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Cessna Arc
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Fire in the air
Fire on board an aircraft is never taken lightly. Air traffic control will arrange for all other traffic to keep clear and the stricken machine will get a bee-line course to land as quickly as possible. Aircraft are equipped with fire fighting equipment of their own, but a major fire in an engine, for instance, is an emergency of the most serious kind. When the plane lands, airport rescue and fire fighting units will be standing by to intervene as necessary.
At this particular airport procedures stated that, once the airport fire brigade was alerted to respond to such an emergency, units of the municipal fire brigade, located some 10 miles away, were to be called in also to assist and supplement the local force. This otherwise sensible arrangement, combined with a dispatcher who was more bureaucrat than fireman, could however lead to a situation that was utterly funny, despite its outrageousness.
It was a relatively quiet Friday afternoon when a twin engine jet took off with 75 souls on board for its hop to the neighboring city. Controllers in the tower could watch a faultless lift off and initial climb and when the flight was transferred to departure control, a few, short radar vectors saw the plane firmly planted on the international airway.
The handoff to the next center also went smoothly and we glanced at the receding blip on the radar screen with quiet satisfaction. Happy landing, boys! The radar controller, to whom I was number two (his "co-coordinator") was an old hand and though already occupied with the next few upcoming departures, his sixth sense made him look at the edge of the screen where the flight we had just handed over was supposed to be inching out of our sight at a steady 400 knots. What he saw made him look again, at the same time honing his senses to an absolute peak. The blip, instead of tracing a nice, straight line along the centerline of the airway, was at the topmost quadrant of an arc, apparently turning back towards us. This could only mean trouble. Bad trouble, if our experience was anything to go by.
Almost at the same moment the light indicating an incoming call from the neighboring center flashed on the intercom panel. "Your flight is reporting a serious engine fire; they are unable to maintain altitude. They are turning back and requesting priority for landing. She is still in our area, but considers them released to you. She is all yours... and good luck!"- said the impersonal voice.
By the time he finished, we had the flight back on our radio frequency and the captain reported much the same story. He sounded very calm even when he added that although the onboard fire-extinguisher had been emptied into to burning engine, his sensors still indicated an active fire. We could almost visualize the big silver bird, descending slowly with black smoke streaming behind it and those three men up front as calm as ever. Well, boys, we thought, make sure the cockpit gets onto the runway in one piece; the rest of the plane is likely to follow safely... But then it was time we, too, started earning our pay. With the radar controller busy clearing all other traffic and setting up a direct course to the nearest runway for our stricken machine, we made a quick mental calculation. Considering their present altitude, rate of descent and distance from the field, they could just about make it. Arrive on the runway, that is, instead of touching down in a cabbage field some distance away.
We signaled the tower and the emergency services, giving them all the relevant details, including our estimate for the arrival of the plane. A look at the radar screen and the tiny blip nicely lined up with the extended runway centerline confirmed that this latter was a bare five minutes away. The expensive rescue machinery, fortunately idle most of the time, got under way to save whatever could be saved.
The intercom light winked on once again. This time it was the control tower, with an urgent message from the airport fire brigade. "Could we delay the arrival of the flight by about fifteen minutes?"-they wanted to know. Without bothering to argue with the tower controller (who was as surprised by the request as I was myself), I asked him to connect me to the fire brigade dispatcher. The man, holed up in his warm little radio room, repeated the request, adding that units of the municipal fire brigade would not be able to make it to the field in under ten minutes and The Book said they were to respond together...
No, we did not ask the pilot, calm as he was, to fly a few circuits over the city, possibly watching the little red cars racing for the field, though I guess such a request would have made even him loose his temper somewhat. They landed two minutes later and the offending engine was covered in foam in no time at all. We eventually invited the dispatcher and his boss for a friendly talk and a visit to the control center which, as it turned out, they had never seen before. Collaborative resource and decision management was yet to be invented...
Soon afterward, The Book was also changed.
I have experienced some of these stories myself, others were handed down by older colleagues. It was nice being a part of it and it is nice to recreate the memories and share it with you today.
Please visit my blog at http://www.roger-wilco.net You will find many more aviation stories and other interesting items there.
The Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress
Few aircraft can claim the pivotal role in US victory during World War II that the Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress can.
Designed to meet the August 16, 1934 Army Air Corps requirement for a multi-engined anti-shipping bomber to replace the twin-engined Martin B-10 with a 1,020-mile range, a 2,000-pound bomb load capability, and a 200-mph speed, the B-17 had broken from the standard twin-engined design by offering twice the number of powerplants in order to significantly increase payload, range, and service ceiling. The resultant Model 299 prototype, powered by four 750-hp Pratt and Whitney Hornet, three-bladed pistons, first flew on July 28, 1935, and could carry a payload of eight 600-lb bombs. It was both the largest US land plane and the world’s fastest bomber at the time. Thirteen pre-series aircraft were delivered between December 2, 1936 and August 5, 1937.
So inherently flexible had the basic low-wing, dorsal-finned aircraft been, however, that it had been progressively adapted for varying roles with turbocharged Wright Cyclone engines for higher-altitude performance, an increased area rudder and flaps for greater effectiveness on the B-17B, and self-sealing tanks, flush guns, and a ventral bathtub on the B-17C, which had first appeared in 1939 and had been operated by the RAF in England. The B-17D weathered most of the flak in the Pacific Theatre. The succeeding B-17E, appearing in 1941, incorporated a redesigned aft fuselage for greater flying stability at high altitude with a larger fin, increased armor protection, and ventral and tail turrets. The first of these, which demonstrated 317-mph speeds, entered service in the Pacific Theatre at the beginning of 1942 and 512 had ultimately been built. The B-17F, which also appeared that year, featured the newly introduced long Plexiglas nose, paddle-wing propellers, an underwing rack provision, and even more powerful armament, and resulted in a 3,405-production run. The B-17G, the ultimate and most numerically popular version, featured a chin turret, flush staggered waist guns, and a 17,600-pound bomb load capability, and was intended for European deployment. Its sheer design capability, which had been far more ambitious than any previous version, permitted a sufficient bomb and fuel load to be carried without retarding range and accounted for an additional 8,685-unit production. Both the B-17F and –G can be credited with the decimation of Germany.
So instrumental had the design been to the war, in fact, that Boeing, Lockheed, and Douglas had all simultaneously churned out copies in staggering numbers, eventually totaling 12,731 airframes.
A recent B-17 flight, in which I myself had “returned to World War II skies,” had occurred from Farmingdale’s Republic Airport in Long Island, New York.
The aircraft, with production serial number 44-83575, had been built under contract from Boeing by the Douglas Aircraft Company in Long Beach, California, and had been accepted on April 7, 1945. Too late for combat, the airframe had served as part of the Air/Sea 1st Rescue Squadron and the Military Air Transport Command. Seven years later, in April of 1952, it had been used to test the effects of three nuclear explosions and had finally been sold as part of an 800-ton scrap pile after a 13-year cool-down period.
Fighting the fierce slipstream from the still-turning propellers, the six passengers climbed through the aft, starboard hatch that September morning and clamored through the aircraft’s interior toward one of the nine, seatbelt-equipped floor seats. A throttle advancement, translating into a deeper engine vibration, signaled brake release and preceded the short taxi to Runway 19’s threshold, as the electrical-mechanical system, sending a screech through the interior, channeled its effects through the aircraft’s arteries and actuated the fabric-covered trailing edge flaps into their take off positions. The tail, torquing at right angles to the ground, responded to periodic brake applications as its singular wheel rode the end of its shock absorber. Full throttle advancement, flooding the cabin with vibration, initiated the B-17’s take off roll, sending an overwhelming slipstream of air over the horizontal stabilizers which responded with incessant up- and down-flutter in its wake. At 30 mph, the vertical tail became fully effective, permitting the nose to be aligned with the runway centerline. The empennage, now a flying, though not-independent "airplane” itself, gently rose from the concrete, as the Flying Fortress, in a momentary, horizontal position on its pitch axis, generated sufficient lift and surrendered itself to flight with its thick, straight, massive wings at 90 mph and forwardly retracted its singular-wheeled bicycle undercarriage into the inboard engine wheel wells. The maneuver had preceded every single World War II victory.
Climbing at 600 fpm, the Flying Fortress penetrated the early-morning blue barely marred by a few cloud wisps on a due-south, 180-degree heading and maintained 135 mph. Throttled back as it reached the lilly pad-green patches forming a mosaic off of Long Island’s South Shore, the aircraft leveled off at 1,000 feet and commenced a left bank with the aid of its mechanically-linked ailerons toward the Capetree Bridge leading to Jones Beach and its signature monument. Supporting its weight with its thick, wide-chord wings, the bomber cruised over the pale-blue and silver reflecting surface of the Atlantic, straddling the coast and sending an intense vibration through its cowling as its Wright Cyclone engines turned their Hamilton Standard propellers at 1,800 rpm.
The massive bomber’’s stabilizing cruise mood had prompted closer internal inspection of the cabin.
Designed as a high-altitude strategic bomber, the B-17 incorporated several gunner stations. The Plexiglas nose provided a 180-degree, unobstructed forward view, below which was the chin turret, and this section was occupied both by the bombardier and the navigator, whose side-facing station was on the port side. Behind and above was the two-person cockpit which provided vision through its two forward windows. The top turret, behind and a step below the flight deck, provided the only 360-degree view of the sky, and its gunman doubled as the engineer. Take off and landing provision had been provided by the two aft-facing, seatbelt-equipped floor seats. A very narrow, single-foot-wide catwalk led through the bomb bay, whose under-fuselage clamshell doors remained closed in flight, to the radio operator’s station, which featured the radio operator’s console itself, two tiny fuselage windows overlooking the wing, and another two aft-facing floor seats. The aircraft’s main section housed the ball turret, the waist gunners’ stations, the considerably-sized windows, and five inward-facing floor seats. Visible in its aft portion was the shock absorber rod leading to the tail wheel. The tail gunner’s station was located in the extreme aft portion of the fuselage. The interior sported entirely exposed dark green ribs and metal skin panels, with the aircraft having been designed for functionality, not comfort.
The B-17G operating today’s flight continued to straddle Long Island’s South Shore, alternating course by 180 degrees to a fly westerly heading before retracing its steps in the opposite compass direction.
The cockpit sported the two control yokes and the central pedestal with the throttle, mixture controls, and prop pitch handles. A chart recommended ratios of engine rpms to mixture settings.
A right bank turned the Flying Fortress to a 010-degree heading, at which time a throttle reduction gravity-induced the airframe down to 600 feet for a characteristic fly-over of Republic Airport’s Runway One, in the opposite direction to which it had taken off, at 145 mph. Even at this height, the quad-engined bomber must have appeared colossal in comparison to the single-engined Pipers and Cessnas which normally plied its skies.
Passing over the airport’s perimeter, the B-17 turned to a due-east, 090-degree heading before arcing 100-degrees to the right in order to configure itself for its final approach to Runway 19. All too soon had its six passengers been instructed to take their floor seats and refasten their seatbelts in the various sections. Lift lost due to progressive power reductions was initially augmented by trailing edge flap extensions, only to be ultimately counteracted by drag-induced undercarriage deployment, as evidenced by the high shrill actuators piercing the interior like knives. Passing over the runway’s threshold at a nose-down pitch, the pale green bomber first snatched concrete with its port wheel “paw” before the physics forces of weight transfer caused the starboard wheel to mimic the action, and the runway surface friction depleted its ground speed sufficiently to remove the empennage from aerodynamic flight and place it in trailing mode as a slight screech indicated the groundward settling of its tail wheel.
Marshaled into its parking position only feet from a B-24’s high-wingtip, the B-17 rotated 180 degrees to the right on its tail wheel and starved its mighty Wright Cyclone engines of fuel, diminishing their propellers’ rotations to stationary silences in the very warm, still-summer air beneath flawlessly-blue skies.
Climbing through the aft hatch, I stepped on to the ramp. Because of the Flying Fortress’s performance capabilities and ruggedness of design, post-World War II skies had been assured of remaining blue ones…
About the Author
A graduate of Long Island University-C.W. Post Campus with a summa-cum-laude BA Degree in Comparative Languages and Journalism, I have subsequently earned the Continuing Community Education Teaching Certificate from the Nassau Association for Continuing Community Education (NACCE) at Molloy College, the Travel Career Development Certificate from the Institute of Certified Travel Agents (ICTA) at LIU, and the AAS Degree in Aerospace Technology at the State University of New York – College of Technology at Farmingdale. Having amassed almost three decades in the airline industry, I managed the New York-JFK and Washington-Dulles stations at Austrian Airlines, created the North American Station Training Program, served as an Aviation Advisor to Farmingdale State University of New York, and created and taught the Airline Management Certificate Program at the Long Island Educational Opportunity Center. A freelance author, I have written some 70 books of the short story, novel, nonfiction, essay, poetry, article, log, curriculum, training manual, and textbook genre in English, German, and Spanish, having principally focused on aviation and travel, and I have been published in book, magazine, newsletter, and electronic Web site form. I am a writer for Cole Palen’s Old Rhinebeck Aerodrome in New York.
What do you think of my stall and recovery technique?
(Cessna 150)
do my checks, carb heat on, throttle to 1600 rpm, 20 flaps, back pressure until I stall, stall. lower nose to just under horizon, use rudder to keep on heading, hit the power and carb cold, get into a climb attitude, wait to see if in white arc before putting up flaps.
1. Some recommend using carb heat for long eough to ensure that any ice buildup is melted, then returning it to the cold position. Do this BEFORE reducing throttle to prevent any chance of reducing power too much while ice is present.
2. Smoothly and briskly to power. Don't 'hit' it or 'yank' it.
3. Being smooth, brisk and precise will minimize altitude loss.
Aero-News: Quote Of The Day (08.10.10)
"The ARC recommendation is the first step in the rulemaking process, and it is clear the FAA has a lot of work to do before a proposal can be initiated." Source: Part of the Aircraft Electronics Association's comments in regards to the Safety Management Systems Aviation Rulemaking Committee (ARC) having published its final report to the FAA regarding suggestions for the implementation of SMS in ...
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