Posted: Tue Dec 04, 2007 5:23 am
by Tom
Here it is. The helicopter is an S-61, which is a larger version of an H-3. We were taking it to British Columbia for a 9,000 overhaul
Canada Trip -- November 2006
November 18, 2006
Andros, Bahamas to West Palm Beach, FL – 0821-1008 (1.8)
Mike, Jim, DW and I launched for the crossing to West Palm on schedule with a fully functioning 8AR. The crossing was made easier by the fact that Mike and I had returned 2AC from West Palm to Andros just a few weeks earlier. Essentially we just ran this leg in reverse. Also, Mike had flown across with Don when they staged 2AC for the flight to Canada last spring.
There were no surprises on the flight and we landed as planned at the Customs ramp at West Palm. Customs went smoothly, and our entering as a private aircraft did not seem to hamper the process. Customs did not come out to the aircraft and the entire clearance process took only a few minutes.
After refueling, we launched on what was to be the longest leg of our trip. DW stayed in West Palm and Rod joined us.
West Palm Beach, FL to Gainesville, FL – 1100- 1359 (3.0)
We were routed east from PBI, and instructed to follow the shoreline north. This didn’t fit with our desired track, so we cancelled flight following and proceeded direct GNV. Since all of my cross country time had, up until this trip, been IFR, and most of my long distance flights had been over open-ocean, I was not used to having so many obstructions in the flight path. Towers were everywhere, it seemed. Three things compounded this issue:
1. The birds were out in force, and were quite aggressive, requiring, in several instances, evasive maneuvers on our part to avoid them. This was a distraction from our tower spotting duties;
2. The towers on our charts were not where the charts indicated they were; and,
3. The GPS in 8AR was off by approximately one mile.
Gainesville, FL to Crestview, FL – 1457 ET-1612 CT (2.3)
As with all of our mid-day FBO stops, we were on deck at Gainesville less than an hour. With two exceptions (Beaumont, TX and Kingman, AZ), all of the FBOs we used, including Gainesville, offered prompt, friendly service and were able to meet all of our needs.
We proceeded along, or near, the Gulf Coast. At some point during this leg, we lost the roll channel, and never got it back, despite Jim’s best efforts. We arrived in Crestview late in the afternoon. The FBO fueled us, rented a car to us, and assisted us in finding a hotel. We stayed at a clean and comfortable Jameson Inn, next to I-10, and had dinner at Sonny’s Barbeque.
November 19, 2006
Crestview, FL to Baton Rouge, LA – 0815-1046 (2.5)
Our daily routine called for us to meet in the hotel lobby, with breakfast out of the way and ready to go, in time for us to arrive at the airport at 0700 and take off by 0800. Although weather and mechanical issues sometimes thwarted us, we generally got the most out of the limited daylight we had.
Our flight to Baton Rouge was uneventful, with the exception that the UHF radio died. Our layover there was typically brief.
Baton Rouge, LA to Beaumont, TX – 1133-1255 (1.4)
Our flight included a lot of traffic, including a couple of gliders. Beaumont, TX is not a recommended stop. They had no courtesy car, no rental car, no food, and we were concerned they would have no fuel (but they did). In order to eat, we would have had to call a cab to take us to a fast food restaurant. Future flights should avoid Beaumont, if at all possible.
Beaumont, TX to Austin, TX – 1336-1512 (1.6)
Throughout our trip we had great support from the ATC system. With the exception of a couple of Flight Service Stations that took exception to having to give us weather updates over the radio, everyone was very helpful. This was especially true of the towers, who helped accommodate our hulking girth so as not to damage lesser aircraft. Unlike fixed wing aircraft, helicopters must always negotiate the route and location of their approach and landing. The towers we dealt with were always willing and able to assist us.
Flying over Texas allows one to understand the meaning of “stark beauty.” We arrived in Austin and parked at Signature Flight Support. Signature has a beautiful facility there, and we were (as always) treated with the respect due an aircraft that was going to need 400 gallons of fuel.
We stayed at a very nice Fairfield Inn and ate at a Texas Land & Cattle Steakhouse.
November 20, 2006
Austin, TX to Midland, TX – 0844-1048 (2.1)
When we got to the airport, we discovered that the starboard landing gear had dumped all of its hydraulic fluid on the ramp. Jim and Rod pinned the gear down and we continued the trip with the gear down.
Enroute, we saw miles of oil derricks pumping away, as cattle grazed in the open nearby. It was somewhere over west Texas that the wet compass began to leak on my flight suit. Jim fixed it by removing it. He assured us he could reinstall it promptly if we missed it.
Midland had a very adequate FBO, with a decided cattleman and oilman theme. We had lunch at the airport cantina, then continued onward.
Midland, TX to Las Cruces, NM – 1158 CT – 1306 MT (2.1)
I believe it was at Midland that the Number 2 engine flamed out on start. It hit 19%, lit off, and shut down at around 50%. To fix this problem, we started the Number 1 engine first for the rest of the trip.
No unusual events occurred in flight, and the Las Cruces FBO was small but adequate.
Las Cruces, NM to Tucson, AZ – 1349-1530 (1.7)
Tucson is a major airport, with an excellent full service FBO, Atlantic Aviation Services. The FBO provided coffee, bottled water, and newspapers. The only thing they didn’t have were charts. These were sold at an airport operated pilot shop at the base of the tower. Unfortunately, they didn’t have a Los Angeles sectional. Nor did the local flight school. But I was certain we would have no trouble finding one at our next stop.
Flying into Tucson we had seen the boneyard at Davis Monthan AFB. While making arrangements at the FBO we saw a vintage jet fighter in a touch-and-go pattern, and then executing a full stop with a drogue chute. Someone at the FBO said it was probably flying in to enter the boneyard.
We stayed at a very nice Embassy Suites that night, and had dinner at a local Mexican restaurant.
November 21, 2006
Tucson, AZ to Kingman, AZ – 0800-0956 (1.9)
The Kingman FBO was very small. They had fuel, but no charts. We were going to fly onto the Los Angeles sectional on our next leg. Although we had the chart atlas in the aircraft, it was inconvenient and not current. I ended up going from pilot to pilot until I found one who would sell me the LA sectional for ten dollars.
It was at Kingman that the Number 2 starter circuit breaker blew (three times). Jim and Rod changed the starter, but that didn’t help. They then disconnected the start bleed valve (in the closed position), which did help. The Number 2 engine started and ran fine for the rest of the trip.
Kingman, AZ to Bakersfield, CA – 1137 MT – 1313PT (2.6)
The flight to Bakersfield was the most challenging up to that point. We had no trouble across the mountains, with our highest altitude being 9,000’ MSL. It got a bit bumpy, and the lack of roll channel and heading control kept the flying pilot busy, but the weather had been clear. As we cleared a ridge south of Bakersfield, the valley looked like a bowl of whipped cream. I deferred to Mike’s mountain and weather flying experience and, after finding a clear area along the rim of the valley, we found our way under and proceeded through three miles of visibility and three hundred foot ceilings. It felt good to land at Bakersfield, but the weather for the next few days didn’t look great.
We stayed at a very nice Doubletree, and had dinner at The Black Angus Steakhouse.
November 22, 2006
Bakersfield, CA to Stockton, CA – 1131-1320 (1.8)
I believe it was at this point in the trip that the BIM PRESS light came on at start. We shut the aircraft down and Jim and Rod checked each of the visual indicators. All operated within limits, so we decided to continue the flight. After just a few minutes in flight the light went out. We theorized that it was the lower temperatures that might be affecting the BIM’s electrical system. It continued to come on at start throughout the rest of the trip, but always went out after a few minutes in flight.
Bakersfield was foggy with a low overcast. We were just about to contact tower to request a Special VFR clearance when they turned off the beacon. We departed VFR and carefully made our way to Stockton. Towers were along the route in abundance, but there weren’t many other aircraft.
Stockton, CA to Redding, CA – 1358-1513 (1.3)
Stockton was our quickest turnaround yet. The weather improved somewhat over our inbound leg, making for a relatively uneventful trip to Redding. We parked next to a Carson S-61 Shortsky that was equipped for firefighting (ours is bigger than theirs). Redding is a beautiful, mountainous area. We stayed at a Hilton Garden Inn (very nice) and had dinner at Olive Garden.
November 23, 2006
Redding, CA to Medford, OR – 0816-1000 (1.7)
Our goal on this leg was Eugene, OR, but when we crossed the mountains north of Medford, we were met with yet another whipped cream-filled valley of no-go. Try as we may, we could not get under it, and Eugene was reporting solid ceilings at several levels. So it was back to Medford where we encountered perhaps the most helpful FBO yet – Medford Air Service Executive Flight Center. They had coffee, cookies, candy, popcorn, and a darkened pilots’ lounge with widescreen television and leather recliners. They gave us their crew van for overnight use (obviating the need to rent a car), and we checked into the Rogue Regency Inn.
Since it was Thanksgiving, Jim and Rod reconnoitered for restaurants and came up with five that were acceptable to them. We chose Elmer’s, a large, clean, well-lit, family style restaurant. We all chose the special: fresh roasted turkey, cranberry sauce, apple stuffing, mashed potatoes with gravy, sweet potato, mixed vegetables, and pumpkin pie for dessert. It was delicious.
November 24, 2006
Medford, OR to Salem, OR – 1340-1506 (1.4)
We lost about half a day at Medford waiting for the weather to improve to the north. The airfield happens to have a National Weather Service field station, so Mike and I went in for a very thorough brief from a local forecaster who not only knew his weather, but he also knew the local mountain flight tactics. The problem was that the lowest pass, Sexton, was reporting ceilings intermittently below 100 feet. As we waited for the weather to clear, a sheriff’s helicopter came in. The deputy told us that if we headed up to Sexton Pass and couldn’t see through it, not to go through because of power lines on the other side, but, in that case we could backtrack to Wolf Creek (by the railroad tracks), and follow that around. It would be low visibility, but there weren’t any obstructions there.
In the end, we waited until 1300, when we got a report that Roseburg, on the other side of the mountains, had broken ceilings and three to five miles visibility. We launched, hopped over the mountains VFR on top, then came through a broken layer and into three to five miles visibility, as forecast, in light fog and rain . We followed I-5 all the way to Salem, OR, at about 500 feet.
Salem had a very helpful FBO, Salem Air Center, who arranged for a rental car and directed us to the beautiful Phoenix Grand Hotel, downtown. We had a very good Mexican meal at La Margarita.
November 25, 2006
Salem, OR to Bellingham, WA – 0844-1055 (2.2)
Breakfast at the Phoenix Grand didn’t start until 0700, so we ate and then made our way to the airport. The weather along our route of flight was forecast marginal VFR with some IFR along the way. As we headed north, visibility was good at 2000 feet, but some of the valleys were socked in. After about 45 minutes we found an opening and ducked below the ceilings. We were able to fly at 500 to 800 feet AGL, but occasionally we had to drop to around 200 feet AGL to clear a ridge. There was quite a bit of traffic around, but Seattle was very helpful with flight following (when they could see us). We transited NAS Whidbey Island airspace and then landed at Bellingham.
Mike called Canadian customs, and they told us where to park on arrival. The arrival procedures for Vancouver are rather specific, but two different pilots at Bellingham assured us that if we told ATC we were unfamiliar with the area they would do whatever they needed to do to assist us.
Bellingham, WA to Vancouver, BC – 1243-1313 (0.5)
Our fellow pilots were right. Victoria Centre walked us through a Garry Point VFR approach, and tower cleared us to land at Spot Bravo. Unfortunately, Spot Bravo was built for a JetRanger, and was ringed with lights that protruded from the deck about two feet, so we asked for, and were granted, permission to land on the taxiway.
On shutdown, a very strange thing occurred. The standby gyro began to turn, then it went through inverted, continued back to upright, and then began spinning. Not turning. Spinning. Faster and faster it went, until it was a blur. None of us had seen anything like it. We turned it off and left it off.
Two polite young customs officers met us at the ramp adjacent to the customs building. They asked the usual questions, told us to wait, then left to get our entry paperwork. They were back in a few minutes. As we waited, we could see the snow approaching from the northwest. The most distant mountains were slowly disappearing in the whiteness.
Free to move about the country, we ran across the freezing ramp seeking the warmth of the distant FBO’s lounge. The entrance was, of course, at the farthest point from the aircraft. We quickly filed a flight plan, addressed the usual matters, and ran back to the plane. The snow was beginning to fall on the field.
Vancouver, BC to Langley, BC – 1353-1410 (0.3)
We climbed in the aircraft and cranked up. Mike was flying and I was on the radios. I called for a clearance to take off and depart to the east, and tower cleared us for a Cement departure. I advised tower that we were unfamiliar with the area, and tower advised me that the departure was on the back of the chart. I explained that, although we had the chart, all we really wanted to do was depart on a 090 heading. Tower advised that the Cement departure was a 100 heading so, if we followed the Cement departure, we should, when all was said and done, be fine. I Rogered the Cement departure and advised Mike that everything had been worked out, and we could lift and head east.
Mike seemed a bit skeptical of this whole Cement departure situation, but the snow was coming in faster and heavier, so he lifted and we headed east.
“So, Tom,” Mike said in a conversational tone, “you’re comfortable with this Cement departure thing?”
“Oh, yeah. Sure. I’m very comfortable with it.” I was pretending to look for traffic, so he couldn’t catch my eye.
“You know, the chart probably has a lot of the details …”
“8AR, Vancouver Tower. Numerous contacts in the area. Too numerous to advise individually. Do not exceed the departure altitude of 1,000 feet.”
“Roger,” I replied, as Mike began to climb from 800 to 1,000 feet. That was certainly easier than looking it up.
“Look,” I said. “There’s a cement plant. I’ll bet that’s where we’re supposed to fly. Only …,” I fumbled with the chart for a moment, “… I don’t think we’re supposed to fly right over it.”
“Let’s check with the tower,” Mike suggested.
I made the call. “Tower, 8AR. Can we proceed direct Langley now?”
“Roger, 8AR [did he sound weary?] you’re cleared direct Langley. Good day.”
I Good-day’d him back and we proceeded on course to Langley. The snow thickened quickly, but not as quickly as our resolve to complete the mission. We were following a major highway that led straight to the field. Aircraft were rushing past in the opposite direction to get into Vancouver while it was still VFR. Eleven o’clock, one o’clock, two o’clock. Oops! Twelve o’clock level! Mike dropped a hundred feet to get out of his way.
We had been in some low visibility during the trip, but I had resisted the urge to activate the landing lights. We had had so many nagging maintenance issues that I just didn’t want to tempt fate by utilizing non-critical systems. When I did have a suggestion regarding the use of a particular system, Mike always cheerfully accepted it, even when he felt it might not be necessary. For example, over Oregon I was concerned about visibility through the rain, so I suggested we turn on the windshield wipers. Mike said that if I felt that was a good idea, go ahead. I turned them on, they made one sweep, and stuck on the outboard stroke.
So, when I suggested we use the landing lights, Mike agreed. We then had a brief meeting to determine exactly how to turn them on (our company does not fly at night). We pushed all switches that could reasonably be expected to turn them on, but we just weren’t making it happen. Finally, Jim came forward to assist us. He said that the collectives would light up when they were on. We didn’t quite understand what he meant until he actually turned them on and darned if those black switches don’t actually light up. They give off a warm orange glow. Interesting.
We finally sighted Langley in the distance. (Actually, it was less than three miles away when we saw it.) I got clearance to land and Mike put it down on the pad nearest ACRO, as cleared. We taxied to the ACRO ramp, shut it down, and shook hands all around. It was a very satisfying feeling to have brought 8AR this far. We had all worked hard at getting her here, and she had returned the favor by hanging with us. After all, when something had broken, it had been on her airframe, not ours. When all was said and done, it was actually 8AR who had gotten us here, not the other way around.
Epilogue
I sat in my room at the Hilton near Vancouver International Airport. It was a corner room, with glass along two walls. I watched the blizzard swirl around the city, making the street lights, headlights and building lights twinkle and dim. We had made it with just hours to spare. The storm I was watching would have shut us down for days. As in all things in life, timing is everything.
Lessons Learned
We learned many valuable lessons on this trip, and I have tried to weave them into the above narrative. Some of the more important ones follow.
- This was my first exposure to mountain flying and weather flying, and we did plenty of both. It was fascinating and required a very different set of skills from our typical flight profile at home base. Mike taught me a lot, and his experience was greatly appreciated.
- I now better understand the subjectivity of checklists. When we wanted to lift from our parking spot, the checklist didn’t exactly flow in that direction. I suggest that we develop a separate “Lift From Present Position” checklist that we could use on cross country flights.
- I learned a lot from landing at unfamiliar fields, especially large ones. We interpreted the airport diagrams as best we could, but when it came right down to it, we always had to be prepared for things to happen fast. We did note that the towers were always helpful in getting us on deck, close to where we wanted to be, safely.
- I now realize that not every chart (even a Los Angeles sectional) is available at every airport.
- The three volume Flight Guide series is the coolest aid to VFR navigation in the free world. It has airport diagrams, frequencies, FBO locations, and every telephone number you could possibly need to RON.
- The S-61 is a two pilot aircraft for a reason. I was impressed with the workload of the Pilot Not Flying. With few exceptions, whoever was PNF on any given leg was continually plotting GPS fixes on the chart. In some cases, we couldn’t push the buttons fast enough to keep our position updated to our satisfaction. I believe the PNF had the highest workload of the two pilots, even taking into consideration that the Pilot Flying didn’t have a roll channel.
Posted: Sun Jan 27, 2008 10:24 am
by SunHelo Paul
Tom wrote:Well, tell us about your most interesting flight in a Shorts 360.
"There I was..."
I was departing Augusta, GA with a heavy load of new car components for Detroit. My First Officer was a forty-ish, short and stocky, devoutly religious Muslim former Libyan Air Force pilot. I used to have to explain to the line boys why he was on his knees kissing the ground after a flight
Accelerating after rotation, I found it increasingly difficult pull or trim back pressure on the yoke. With the gear and flaps up, it became nearly impossible to keep the nose any higher than level flight. I couldn't climb at all and the aircraft seemed determined to become a king-sized lawn dart.
I declared an emergency and told the tower I was going to try and bring it back around to land on the airport and to roll the trucks.
It was taking all the strength I had and then some to try to keep the airplane up to 400-500 feet. I unbuckled my harness, refastened it around the control column and told my FO to help me pull back pressure. With both of us pulling, he with his feet braced on the panel, we gained an inch or so of aft travel and I tightened the belt around the column to help hold it.
I finally managed to get turned around 180 degrees back toward the airport but this bucking, firebreathing monster was so committed to trying to kill us that I was doubtful I could fly a full pattern and get back onto the runway I'd just left. So I told the tower I'd try to put it on the crosswind runway which was closer and only required a sweeping 90 degree right turn to line up.
I lined up and called for gear and approach flaps, which, because the Shorts is high-winged, actually gives a little nose-up pitch moment, helping to maintain something resembling level flight attitude. Any more flaps would pitch us nose down and abruptly end the flight short of the runway.
I landed on the runway nose wheel first and struggled, bounding and porpoising for the full length of the runway before getting it stopped but we made it.
I taxied off the runway to the nearest parking spot, shut it down and got out. I spent some time quaking before my hands stopped shaking too bad to dial a telephone and tell the boss we weren't going to Detroit after all.
The problem, apparently, was that the elevator trim cable had parted, wrapped around the servo pulley and became jammed in the full nose-down position.
The tendon on the inside of my right elbow still gives me some pain to this day from trying to hold a thirteen ton aircraft up with brute strength. It was the only time in thirty plus years of professional flying when I was utterly convinced that I was about to die in an aircraft.
I think in total the trip took about 21 hours of which I logged about half. Not too bad and I even got paid for it too. 