Photo by PHA James R. Evans. Modified.
90 Days To Contemplate By LCdr. Thad Johnson
y the time I came on the controls, the collective was coming to the stop. The helicopter was leveling out, but we were descending too fast to prevent hitting the runway. The sideward drift (that I had not picked up) caused the mainmount to depart, directly exposing the skin, as well as numerous antennae and other fragile components to the concrete. We bounced back into a hover, and I jammed left pedal to arrest the rightward spin that was developing because of the large amount of torque we had pulled in the recovery. We settled out and were flying again. It would be another hour and forty minutes to coordinate and affect a safe landing with a missing mainmount. How had we gone from practicing autorotations in our SH-60B to becoming the mishap crew of a Class Bravo? An aircraft mishap board would convene to determine just that, and I would have a 90-day FNAEB process during which to contemplate what had happened. 30
It didn’t take long for me to realize one of my biggest failures. I was on the way to the hospital for blood work, a mandatory long form, and interviews that evening, when it hit me: I was the aircraft commander, and I had stopped training. I believe most of the failures in mission planning and CRM, which were cited later, stemmed from this fact. During my copilot’s autorotations, I was uncomfortable because of the late, nose-high attitude he used to arrest groundspeed on each one. I took the controls from him on the first one and put my hands on the controls at least two other times. I felt a little foolish for taking the controls the first time and voiced as much because we recovered somewhat high. I talked with him about different ways of flaring and asked if anyone had told him his flare was aggressive. My comments were perceived only as academic discussion. At no point did I communicate my discomfort or take on a directive or instructional approach. I was Approach
