Most of us who fly find ourselves at some point holding a private pilot certificate.
More often than not that certificate bestows upon us the privilege to fly single-engine land airplanes of up to 12,500 pounds without submitting to any additional certification requirements.
Whether we choose to fly a fabric covered, wood framed, low horsepower machine like the Pietenpol Aircamper or a composite construction, turbocharged Cirrus SR22T, we’re good to go.
At least that’s true from the FAA’s perspective. But are we really good to go?
From a more practical viewpoint, we’re nowhere near capable of switching from one cockpit to another with such a cavalier attitude.
The multitude of issues that face us in the cockpit differ considerably from those we might find in a car. Sure, you can zip from a Korean econo-box to an American mid-size sedan, to a European SUV with relative ease. But how comfortable are you jumping into an electric vehicle and making it go down the road with confidence? Even in a traditional gasoline-powered vehicle, how many times have you driven an unfamiliar vehicle only to realize a few hours into the journey that you have no idea where the gas tank filler release is?
Uh oh!
The FAA provides us with minimum standards for our aeronautical endeavors, which we would be wise to remember are literally minimum standards. These should not be the end point of our training and currency goals. The wise pilot seeks proficiency, not merely a willingness to fly.
Flying by the seat of your pants may sound exciting in the movies, but in real life it’s downright dangerous. You may not feel the risk building. But it’s there. By the time you realize there’s a serious problem it may be too late to prevent it or correct for it.
Complying with FAA minimums is one thing. Yet, our more pressing concern may be the limitations our insurance company puts on us. This is especially true when we transition from one aircraft to another.
When I bought the Piper J-3 Cub I loved so dearly, my insurance carrier made it clear in writing that I was to obtain 10 hours of dual instruction in that machine before I was cleared to fly it solo. That stipulation wasn’t in the small print. It was right there in plain sight: 10 hours. That was the threshold I needed to meet. Not a minute less.
My friend Jill had a similar limitation on her insurance policy when she began flying the Champ she’d spent the better part of a year restoring. She knew the airplane inside and out on the ground, but her carrier wanted to be sure she had first-hand experience with the quirks and handling of the machine in flight and in motion on the ground.
That’s a reasonable requirement, frankly.
There are so many unique aspects of each aircraft, it only makes sense for the insurance company to go above and beyond what the FAA deems to be minimally acceptable.
Even a transition from the venerable Cessna 152 to a 172 to a 182 should be treated seriously. The basic form of the three designs are similar, but the horsepower more than doubles from the bottom end of the scale to the upper limit. The performance of one is very different from the performance of the other. This is undoubtedly, a contributing factor to the number of C-182s with bent firewalls. How many were flown by pilots who were comfortable landing a C-172 harboring the erroneous belief that landing a C-182 required the same technique?
It doesn’t. The C-182 is a different animal altogether.
Here’s the crux of the issue: We carry insurance as protection against the worst that can happen. The insurance may not prevent bodily harm, but the limits it puts on us surely play into the risk mitigation responsibility we each have. It should affect our thinking and our actions.
Insurance is a contract for payment. As long as we pay our premiums and follow the rules of the FAA and the insurance contract, we’re covered to the limits of the value of our policy. Defy the minimum requirements of the FAA or the insurance policy, and we’re on our own.
An old friend recently communicated to me a sad story. He’d experienced his first insurance client fatality. Before flying solo the client’s insurance policy required him to complete one hour of dual instruction in the aircraft he’d just acquired. The client skipped that step. I don’t know why. Perhaps he thought it was a minor issue not worthy of his attention. It wouldn’t be out of the question for him to consider his previous experience to be all he needed, regardless of what the policy limits were.
The pilot flew to the point of fuel exhaustion. The engine died on final. He apparently attempted to stretch the glide, stalled the aircraft, crashed, and was killed. That is a tragic outcome, no doubt.
More tragic is the realization that his insurance company may decide not to cover the loss because the client had not met the terms of the policy. He skipped that mandatory one hour of dual instruction. Maybe to save a few dollars. Perhaps to save time and get right into enjoying the benefits of his new flying machine. Whatever the case, things didn’t work out in the pilot’s favor. His insurance likely won’t benefit the family he left behind either.
Transition training is essential for those of us who wish to fly safely, with confidence, and with the full backing of our insurance carriers. Whether you’re transitioning uphill from a J-3 to a C-182, or downward from an Airbus 310 to a Piper PA-28, get the training you need to meet the FAA minimums, your insurance carrier stipulations, and then go beyond in search of true proficiency.
It’s the responsible thing to do.
Jamie’s advice is sound, and can save a lot of bent metal or worse. I’ve been flying for over 50 years, jets to biplanes, and always take into consideration the differences in aircraft that I am climbing into to decide if transition training is needed. The answer for many pilots is, “Absolutely,” but it’s a personal decision. Years ago I bought into a partnership on a 1929 Fleet biplane. I had lots of tailwheel time and had once owned a Starduster biplane, but there’s a big difference in a Starduster powered by a 260 HP Lycoming, and a Warner-powered Fleet. The Fleet begged for a checkout with a qualified instructor. Sure, I could have probably checked myself out, but we all know what “goeth before a fall.” And, yes, different models can be different animals. As a long-time Globe Swift owner, I advise new Swift owners to ALWAYS get transition training from a Swift-qualified instructor. And even if a pilot is trading from a lower power Swift with control wheels to a high-power Super Swift with bubble canopy and control sticks, transition training is necessary. They are not the same animal.
Jim – you’re talking about the differences in airplanes. I was talking about the similarities in airplanes and the fact that they are not properly taught. Flight training might be better off with first understanding how an approach is done at the top, in an Airbus 380 coupled auto-land at night in minimum weather. The auto-pilot will use the elevator to center the glideslope, the power to maintain the correct speed, coordinate the ailerons and rudder to center the localizer. In the flare and landing the pilots will monitor the roundout and touchdown by looking at the runway illuminated by the landing lights, a relatively short distance ahead (looking over the nose at a slightly downward angle). In a nutshell, those are the fundamentals for all approaches in all airplanes in all conditions. If a pilot understands and copies what George does, he has universal skills. He can fly any airplane. That’s basically what I was taught from day one.
But in training what often happens is the opposite. Pilots are taught pre-set pitch and power levels at a rote level that do not connect properly to the performance of the airplane (i.e. maintaining glideslope and speed). Just a couple of days ago, I saw a new video that was teaching centerline control with only the rudder. The majority teach pitch and power in reverse to what George does. The majority also teach that for the roundout and landing the pilot should look to the end of the runway. Bottom line, we have a pilot population that receives completely contradictory information. Very sad.
I would disagree 100% with the idea that different models are different animals. They all have the same controls, create the same basic forces, and move about the same axes. Drivers don’t have any problems switching from one car to another – pilots shouldn’t have any problems switching from one airplane to another. I didn’t. One of the most frequent issues that causes problems with transitions is that the pilot was not taught to use the power correctly. For example, many pilots are taught a pre-set pitch and power combination for the landing approach in a model like the C152. They are automatically trapped. That doesn’t work in other models. They weren’t taught universal skills, as the Flight Training Handbook says they should have been. It would be like a driving school teaching you to control speed in a compact using a certain rpm – then you buy a large SUV. What you learned in your driving school will then not work. I progressed from a Grumman American through most of the GA airplanes you’d see at the airport including multiple twin turbo-prop models. I was taught universal skills from the first hour in the Grumman (48 years ago) – when transitioning to another model, I knew exactly what to do with the controls.
I totally disagree with Your’s first sentence in the comment above, Mr. Warren Webb. I’ve flown a lot of different airplanes, brands, models, power units, complexities, etc (even if this implies , for instance, an a/c of the some model) and, frankly, every one is, undoubtedly, a diferent animal, with a different behavior.
Yes the behavior is different – slower, faster, and it may be heavier. Some have many more systems which have to be learned. But I was talking about the basic controls and characteristics that come on and are common in every airplane. I think in many cases, from day one, the techniques are not taught correctly and an automatic transfer to the next airplane doesn’t take place. Like I said, if you are taught to use a certain rpm in a C150 (which is common), you will have no clue what to do with the throttle in any other airplane that is not the same or nearly identical. This should not happen, and it leads to poor piloting skills.
Are you serious? Just because you lucked out (for real) doesn’t mean others shouldn’t do the prudent and safe way to transition. And we’re not talking about cars here. There is a reason insurance companies require that training. They have many studies showing that by doing so saves lives. They also have learned that payouts are less which proves their point.
ALWAYS TAKE THE SIDE OF SAFETY.
You are correct, of course, in that beyond the similar basic controls that all have, there has to be familiarization or what the airlines call differences training as pilots move into other models. And other training such as transition to tailwheel and multi-engine are especially critical for safety besides being required by regulations or insurance. My point was to emphasize the problem at the basic training level where there is so much inconsistency that it makes it appear that airplanes are different animals. With the basic controls that all airplanes have, they are not.