Learning From The Instructors

As I reminisce, it seems that a lot had been added to my collection of flying techniques since the day I had my first lesson. Yet I find that the most critical and useful techniques were actually taught me during the first fifty hours of flying. For this I have my instructors to thank for. I was lucky to have had two highly competent individuals as my mentors.

The first was Manjit. He was a tall handsome young man who was collecting his hours before he could join the airlines. He was methodical in presenting his preflight brief and would ask me quick questions on the aircraft as we walked to it, inside it and later as we walked back for our debriefs. Questions could vary from how much fuel could the tanks take to why the wings wash out at the tips. In the air he would ask if the engine would cut out if he switched off the ignition, and then as I said yes, proceeded to actually switch it off. Manjit led me to my solo by which time I had the answers to most, if not all, the questions.

After soloing, another instructor took over my training. Chandran was a QFI (Qualified Flying Instructor) and was quite elderly with an above average girth. He was soft-spoken and a man of few words. If he ever raised his voice, it would be a scream to get me to add power when we were sinking too fast or to go around when we were too high or in such similar situations.

Like Manjit did, Chandran too made me master the mnemonics which remain with me till today. From HASELL to TVMDC, the mnemonics will never be forgotten and have been found to be useful in times of need.

Chandran had these tricks and formulae to make complex procedures simple. With short and sharp instructions, he would guide me as to what the requirements are for, say, a good approach. "Before base speed 80kts, flaps one, speed 70kts, turn base and descend....turn to final to complete by 300ft AGL, flaps two...speed 65kts, descent rate 200fpm..." and on he went. Most of the time his formulae worked and I lived by them.

One of my favourite destinations was Tioman Island less than two hours flying time away from my base. Although exotic in itself (the island “Bali Hai” in the musical movie “South Pacific” is in real life that island), the attraction to pilots is because its 900-metre runway is enclosed on three sides by steep hill slopes and the fourth side by the sea.

APPROACHING FROM THE WEST

Only pilots checked out on the airport by an instructor are allowed to land there. Chandran had a simple formula for landing there – establish right base at 300ft AGL on feet dry, cling close to the hill on the left while descending, turn final and select full flaps while skimming the grove of coconut palms that stretch to the runway’s edge, then when clear of the palms, cut power completely, push the aircraft down to the runway and ensure that it drops on its main wheels carrier-style. “Don’t worry,” he said, “the Cessna’s main undercarriage is made for heavy landings.”  In later years, the runway was lengthened and the palms on the approach cleared away.

CHANDRAN'S FORMULA

(AFTER RUNWAY EXTENSION)

EARLY BASE VIEW

(BEFORE RUNWAY EXTENSION)

Wikipedia

I have never had any problem landing at the island despite tailwinds sometimes and I owe one to Chandran. As I continued flying over the years, Manjit’s and Chandran’s words constantly echoed in my head guiding me to do the right things as the situations demanded.

Crosswind Landings and A Surprise 35-knot Headwind

WEATHER

Malaysia is considered a mild climate country as there is no extreme temperature. Most of the time it lies between 28C to 33C in the afternoon with a drop of about 3C in the early morning in the lowlands where most people live. Similarly winds in Malaysia rarely reach above 20 knots, so pilots generally have little experience in handling strong crosswinds during landing. For mild crosswinds, some training in crabbing and sideslipping techniques for landing is usually made mandatory  .

LANDING TECHNIQUES

In the former, the nose of the aircraft is deliberately pointed at an angle into the wind to counteract the otherwise sideways drift leewards. So, instead of pointing straight towards the runway, the aircraft is "crabbed" towards it. Moments before the wheels touch the runway, the nose is swung back to align with the centreline on the runway so that the wheels will roll forward as normal and not be dragged sideways causing the aircraft to skip or even topple on its side.

The latter technique involves lowering the windward wing while keeping the nose pointed straight towards the runway. The resulting sideways lift of the wings will counteract the otherwise leeward drift. The disadvantage of this technique is that the plane will sink faster towards the ground as the wings' vertical lift is now reduced by its sideways component which was created by banking the wings windward. The advantage of this technique, however, is that one can come in higher than normal and still be able to land on the threshold (a spot just after the edge of the runway marked with white stripes nicknamed "piano keys").

I have occasionally used both techniques over the course of my flying years but there was one instance when I could not use them and had to quickly devise my own technique. This was because this time the wind was coming from the front at about a 15-degree tangence  but the wind speed was 35 knots!

THUNDERSTORM

Here is how it all started. It was a bright day and I thought I would put in a half-hour to one-hour flight within the training area called R218. This area is a reasonably wide corridor that lies roughly between Kajang (2 minutes away from Sempang, our home airfield) and Semenyih. It has an upper limit of 2,500 feet and is used for training purposes as well as a transit lane for flights to and from the south. I scanned the sky before preflighting the aircraft and noted some rain clouds in the distance over Subang 6 miles away. They did not look threatening at all.

After obtaining Air Traffic Control (ATC) clearances, I took off and practised some manoeuvres within the training area. After about 30 minutes, ATC radioed me that the weather was closing in on the airfield and I was advised to return to base. As I neared Bukit Besi overlooking the airfield, there was a huge dark cloud hanging right on top of the runway and ATC advised that I was cleared to land with the surface wind indicating 200 degrees at 35 knots. Never had I heard such a strong wind from any ATC before but I believed it because that huge cumulonimbus cloud had a base at only around 2,000 feet. I could see the trees around the airfield swaying wildly. ATC then came on with a polite question "Do you need any assistance?" which they always say when they think a pilot or an aircraft might be in trouble.

LANDING

I assessed the situation as I turned right to join downwind at 1,000 feet for a left-handed pattern for Runway 22. With the wind almost head on at 35 knots and my normal final approach speed at 60 knots, my airspeed would show 95 knots when I touch down but the ground speed would be just 60 knots. This could not be the usual landing using flaps anymore as the flap limiting speed is only 80 knots and an airspeed of 95 knots might just rip them off. A flapless approach at an airspeed of 105 knots (normal flapless approach is at 70 knots) would just do the job, so I told ATC "Final, no flaps" which he acknowledged. By that time the sky had opened up and heavy rain was pouring on the aircraft and the airfield. It was a totally new experience for me to see the Airspeed Indicator (ASI) showing more than 100 knots as I touched down smoothly without flaps. All my previous no-flap landings over the years had not more than 70 knots or thereabouts on the ASI, so it was hard to believe that I was doing what I did as I descended the last 300 feet onto the runway and rolled out. The arithmetic has once again been proven - 105 knots on the ASI with a 35-knot headwind is equal to a 70-knot landing.

PARKING IN THE WATER

I thanked the ATC as I taxied into the ramp and stopped the aircraft. Another problem had however just cropped up. There was no umbrella in the plane and there was no way I could run into the hangar without getting drenched to the skin. So I waited it out in the cockpit for about half an hour before the rain finally eased. By then the aircraft's wheels were totally submerged in water. I removed my shoes and socks, rolled up my pant legs and waded to the hangar. So much for the Malaysian weather, a short flight in a bright sky can turn into a freaking thunderstorm and flooding in less than 45 minutes.