Ferrying a TBM 910 across the pond

By FRANZ EDSON

“You have got to be kidding me!”

That was my response when I was asked if I wanted to ride along to ferry a brand new TBM 910 from the factory in Tarbes, France, to Groton, Connecticut.

I won’t get into the details of how this came about, but it was a combination of schedules, serendipity, and blind luck!

The Daher TBM 910 is a six-passenger turboprop, 330 knots with a ceiling of 31,000′. Under normal cruising speeds, its range exceeds 1,400 nm. This plane is the real deal. I was obviously looking forward to this flight, as almost all of my 1,500 hours of experience have been in a 1970 V35B Bonanza.

Two weeks later, I was in Tarbes. I was graciously offered a factory tour the day before our departure. What a great experience. Daher has all sorts of aviation work going on in its state-of-the-art factory and associated facilities.

I was also afforded an overview and tutorial of the Garmin 1000 system by the company’s technical support representative. This was extremely useful to me, as I am still flying behind round gauges in my Bonanza.

I even had lunch with some of their senior management folks. Their passion and dedication to aviation is evident and they are also very conscious and proud of their aviation heritage. For example, they are providing space and technical expertise to local volunteers building an exact replica of a Morane-Saulnier Type L, which was the first armed fighter in World War I.

The next morning, I met the well-known ferry pilot, Margrit Waltz. She has made this trip almost 900 times and has also done several ferry flights across the Pacific. After introductions, filling out the obligatory paperwork, and saying goodbye (as I was to find out, everyone knows Margrit), she asked me if I wanted the left seat!

The TBM 910 has a pilot side door in addition to the very large airstair door so I entered the front office in style.

Margrit then walked me through the starting sequence. Once the Garmin G1000Nxi is fired up, it’s basically hit the starter momentarily. When NG (percent of compressor flow) gets to 13%, lift the single level power quadrant up and over the stop to idle, then at 52% NG, move the power quadrant forward and to the left to high idle as the engine really starts to spool up. And oh, what a sound that turboprop makes! 

There are all sorts of systems in this plane to facilitate single pilot operations. For example, once your flight plan is loaded, the cabin pressurization/depressurization schedule is set. No need to set the altitude of your arrival airport. The inertial separator (needed to keep ice out of the turbine when in icing conditions) engages automatically when ice is detected. 

Relatively speaking, operating this plane is not nearly as difficult as you would think.

And everything about this plane says quality. The switches move smoothly but firmly, all the controls are direct, and the seat heaters (yes!) heat up quickly and efficiently.

As we taxied out, I was admonished to not use the brakes, low Beta (reverse thrust) was all that was needed to control speed. The takeoff roll came and went in a heartbeat. Throttle almost all the way forward (about 90% torque), hold the centerline, and I already blew through rotation speed!

This plane is so fast and smooth that you really must recalibrate your visual cues, as the normal cues aren’t appropriate anymore. So off we went, follow the flight director, and set the heading bug and altitude pre-selects in accordance with ATC.

After a step climb to 28,000′, I reluctantly set the autopilot (this plane is a blast to hand fly) and started admiring the view from our perch on top of the world. Once at 28,000′, we were trueing out at 314 knots, burning about 60 GPH with an OAT of -45C. As was to be the case with most of the flight, we had a crosswind of over 100 knots.

After about three hours, we landed at our first stop, Glasgow, Scotland.  There, we picked up the life raft and survival suits Margrit had dropped off after a previous West to East crossing. At each of our stops, she spent a lot of time looking at weather, filing for our next flight, and handling the many small issues that arise on a transatlantic flight.

The weather at our next stop, Keflavik, Iceland, didn’t look good — high winds, rain, and low ceilings. Margrit again offered me the left seat, but said she wanted to take the landing. After loading up the plane, we were off again and this time, I managed to get the plane aloft at the proper speed.

As we neared the end of a roughly two hour flight, it was clear the weather hadn’t improved. As a result, I got to watch an incredible display of airmanship by Margrit as she landed in very difficult conditions. I was also impressed with the stability of the TBM 910. Despite the gusting crosswinds, the plane handled it all very easily. That kind of performance really inspires confidence in your aircraft. 

We spent the night in Keflavik and were ready to go early the next morning. Conditions had improved considerably. I took the left seat again and off we went to our next stop, Greenland, which was to take a little over three hours. We were cleared direct to Flight Level 280. 

As we were pretty far north, and heading west, it took a long time for the sun to rise. We were treated to a spectacular moon, which we chased for a couple of hours before the sun finally banished the moon for another day.

I should note that there is no radar coverage in this part of the world, so position reports are mandatory. And not just any report. There is a very prescribed format, and it must be followed to the letter, lest you incur the wrath of the North Atlantic controllers.

Greenland appeared off in the distance, but initially, it just looked like clouds on the horizon. I was totally unprepared for the spectacular snow-covered mountain scenery, complete with hundreds of small icebergs. With apologies to Ernst Gann, it truly was “Valhalla.”

We landed at Narsarsuaq, which was known as Bluie West One during World War II. Almost all war planes bound for northern Europe landed here to refuel. Unfortunately, before the days of accurate weather forecasting and GPS, many a young pilot lost his life trying to find the right fiord that was home to Narsarsuaq. 

The approach to Narsarsuaq was probably the highlight of the trip. To approach, you drop down into the fiord, and “yank and bank” as you make your way up the fiord. After the last right turn, the fiord ends, and you are greeted with Runway 6‚ which is uphill. No problem. With Margrit’s coaching, I had an acceptable landing.

We took on more fuel, filed for the next leg, and we were airborne again within 30 minutes or so. Departing was the opposite of the approach, so more hand flying down the fiord.

You cannot imagine how much fun it is to fly an immensely powerful and responsive aircraft. Yet for all that performance, its takeoff and landing speeds are just a little higher than my Bonanza.

Before I flew the TBM, I always wondered what kind of pilot would buy this class of aircraft. Now I know: A pilot who really loves to fly, and appreciates the do anything-go anywhere nature of this incredible aircraft. 

The next stop was Goose Bay, Newfoundland. I once again had the left seat, and it was an about 2-½ hour flight. It was bitter cold there, and quite windy. Interestingly enough, both Iceland and Greenland were relatively balmy, especially for February. We paid for that in Goose Bay.

Another quick turn and we were off for our next stop, Bangor, Maine, to clear customs. After a flight of less than 2-½ hours, we landed. With her typical efficiency, Margit made the whole process easy, and after a short period of time, all paperwork was in order, and we were off for home, Groton, Connecticut.

As had been the case with all the previous legs, Margrit offered me the left seat. This was a short flight, a little over one hour. I was back in familiar territory, and it felt good to be able to look out the window and know where I was without looking at a navigation screen. I probably had the worst landing of the trip, and off course, my wife and Ken Dono, of Columbia Aircraft Sales Sales, the Northeast TBM distributor, were on hand to witness my “arrival.”

To be able to make this trip in such an incredible aircraft, with a fascinating and unbelievably talented ferry pilot, was unforgettable. For a piston pilot like me, this was the trip of a lifetime.