Now what?

By ALEX TENREIRO

“We made it.”

This flight will complete Nick’s night cross-country requirements for his private pilot certificate and my ATP hour requirements.

My interview with an airline is in a few days, and the tailwind we’ve got has this light sport screaming at nearly triple digits ground speed, almost passing the traffic on the 91 freeway 3,500 feet below us. 

“My controls.”

I randomly take the controls and let go of the joystick to check if my students have the aircraft properly trimmed. I let the plane experience a safe, but unacceptable, loss or gain of altitude before giving the controls back and inquiring why we were off our cruising altitude. Students find this annoying.

Nick didn’t. Nick was on his game. He was always on his game. Nick was one of those kids who soloed an airplane before he could legally drive.

But his stick and rudder skills, impressive since day one, weren’t what made him such a good student pilot. Nick actually studied.

Now I know what you’re thinking: There’s no way teenagers have the capacity to take things seriously. I sure didn’t. But I’m not Nick. He could sit in the classroom for two consecutive half hour sessions and pay attention as I taught weather theory: Occluded fronts, the Coriolis force, all of it.

One “nicely done” nod later, I gave Nick the controls back. 

“CRUZ 2PS, SoCal approach, squawk VFR, frequency change approved.” 

“Squawk VFR, going to CTAF Light Sport 2PS. Thanks, goodnight!”

Nick was always polite to ATC. See what I mean? Bravo Nick’s parents.

 “AWOS sounded as expected, calm winds, clear, and a million,” Nick briefed. “We’ll start descending to traffic pattern altitude of 1,800 and keep following the 91, it’ll lead us to our 45 downwind entry for left traffic on 27.” 

“Sounds good to me.”

I sometimes wondered what I was even doing there in the plane with him. I almost felt bad taking his money since there wasn’t much to teach. I mean, I did take it. LA is not cheap.

“Let’s see a soft field effort,” I instructed Nick.

We taught our students to make all landings soft field to reduce stress on the landing gear as much as possible. It was a nice sentiment. The chiropractor’s office near the airport always had a wait.

“Butter,” Nick grinned. 

Yeah, I’ll allow it. It was butter. Nose gear touched down gently, a bit of a shimmy. It was a free castering nose gear, so a shimmy on touchdown wasn’t out of the ordinary. 

“Keep that back pressure in the elevator to relieve some of the force on the nose gear and slow down. Remember, you should be full deflection on the elevator before the nose touches down to minimize stress on the nosewheel.” 

“Got it.”

Full stop, 5,000 feet of runway left, no one in the area, no need to taxi back, we’ll make these stop and goes.

61.109(a)(2)(ii) states 10 takeoffs and 10 landings to a full stop (with each landing involving a flight in the traffic pattern) at an airport. Nothing mentioned about taxiing back. No, I didn’t have to look that up. Yeah, I’m a regulations nerd, what about it? 

Upwind Vy, crosswind Vy leveling off at TPA, downwind 80 knots indicated, seven clicks to ensure the runway lights stay lit, downwind abeam, before landing checklist, base flaps 20, final configured and stable, soft field touchdown butter. 

Then: Nose gear shimmy. 

No, change that to: Violent nose gear shimmy. 

Now, I know what you’re thinking. “That’s a great name for my cover band that practices in the hangar,” and you’d be correct. I, however, was not thinking that. 

“Keep in that back pressure,” I calmly reminded Nick. 

Nick, on it as always, already had full scale deflection, in the correct direction I might add. The nose gear continued to shimmy, and the nose of the aircraft dropped a bit lower than normal. 

“Hm, must be a flat tire,” I thought to myself. “That’s annoying, how do you change an airplane tire at night? I wonder if there’s a shop open or a mechanic on call.” 

I then realized it was not a flat tire. This was an easy conclusion to make once the shimmying stopped, which was great.

What wasn’t great was that the nose of the aircraft continued to drop. The prop disappeared from my peripherals in a stupendous flurry as it contacted the tarmac.

With the engine forcefully shut down, the plastic and metal of the cowling sliding down the runway provided an ambiance of waves crashing and lapping along a sandy beach for my thoughts of “so much for my airline career…my wife is going to be so mad if I die…darn it, I left a half eaten bowl of Chipotle in the instructor’s fridge.”

Interesting where your mind goes when your life is threatened.

We, of course, didn’t die. Luckily touchdown speed is about 45 knots and it was actually a smooth landing. We smoothly slid to a stop just off centerline, able to maintain some directional control with the brakes because Nick was on it. 

“You okay?” I asked.

It was strange talking through the headset without the engine running.

“Yeah, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened. I put in back pressure. Was that my fault?” 

“Not at all, that was a textbook soft field landing. Whelp, what the.…” I’ll leave it to your imagination how the sentence was finished. 

Nick and I were safe. There was no indication of any other aircraft attempting to take off or land on the runway.

We just crashed, right?

Well, maybe. To the regs!

49 CFR 830.2 Definitions: Aircraft accident means an occurrence associated with the operation of an aircraft which takes place between the time any person boards the aircraft with the intention of flight and all such persons have disembarked, and in which any person suffers death or serious injury, or in which the aircraft receives substantial damage.

Okay great, the nose gear collapsed and the prop exploded to Narnia for all I can tell.

No injury, but surely we have substantial damage.

Let’s check that definition: “Damage or failure which adversely affects the structural strength, performance, or flight characteristics of the aircraft, and which would normally require major repair or replacement of the affected component.”

Engine failure or damage limited to an engine if only one engine fails or is damaged, bent fairings or cowling, dented skin, small puncture holes in the skin or fabric, ground damage to rotor or propeller blades, and damage to landing gear, wheels, tires, flaps, engine accessories, brakes, or wingtips are not considered “substantial damage” for the purpose of this part.

Re-read that last sentence. Ground damage to rotor or propeller blades and damage to landing gear are not considered “substantial damage” for the purpose of this part.

Oh, cool! We didn’t have an accident.

Let’s turn to the next page, 49 CFR 830.5 Immediate Notification…nothing listed there applies, so we’re good.

That, however, is where my knowledge of the regulations on what to do after an accident ran out.

Now what?

What do you do after an accident or, more accurately, after your aircraft is rendered inoperative due to a situation that is not legally defined as an accident? Who do you contact for help? What do you say?

It was about 9:30 p.m. The tower was closed, the FBO was closed, and the mechanics have all gone home. I was stumped.

Okay, first things first.

“Nick, grab your stuff and get a safe distance from the plane and the runway.”

Nick gathered his things into his flight bag. Yeah he had a flight bag, not a backpack. He was on it.

Next, contact help.

A quick few swipes and taps through ForeFlight led me to the contact information for the airport manager. No answer. What the heck, Kim? After a colorful voicemail, I heard a scratchy transmission through my headset.

I had left the master switch and avionics on so I could leave the aircraft lights on and keep the runway lit in an attempt to keep the aircraft as visible as possible in case anyone was attempting to takeoff or land. The scratchy transmission turned out to be a police helicopter.

Maybe they can hear me!

The police helicopter was able to get hold of the flight service station (FSS), who then called my cell phone. They conferenced in the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB), who confirmed our determination that this was not an accident and gave me permission to move the plane off the runway.

The police helicopter got hold of the fire department in charge of the airport and sent a truck.

Awesome. I just want to go home. 

Cut to 30 minutes later. A NOTAM was released for a runway closure, a fire truck was on the runway, and seven men were scratching their heads as to how to move the plane.

Towing the plane would be difficult. Towing would actually mean dragging and could cause potential damage to the runway and taxiway surfaces, which I wanted to avoid.

Sure, the runway was closed, but a NOTAM is only good if you read it. It turns out to be difficult to access and read a NOTAM mid-flight, so the clock was ticking.

We were finally able to jump up and grab the horizontal stabilizer, pull it down, balance the plane on the main gear, and push the plane to the ramp. 

Lessons Learned

The lessons I learned are the same lessons every CFI teaches.

Maintain situational awareness and use all available resources.

ForeFlight, CTAF, airport ops, 911, the FSS, the NTSB, and my cell phone all played parts in minimizing danger and damage.

My phone conversations with the FSS and the NTSB was surprisingly efficient, and the people I spoke with were wonderful and helpful.

No one was trying to find a reason to take my certificates away, as I feared.

Everyone I dealt with was supportive and safety was always the primary focus of the conversation. We are a part of a community that share the same goal of flying safe today so we can keep flying safe tomorrow. 

I decided to take tomorrow off.

Nick was shaken up, but he was also annoyed. Since we weren’t able to fly the plane back, you know with the whole crash that wasn’t legally an accident, his night cross-country requirements were not met (61.109(a)(2)(i) one cross country flight of over 100 nautical miles total distance). That leg was only 50.2 nautical miles.

However, he has since finished up his training and was accepted to multiple aviation college programs throughout the country.

The second half of my Chipotle was delicious. My interview went well too.