor near
the Grand Canyon West Airport (1G4), Peach
Springs, Arizona. Monarch Enterprises, Inc., d.b.a.
Papillon Helicopters, operated the helicopter under
the provisions of 14 CFR Part 133 as an external load
long line operation. The helicopter sustained substantial damage. The commercial pilot, the sole occupant,
was not injured. Ground crew in the landing zone
area (LZ) were not injured.
According to the Director of Operations, the purpose of the flight was to sling load fuel cans from
1G4 to the canyon floor to refuel the tour boats. The
accident flight was the first flight of the day. The pilot
utilized a 50-foot long line and a net to transfer 15
fuel cans down to the canyon floor. The pilot reported
that his head was outside the cockpit watching the
ground crew, when he heard a tone, and then heard
a series of popping noises. The helicopter descended
into desert scrub brush.
Witnesses to the accident reported that the
approach was a controlled approach, and there was
no "sway in the load." As a ground crewmember
reached for the load, about 5 feet above the ground,
he reported that the helicopter "sank" and impacted
the scrub brush.
The Director of Operations indicated that the external load weighed about 690 pounds, and there was
340 pounds of fuel on board the helicopter.
According to a Federal Aviation Administration
(FAA) inspector, conditions at the accident site were
light winds, about 3 knots, with a temperature of 75
degrees Fahrenheit. The accident site elevation was
about 1,300 feet.
Sikorsky S-70A; Calabasas, CA
May 04; No Injuries
On May 4, 2005, at 1145 PDT, a Sikorsky S-70A,
N160LA, encountered a vibration after an APU door
separated in flight and struck a main rotor blade near
Calabasas, California. The commercial pilot and two
flight paramedics were not injured; the helicopter sustained substantial damage to one of the main rotor
blades. The County of Los Angeles Fire Department,
the registered owner, was operating the helicopter as
a public-use flight under the provisions of 14 CFR Part
91.
www.autorotate.com
According to the Director of Maintenance, the left
auxiliary power unit (APU) door departed the helicopter during flight and impacted the main rotor blades.
The APU door is located on the top of the helicopter,
near the main rotor blades, and it is secured using
two upper and lower, push-pin type snap latches.
Following the accident, the latches were located separately in a field; each latch remained secured to portions of the door material. Both of the latches were
unlatched. The lower latch attachment plate was bent
with reference to the door material; the upper latch's
lock was twisted 180 degrees. The hinges were not
located. The APU door is opened and secured by
maintenance daily and its security is to be verified by
the pilot during the preflight.
Robinson R44; Gustine, CA
May 11; No Injuries
On May 11, 2005, at 0945 PDT, a Robinson R44,
N144SM, experienced a loss of control, impacted
the runway, and came to rest on its left side at
Gustine Airport (3O1), Gustine, California. Helimark
LLC, d.b.a. Silver State Helicopters, operated the helicopter under the provisions of 14 CFR Part 91 as an
instructional flight. The helicopter sustained substantial
damage. The certified flight instructor (CFI) and student pilot were not injured.
The National Transportation Safety Board investigator-in-charge (IIC) interviewed the CFI. The CFI stated that they were on the takeoff run from runway 36,
about 8 feet above the ground, and accelerating (4050 knots) when he heard a "ticking" noise. He took
the flight controls from the student and tried to slow
the helicopter down. However, the helicopter developed a roll to the right. He input left controls, but
there was no response. The right front skid contacted
the runway and broke. The helicopter then slid down
the runway before it rolled over and came to rest on
its left side. The CFI indicated that the engine was still
running; they shut everything down and exited the helicopter. The CFI reported that they had been practicing autorotations and pattern work about 45 minutes.
According to personnel from Silver State
Helicopters, the helicopter had been returned to service, after a 100-hour inspection, 2.5 hours prior to the
accident. Silver State Helicopters personnel found a
bolt with no nut for the front left cyclic control input
rod to the lower swashplate assembly connection on
the runway. The bolt was retained by the Gustine
Police Department.
An inspector from the Federal Aviation
Administration (FAA) conducted a search of the runway area and found the nut. The investigation is ongoing.
Eurocopter France EC120B; S.
Timbalier 265, GM
May 13; No Injuries
On May 13, 2005, about 1425 CDT, a
Eurocopter France EC120B single-engine turbine powered helicopter, N588SC, registered to CFS Air LLC.,
of Danbury Connecticut, and operated by ERA
Helicopters LLC., of Saint Charles, Louisiana,
remained undamaged during a forced autorotation
landing into open ocean water near offshore platform
South Timbelier ST 265, located in the Gulf of
Mexico. The commercial pilot and passenger were
not injured. According to the pilot, while approximately 14 miles south of Port Fourchon and while
500 feet above the water, he observed the engine
low oil pressure light illuminate and shortly thereafter
the engine lost power. The pilot elected to turn into
the wind, inflate the floats, and perform an autorotation to the water. After a successful autorotation the
pilot and passenger disembarked the helicopter without injury and were rescued. At the time of the incident the pilot reported the fuel gauges indicated
approximately 24 gallons of fuel.
The pilot further reported that the helicopter
remained upright until the recovery at which time the
helicopter rolled inverted, but remained afloat.
The helicopter was recovered, and on May 16,
2005 was examined by investigators from the Federal
Aviation Administration (FAA), American Eurocopter,
and Turbomeca USA. The engine was removed and
transported to Turbomeca USA for further examination.
Hughes 369D; Kihei, HI
May 16; No Injuries
On May 16, 2005, at 1145 HST, a Hughes 369D
helicopter, N611WA, made an autorotational landing
on a shoreline near Kihei, Hawaii. A partial loss of
engine power during cruise flight preceded the
autorotational landing. The airline transport helicopter
pilot and three passengers were not injured. The helicopter sustained substantial damage. The helicopter
was registered to, and operated by, WindWard
Aviation, Inc., Kahului, Hawaii, as a personal flight
under the provisions of 14 CFR Part 91. The local
flight departed Kahului 36 minutes prior to the accident.
According to the pilot, they were in cruise flight at
500 feet and 110 knots over McGregor Point on the
island of Maui when the engine began to "wind
down." The engine did not completely lose power, but
was not producing enough to maintain flight (the
engine out light illuminated and the low rotor rpm
horn sounded). The pilot elected to autorotate to the
shoreline near McGregor Point. After touching down
on a rock, which was partially submerged in water,
the helicopter slid aft and the tail rotor blades impacted the ground resulting in damage to the blades and
shearing of the tail rotor drive shaft.
-The Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) inspector, who responded to the accident site, found the fuel
nozzle filter partially blocked with a brown substance.
Closer examination of the fuel system revealed no
contamination of the fuel control unit filter, and no
contamination of the fuel pump filter. The fuel tank outlet line, however, contained a brown substance similar
to that found at the nozzle. Closer examination of the
fuel tank revealed areas of contamination near the
folds of the bladder.
The helicopter was fueled with contaminated fuel
on May 13, 2005. The fuel system was purged and
the helicopter operated for 1 hour 36 minutes prior to
the loss of engine power. The operator's mechanics
had replaced the fuel nozzle with a new fuel nozzle
on the morning of the accident. According to the FAA
inspector, the operator had complied with
Airworthiness Directive 2004-24-09.
Robinson R22 Beta; Provo, UT
May 23; 1 Minor Injury
On May 23, 2005, at 1210 MDT, a Robinson
R22 Beta, N553SH, operated by Silver State
Helicopters and flown by a student pilot and a commercial certificated flight instructor, was substantially
damaged during an uncontrolled descent and impact
with terrain near Provo, Utah. The flight instructor
said that they were practicing hovering and the student had control of the cyclic. The helicopter began
to drift right and the student input more right cyclic
control, and then released the controls when the low
rotor rpm warning sounded. The instructor attempted
to regain control of the aircraft but was unsuccessful
and the helicopter impacted terrain and rolled over.
Accident photographs revealed that the tail was
severed from the aircraft, the main rotor was bent and
separated from the engine, the rotor support torsionally buckled, the windscreen shattered and the external
skin was distorted.
Bell 47G-4A; Bakersfield, CA
May 25; 1 Serious Injury
On May 25, 2005, about 0800 PDT, a Bell 47G4A, N110DT, collided with power lines and crashed
in a cotton field while conducting aerial application
operations near Bakersfield, California. Inland Crop
Dusters, Inc., Carson City, Nevada, was operating the
local area agricultural flight under the provisions of
14 CFR Part 137. The commercial pilot, the sole occupant, sustained serious injuries; the helicopter was
destroyed. A witness to the accident reported that the
helicopter had just completed its first aerial application pass when it crashed. As the witness approached
the wreckage, he noticed power lines on the ground.
Robinson R44; Lucerne Valley, CA
May 28; 3 Serious Injuries
On May 28, 2005, about 1150 PDT, a Robinson
R44, N7015Q, impacted terrain while maneuvering
during low-level flight near Lucerne Valley, California.
The owner/pilot was operating the helicopter under
the provisions of 14 CFR Part 91. The private pilot, the
certified flight instructor (CFI), and one passenger
were seriously injured; the helicopter was destroyed
following a post impact fire. The local personal flight
departed Redlands, California, at an undetermined
time.
Witnesses observed the helicopter in the area, flying low level during a desert off road race. The helicopter crossed the racecourse on a southbound heading. Witnesses reported that shortly after crossing the
racecourse it appeared that the helicopter was
attempting to reverse course back towards the north.
The helicopter pitched nose down, and leveled off just
before it impacted into a dry streambed. Upon impact
the helicopter burst into flames. All three people on
board the helicopter sustained burns while exiting the
burning helicopter.
Investigators from the National Transportation
Safety Board and the Federal Aviation Administration
(FAA) examined the wreckage at the accident scene.
The first identified point of contact (FIPC) was a
ground scar adjacent to the main wreckage. The
main wreckage was contained within 50 feet of the
FIPC. The post impact fire completely consumed the
cabin area of the helicopter. The density altitude was
computed at 7,350 feet msl.
The helicopter was recovered from the accident
site and transported for further examination. The
Safety Board investigator-in-charge (IIC) examined
records indicating that the owner/pilot had purchased
the accident helicopter in March 2005. The pilot had
successfully completed his private pilot rotorcraft rating check ride on May 21, 2005.
END
21
Test pilot
Editor’s Note: T.O.P.S. is the Tour Operators’
Program of Safety, Inc. Its intention is to establish a voluntary set of safety standards for the
helicopter tour industry. T.O.P.S’ members support these guidelines. While many of our readers do not fly tours, it is interesting to take a
look at the guidelines T.O.P.S. has established
for tour operators. Take a shot at it, and let’s
see how you do.
4. Minimum pilot-in-command flight
qualifications include
8. All T.O.P.S. operated aircraft are
to be equipped with
A. ELTs
A. 500 PIC hours, helicopter
B. Alternating avoidance lights
B. 1000 PIC hours, helicopter
C. High-visibility rotor blades
C. 1000 PIC hours total, 500 helicopter
D. All of the above
5. Pilots are required to receive
additional training in the areas of
9. All T.O.P.S. flights must be
A. Settling with power, ground resonance,
dynamic rollover
B. Conducted by a pilot who has eaten
something within the last 4 hours
B. Minimum enroute altitude of five hundred
(500) feet AGL, except for ridgeline transitions
B. Preventive maintenance procedures
C. Conducted in VFR conditions
C. Angle of bank not more than thirty (30)
degrees
6. Technicians are required to be
A & P licensed mechanics with
at least
5. A
4. B
B. Competitive pricing rules
B. Passenger briefing, passenger escorting,
passenger loading and passenger seat
belt fastening
C. Passenger briefing, passenger escorting,
passenger loading and safe passenger
vomit removal
C. Procedures for handling reported violations
Tell us who you are in
Autorotate’s Member
Profile
Autorotate would like to profile
YOU in one of our next issues. All
we need is a good photograph of
you and your helicopter; your
name, e-mail address, and PHPA
member ID; and a brief write up
about you, your location, and your
photo. Send the information via
e-mail to Tony Fonze, the editor at
[email protected].
22
Answers
A. Routes, position reporting, noise and safety procedures
A. Passenger briefing, passenger escorting,
passenger loading and passenger weight
estimation
6. C
3. Air Tour Operators working in the
same area are encouraged to
hold regular meetings to coordinate
7. T.O.P.S.’ guidelines for flightline
personnel include
1. E.
B. False
7. B
A. True
C. 3 years of helicopter experience
B. False
8. D
2. All T.O.P.S. pilots have an instrument rating
B. 2 years of helicopter experience
A. True
9. A
E. All of the above
A. 1 year of helicopter experience
10. Documented accident reaction
procedures are required
2. B. False. T.O.P.S.
encourages all tour
pilots to have an
instrument rating.
D. Angle of pitch not more than ten (10)
degrees
C. How to encourage tips
10. A. True
A. Minimum visibility of one (1) mile
A. On a flight plan
3. A.
1. T.O.P.S.’ standards for tour flights
include