THE VINTAGE INSTRUCTOR
Resignation DOUG STEWART “Your engine has just quit!” I announced to the pilot sitting to my left, as I reached to the throttle of the T-tailed Arrow we were flying, and pulled it back to idle. The pilot was a client who was working on his commercial certificate. I sat calmly in my seat as the pilot went through the appropriate checks. Establishing best glide speed, he turned to head towards the key point of the traffic pattern we were near. He then switched tanks, turned on the electric fuel pump, pushed the mixture control to full rich, and put on the alternate air. Arriving over the key point he then pushed the propeller control to flat pitch and entered a steep spiral. About 1,000 feet above the airport he broke off the spiral and continued downwind. So far, so good. Everything was looking great; we should be able to land right on the second centerline without any problem. But as we turned to the base leg, it became obvious that the wind was blowing a little harder than the pilot thought, yet he did nothing to modify his track. Rather than angling towards the runway, he continued in a perfect perpendicular track to the centerline. With an engine running this would only require a little more power on final, but we were simulating an engine failure. Shortly before turning final the pilot selected gear down, and as the gear came down and three big holes in the form of wheel wells appeared at the bottom of the airplane, the drag and associated increased sink were going to make things interesting. I prudently cleared the engine . . . just in case. The combination of head wind and high sink rate made making the runway uncertain. The pilot allowed the Arrow to drift to the right to avoid the spruce trees that were now blocking our way to the runway threshold. With about one hundred yards to go the pilot an26
JUNE 2004
nounced: “Well, I guess we would’ve crashed” as he reached to apply full power, and go around. At this point I pushed his hand away from the throttle, pulled the propeller control all the way back, and then reached to the flap lever and applied all three notches of flaps. The airplane rose into the air about 20 feet (from the application of flaps) while leaping forward simultaneously towards the runway (from pulling the prop control to full coarse pitch). We landed on the runway, and although we didn’t land on the second centerline, we at least cleared the displaced threshold. What I had just witnessed was the hazardous attitude of resignation. The pilot had done a commendable job of dealing with the simulated engine failure until he broke off the steep spiral. At that point he forgot to account for the wind and for the increased drag of the gear coming down, and as he turned final, realizing his mistake, he gave up. He stopped flying the airplane. I cannot help but wonder how many accidents occur in just such a manner, or worse how many accidents result in fatalities because the pilot resigned him/herself to fate? I question how many pilots fail to apply the antidote of “I’m not helpless . . . I can make a difference” when confronted with the attitude of resignation? I know that many pilots, if not all of us, would tell ourselves (and any others who might listen) that we would keep flying the airplane in an emergency until there was nothing left but a smoking hole. But the specter of speculation rises in my brain; for I have seen pilots who have made such declarations exhibit resignation on almost every flight they make. How many pilots revert to resignation whenever they have to land? They get within a few feet of the runway and
then resign themselves to the outcome. As long as they can walk away and still use the airplane they consider it a great landing. To my observation they certainly stopped flying the airplane when they got close to the runway. At that point resignation took over and they were content with the outcome as long as the aircraft remained on the runway and didn’t get damaged. There are three steps to be taken in dealing with hazardous attitudes. The first step is to recognize that you have the attitude in the first place. The second step is to learn the antidote to the attitude. The third, and most difficult step is to apply the antidote. Whereas most of us might very well “keep flying the airplane” until there is nothing left but a smoking hole, it becomes a little more difficult to “make a difference” when you’ve come down final a little too hot. Now as you float down the runway, slowly drifting to one side because of the crosswind, do not resign yourself to a sloppy landing. Keep flying! Get the windward wing down; kick in a little opposite rudder. Land on the windward main, then the leeward main. Or better yet, GO AROUND and be on target and on speed on the next approach. Make a difference! Hazardous attitudes are an insidious danger. They are difficult to recognize in the first place, and it is even harder, at times, to apply the proper antidote. Doing so will go a long way in helping us make the transition from being just good pilots . . . to being GREAT pilots. I hope you are making the effort. I know I am. Doug flies a 1947 PA-12. He is the 2004 National Certificated Flight Instructor of the Year. Visit his website: www.dsflight.com.