Different But The Same
FIRST FLIGHTS AS A COMMERCIALLY CERTIFICATED PILOT
Recently, I logged a couple of cross-country flights as a newly certificated commercial, single engine land airplane pilot. Although I was in a very familiar airplane with passengers I have flown many times before, flying for hire felt different, and I can’t quite put my finger on why. Perhaps it was a sense of accomplishment, a feeling of being a better pilot than I was before, an unexplained higher call of duty to my passengers, ATC, and other pilots, or simply getting paid for something I love to do anyway. I don’t know, but it felt new.
Despite the different feeling, the flights were very much the same as every other flight prior. The harsh truth is that no matter how much I learn or how many certificates and ratings I achieve, there is always more to learn; and it is humbling.
I get to fly with a lot of experienced, exceptional pilots and all have different styles. However, they each do one thing the same; they plan for the best and expect the worst. Preparing for a cross country flight requires forecasting weather, having an emergency plan, considering routes, airspace, restricted areas, knowing frequencies, airport elevations, pattern altitudes, weight and balance math, and briefing possible approach and departure procedures and understanding the many intricate systems of the airplane and how they interact with each other.
Uneventful flights have a downside though; I almost never learn anything new from them. It is a weird paradox; I don’t want anything to go wrong or off script, but when it does, I become a better pilot. Regardless of planning, knowledge, or skill, many of the variables of flying an airplane are outside of the pilot’s control despite every effort to manage each little detail. Unexpected things are going to happen, and the challenge is always how will I react to those things, make the best decisions, and learn from them. Variables and unexpected events in aviation, or in life for that matter, are opportunities for learning and should be embraced as uncomfortable as they may seem.
KOFP – Hanover County VA to KTLH – Tallahassee, FL
My middle kid was invited to a football QB prospect camp at Randolph Macon College in Ashland, Virginia, about 20 miles north of Richmond. We flew from Tallahassee to the Hanover County Airport at 9000 feet. The weather was VFR beautiful the entire way, we had a tailwind and after a nearly 600 nm flight, made only one turn to clear the Charlotte airspace. The flight could not have worked out better or easier, but I didn’t learn much except that F16s can climb fast, really fast. The single, most notable highlight of this leg was an ATC traffic alert, one I had never heard before: “November Three Zero Seven Charlie Delta, traffic, flight of two F16s at your 12 o’clock, opposite direction, 4000 feet and climbing”. I could hardly contain my excitement; after collecting myself, I responded to the controller with the usual, “looking for traffic”, as I habitually turned on additional anti-collision lights. What I relayed over the radio was not what I was ignorantly thinking; “I am 5000 ft above them, why is the controller telling me this?” No joke, seconds later, two F16s were off my right wing absolutely screaming and yes, I felt like an idiot.
The Hanover County airport, while small with one runway and un-towered, has a nice FBO called HOVA with helpful people, a Cirrus certified maintenance shop, and what appears to be a vibrant flight school. After we tied down the airplane and gave the FBO our fuel instructions (to the tabs plus 10 gallons a side), we overnighted in Ashland.
We arrived back at the airport two mornings later for our return trip, pre-flighted the airplane, which included a visual inspection of the fuel levels. Everything checked out, so we departed VFR, picked up our IFR clearance in the air, and were underway for the 3 hr 45 min flight home.
For some unknown reason, we starting talking about the fuel bill; we took on 40 gals in Hanover. After some discussion and quick calculations, we thought that number seemed low. The airplane holds 81 gallons usable, and our analog fuel gauge indicators, which rely on floats in the tanks, showed plenty of fuel for the return trip including minimum requirements. We all know how those gauges perform though; you don’t bet your life on them. Anyway, we continued to work through the math, calculating the fuel used on the trip up, plus the fuel we took on board, and still considering the analog gauges. We felt pretty sure that we took on the fuel we asked for in Hanover and had plenty to get home. Complicating things a little were storms developing west of our destination and trying to beat them home.
We continued to fly south, but my mind was pre-occupied with the fuel. The brain can play funny tricks on you while up there. I kept thinking of only one thing, accidents or forced landings, which are induced by fuel shortages, compounding mistakes and this must be how they happen. At that moment, I made a decision that I didn’t want to be one of those stories based on my being “pretty sure”.
I got on the radio and told the center controller that I wanted to change my destination, a diversion to Augusta, GA, about 30 miles away for a full-stop landing. He naturally wanted to know why and became concerned for us, which is truly comforting. I explained that we were fine, and this request was precautionary only. He took care of us immediately, we had a new heading and altitude enroute for Augusta.
We landed in Augusta without event. On the ground, we gawked at some pretty jets, took a potty break, freshened our coffee, and got a visit from the AVGAS truck. As it turns out, we were indeed given the correct amount of fuel in Hanover and had plenty to get home as originally planned. This decision cost us 45 mins, but the peace of mind and experience gained was priceless.
We took back off, encountered a little weather, shot the ILS 27 approach into Tallahassee, and landed safely.
Most of my flights are 300 nm or less; the airplane is usually light, and we have enough fuel to fly for hours. The lesson I learned from this flight is when heavy, on a long cross-country, concerned with landing and take off distances and runway lengths, be absolutely sure that the line folks comply with your fuel requests by staying with the airplane until the fuel is on board. Information can easily be lost in translation unless you are present to verify.
KTLH to KPBI journal post up next. Topics include digital ATIS, altitudes on an IFR flight plan, clearance delivery, and the mercurial nature of departure procedures.