Tag-Archive for » situational awareness «

Even hundreds of miles away, a storm can give you a bad day

With Air France 447′s experience in heavy weather front of mind, it’s important to recall that aircraft at cruise altitudes are not normally put in peril by a storm front along their route of travel.  They tend to be most dangerous to aircraft that are in the takeoff or landing phase, when the aircraft are travelling the slowest and aircrews have the greatest amount of workload.  An Air Force C-130 narrowly avoided a Colgan 3407-like stall on approach through quick recognition and fast action by the aircrew.

“We were on our initial approach into Al Asad,” said Capt. Andrew Gillis, a 737th EAS C-130 aircraft commander and native of San Jose, Calif. “We were the third aircraft to go in. No one else reported any issues. In the middle of our approach, it started getting real rocky, and our air speed indicator ended up bouncing up and down plus or minus 20 knots.”

Falling back on countless hours of training and simulations, Captain Gillis advanced the throttles to max power to break off the descent and go around again. There was only one problem.

We had absolutely max power from the airplane,” Captain Gillis said. “There’s a specific escape maneuver, and we were in the process of doing that maneuver, but the airplane was still sinking.


– Staff Sgt. Thomas J. Doscher.  “Quick recognition, action saves C-130 aircrew, soldiers“, 386th Air Expeditionary Wing Public Affairs, June 3rd, 2009.

Ouch.  Throttles firewalled at 1,800 feet AGL, and still going down; not a good situation to be in.  What is really remarkable is that between problem detection and problem resolution, the aircraft lost just 800 feet of altitude despite being in a remarkably perilous situation for over seven miles. And 1800 feet is not a lot of room to play with when we’re talking about a stall or high sink rate situation.  It is a good thing the crew diagnosed the situation so rapidly and took corrective action.

Even more interesting, the high winds they encountered were actually caused by a large storm front several hundred miles away.

With the winds making a safe landing impossible, the crew headed for home, enduring another 30 minutes of intense turbulence. 1st Lt. Jeff Stanek, the aircraft’s navigator, said the wind shear and turbulence were caused by a massive storm front hundreds of miles away.

“There was a huge storm front the size of California that moved over Turkey,” said the native of Marlboro, Md. “And it moved faster than anticipated. We were clear of the actual storm, but the gust front in front of the storm is what we hit.”

Bravo zulu to the whole aircrew; you guys saved 45 passengers (as well as yourselves).

Colgan Air 3407

There has been some good blog coverage of the Colgan 3407 accident lately.  For a perspective on the Catch-22 finances and schedules that the regional airlines (and their pilots) find themselves in, read Aviation Mentor‘s terrific post.  For an in-depth examination of the FDR (flight data recorder) and CVR (cockpit voice recorder) data, see Blogging at FL250.  Probably the best overall description of the events leading up to the fatal crash, far better than anything you will find in bowdlerised media accounts, whether print, web or television.

It’s hard to know what to make of this incident, as the accounts you get in the media inevitably focus on the sensational (CVR, shrieking final moments, etc) as opposed to the instructive (FDR).  What has become apparent out of the data is that the aircraft didn’t suffer a tailplane stall so much as an ordinary (wing) stall, something pilots all over the world are taught to recover from by pushing the nose down and increasing the throttle.  Yet the captain of Colgan 3407 did the opposite, and it’s not entirely clear why.  Media accounts paint him as inexperienced at best, and at worst they hint at several failed checkrides and come nigh to declaring him incompetent.

My own sense is that one doesn’t get past a PPL, instrument rating, night rating, commercial rating, multi-engine rating, ATP, type rating, several FO checkrides and captain checkrides by being an incompetent boob.  It strains credulity.  Which is not to say that pilots can’t occasionally be stupid, but they are not habitually stupid.  So how to explain pulling up on the yoke when standard stall recovery is to push the yoke forward?  A panic reaction?  Or did the captain mistakenly believe they were experiencing a tailplane stall (whose recovery procedure is to pull up), only to belatedly realise that it was a wing stall—but by that time, all manoeuvring altitude had run out.

The “how” is readily apparent from the FDR, but it’s hard to answer the “why” without having the aircrew able to answer for themselves.

UPDATE:  Sam at Blogging at FL250 cranks out another home run with his latest post.  In it, he unlocks the mystery of why the captain might have acted contrary to standard to stall recovery procedures.  The short version is that the Practical Test Standards for the ATP rating do not require realistic simulation of an approach or takeoff stall, where the aircrew is distracted.  This allows airlines to condition their pilots to “ride the shaker”, maintaining attitude and altitude during the stall, waiting for power to wrestle the airplane back up to a safe airspeed.  The practical outcome is that the aircraft remains in a stall longer than necessary, and when you’ve got relatively little altitude to play with—on takeoff or approach—that may have dire consequences.

Like one of his commenters says, if he’s not in the training department at his local airline, he ought to be.

Intuition, a little too late

In media accounts of the Colgan 3407 cockpit voice recording, there is this little snippet that is both tragic and ironic:

Seven minutes later, [Captain Marvin] Renslow complained of the ice that was forming on the plane’s windshield and wings.

“That’s the most I’ve seen … most ice I’ve seen on the leading edges in a long time,” Renslow said.

A moment later, the co-pilot, Rebecca Lynn Shaw, complained of her own inexperience.

“I’ve never seen icing conditions,” she said. “I’ve never de-iced. I’ve never seen any. I’ve never experienced any of that. I don’t want to have to experience that and make those kinds of calls. You know I’d ‘ve freaked out. I’d have like seen this much ice and thought oh my gosh we were going to crash.”

Moments later, the crew lowered the plane’s flaps and landing gear, and the plane quickly encountered trouble.

– Jerry Zremski.  ” Pilot: ‘Most icing I’ve seen’; Co-pilot: ‘I’ve never de-iced.’ “, Buffalo News, May 12th, 2009.

Maybe sometimes it’s best to go with your gut reaction.

A Cautionary Tale

While reading some of the updated news about Colgan Air 3407, I was reminded of a harrowing incident recounted on an aviation blog.  I include it here not as prognostication on what happened to Colgan 3407, but as a reminder that when flying into inclement weather, it is critical that the aircrew work together professionally and keep flight safety front of mind at all times.

runny_vortilons[The captain] has spoken to the boss, and they have decided that we will continue on and get back to our base. That means at least 1.5 hours in the ice, instead of the 30 min we have just completed. I am not happy about this, and we get into a screaming match in front of everyone. Classy. Eventually I give in and get into the plane. Though I am NOT happy about it. It is my leg to fly, but I refuse, stating that since my input was not required while making the decision to do this leg, I will not fly. I am a passenger. What else can I do, besides stay there, alone, cold, with no where to go.

We take off.

We start picking up ice.

Lots of ice.

We change altitude.

Still more ice.

We are now unable to maintain altitude.

Descend.

The captain comments that it ‘doesnt’ look as bad as the last leg’. I point out that we have an ever lower airspeed that before, and are using a higher power setting on the engines. In fact, we are at max power.

We are now drifting down towards the ground, the windshield caked in ice so bad we can barely see out. The ice on the wings extends back a foot and a half back from the boots. I feel ill imagining what the tail is looking like. We are inching closer and closer to a tail stall, I can just feel it.

– Anonymous pilot, “The Night of Ice“, Sulako’s Blog, April 8th, 2008.

Read the whole thing.  That particular aircrew is lucky to be alive.

Image “Runny Vortilons” from Fiveholer’s Flickr stream.

RELATED: Neptunus Lex presciently points to a 1998 NASA video describing the tailplane icing phenomenon.