Pacific Island Flyer November 1998

**Weather or Not?**
. A true hanger flying story .. from Hawaii … It was 06:30 when I arrived at the Kahului airport to preflight my single engine Cessna for a pleasure flight to Honolulu to buy a Christmas present for my wife. The sky looked ominous and the winds were not the usual trades, it was coming from the southwest instead. My immediate feeling was that it looked like we were in for a Kona storm in the next couple of hours if not sooner. I have lived in Hawaii since I was 13 years old and the weather didn’t look like the type I would want to fly VFR to Oahu in. A local flight around the island perhaps, but not to another island. So. Before I even started to preflight the aircraft I decided to get a weather briefing, assuming that my call to flight service would confirm my suspicions of impending foul weather and would save me the time of doing a preflight. Much to my surprise, the forecast from flight service for my route was for VFR weather until at least noon. My planned departure time was 07:00 to arrive 08:00; that’s four hours to spare. So, I departed Kahului on time, at 07:00. That was my first mistake. When I got to the west end of Molokai, I could not see Oahu, and the weather behind me was much worse. Molokai and Maui were already IFR; so my only choice was to continue to Oahu. I arrived at Koko Head about 07:45, just in time to watch the airport vanish under a giant black hole that was heading right for me. Approach had me holding at Koko Head due to the obvious IFR conditions at Honolulu, and was going to advise me when the field would be VFR again. I soon realized I was in trouble, because the field will go VFR after its IFR weather passer over Koko Head. As I circled Koko Head I started looking for a place to make an emergency landing, figuring that I didn’t have much time before this huge black hole coming from Honolulu was going to swallow me up. I spotted an unpopulated peninsula in the middle of Hawaii Kai that looked like a perfect spot. Instead of making an emergency landing, I decided to try to continue circling Koko Head, with full flaps, 55mph, looking up at the top of Koko Head. I hoped to maintain visual reference with it as the storm passed and then land in Honolulu without having to make an emergency landing. That was my second mistake. When the storm engulfed me, I was unable to maintain ground reference, the rain was so heavy and the wind so violent that I could not fly the airplane. I was certain that the airplane was going to come apart before it would even have a chance to hit the ground. My entire life flashed before me and I remember thinking of all the “crazy and dangerous” things I had done and survived, only to be killed by clouds! Why couldn’t I die while doing a low level aerobatic demonstration instead. I had now accepted the fact that I was going to die and now I was just waiting for it to happen. Then, all of a sudden, I popped out of the clouds a couple hundred feet over Hawaii Kai, with wings level on a left base for the peninsula that I had picked out earlier to make an emergency landing. By some miracle, I landed on the muddy peninsula in the pouring rain without harm to me or airplane. The airplane had to stay there for four days while the weather got better and the mud dried up enough so I could fly it out. I since have learned that my own instincts and my personal weather observations will overrule a conflicting weather forecast, and when you have a chance to make and emergency landing, don’t wait until its too late; you might not get a second chance.

**The Safety Line:**
Comments from Scott Allen, SPM (Ops)
First off, we all have to thank the author for his candor. You’re made of stern stuff if you can read without squirming the part where he wrote, "... I had now accepted the fact that I was going to die and now I was just waiting for it to happen" Must have been tough to write. We’re keeping this anonymous due to our criticisms of the pilot’s judgmental process, but the real issue is, could this have been *you? If no, good! Keep it up. If yes, we’d suggest this answer: never again. Interestingly, in many ways, this isn’t* the kind of stuff you should be reading. Hangar flying is great, but stories like these suggest that you can come back from the dead. (Pretty tough act if you’re not Lazarus.) To the extent that hangar flying stories’ happy endings turn on luck, they are a beguiling poison. Consider the instant case where, after passing up the chance to make a safe emergency landing, the author writes, "…the storm engulfed me, I was unable to maintain ground reference, the rain was so heavy and the wind was so violent that I could not fly the airplane. I was certain that the airplane was going to come apart before it would even have a chance to hit the ground." If you elect to believe in divine providence, you may well see evidence of it here. The author is a sharp guy and a strong pilot, but for the period covered by the foregoing passage, he was more of a passenger than a pilot. Bottom line, he abdicated his foremost pilot-in-command responsibility, that of ensuring a safe outcome. Clichés get to be that way because they are true: *A superior pilot uses superior judgment* to avoid situations where superior control manipulation is required.	There’s also a point hidden in this: hangar-stories-based-on-luck turn on reverse-Darwinism. Luck is great if you buy a lotto ticket, but it is one of the foulest doctrines imaginable for betting your life, those of your passengers, and even the lives of those on the ground. Unhappily, the pilots who would have the best "There I was…" weather stories are, to put it as gently as possible, no longer available for interview. So, the stories we get are from those who lucked-out and survived, but the most valuable weather stories perish with their pilots. Accordingly, stories-based-on-luck are reverse-Darwinism, unless you subscribe to survival of the dumbest. The aviation community is one of the elite slices of our population, and as a Pilot-in-Command or A&P, you’ve accepted responsibility for adult conduct. Responsibility isn’t an item for check-rides and examinations, it’s the cornerstone for aviation careers, be they private or commercial. In the feature article, not only did the author place himself at grave risk, but wound up fighting for his life over a congested area in sub-marginal weather. As last thoughts go, the knowledge that you were about to kill innocents on the ground may quite possibly be one of the worst. Given this pilot’s very real pre-flight apprehension about the weather, try this for a decision criterion: "If there’s any doubt, there is no doubt." Our author has my most profound gratitude for finding the courage to share his story to benefit our aviation community. The real question remains, could this have been you? Always, leave yourself an out.

Comments from
Jim Hein, Airworthiness SPM:

The true story on page one was sent into the HNL FSDO Safety Program by one of our readers. Although he identified himself, I elected to keep him anonymous because I want to focus more on the safety concerns. It took a lot of courage to share this, and the author presents a great opportunity to learn some valuable flying lessons in the convenience, comfort, and safety of your home.

His descriptions of life and death feelings while being slammed by a weather squall over Hawaii Kai are vivid. I wanted to tighten the seat belt on my office chair as I read the account. It’s not the kind of experience that aviation was meant to be about; especially given that it was supposed to be a pleasure flight to get a Christmas present for his wife.

However, in the end analysis, this incident was completely avoidable. A chain of causal events and factors lead directly to every incident, accident, and fatality. It was good fortune for this airman that his life and aircraft were spared.

There’s an old adage …. “Safety comes from experience …. Experience comes from making mistakes, and Wisdom is the art of learning from other’s mistakes.” It would be wrong if we didn’t extract and review some lessons from this story. Immediately, there are about six lessons which jump out.

LESSON ONE: Personal Minimums. In all cases be sure that all of your flights are in compliance with all FAR’s. They’re the absolute minimum standards for safety. But be willing to make your own personal minimums just a bit more strict than the FAR minimum standards. Base your personal minimums on your experience levels, your currency levels, your health, your mental state, external environment and pressures, and the condition and abilities of the aircraft. The FAA Rules and Regulations are only minimums; if you set your personal minimum standards higher, then you’ll always be in compliance and you’ll greatly improve your chances of having a safe flight.

No one launches if they think there’s going to be an unsafe flight event.

LESSON TWO: Take control and be the expert you’re expected to be. Make judgments for a safe flight based on information from as many sources as possible. Be sure that you’re covered all of the required preflight planning.

LESSON THREE: Recognize that it is human nature to blame someone else and get past it. Be professional. If you make a flight and it ends safely and everyone loved it, be proud and take the credit for doing a great job. But review what went wrong as well as what went right. The perfect flight has yet to be flown. Then keep up the good work.

LESSON FOUR: If you make a flight and an unsafe condition occurred, be responsible and, again, take the credit for it. Then review what went wrong and take actions to prevent the condition from ever occurring again. If you don’t take this attitude toward unsafe operations, you are 100 times more likely to do it again. Because you got away with it once and nothing happened, it is human nature to think that you have some kind of control over it and that it isn’t unsafe for you. The more times you get away with unsafe operations, the more lackadaisical you become about seeing it as an unsafe condition. Eventually, it can come back to bite you hard - even fatally.

LESSON FIVE: If you take actions to prevent unsafe conditions reoccurring, you are taking a mind set that will direct you (and others) away from harm. In fact, teaching others about your experience and ways to avoid it for themselves not only helps them but helps you by further solidifying your personal lesson.

LESSON SIX: In addition to telling others your experience, seek out the advice and experience of others. Every airman has something to teach every other airman. This is true from the first pre-solo student pilot right up to the commercial, ATP pilot. Maintenance technicians are no exception to this either.

Remember; pilots and mechanics make “go/no-go” and “yes/no” aviation safety decisions every day. When those decisions are compromised, accidents and incidents occur and people can get hurt or die.

Maybe there are some things you thought or felt while you were reading this story or comments. Maybe you’d like to share some of those thoughts with us.

You can write out your stories or reactions and send them in or you can call them in to either of the Safety Program Managers. You can be anonymous if you like, or you can tell us who you are. Either way, your sharing will be appreciated.