Chapter 3 Part 2 Charlie's Check Ride

Lizard in Costa Rica - photo by JoAnn Sturman

by S.R. Oberst

Charlie's check ride woes continue as he shows he is incompetent at any speed or altitude.


Although lasting only 50 minutes, it seemed like an eternity of instrument flying time. Charlie completed his second instrument approach, turned the controls over to me, and directed me to fly west to the planned area for the simulated search pattern. For his simulation Charlie picked a spot on the map as the last known location of a missing hiker. Upon arrival Charlie took the controls and began an expanding square search pattern. Expanding square search patterns begin at the probable location of the target and expand outward in concentric squares. Accurate navigation is required to monitor the aircraft’s position in the pattern. Charlie’s lack of rescue training and inattention to detail was apparent to me, but what about SK? Again Charlie failed to allow for the wind, and the pattern would have missed any poor, lost hiker who had gone north of the last known position. Charlie, however, declared the search a success. He stated that the lost hiker was in a clearing and would require extraction from the air with the rescue hoist. Charlie entered a high hover about 100 feet above the clearing and struggled mightily to hold the aircraft in position while our flight engineer, Sgt. Cable, lowered the rescue device and completed the simulated pick-up. During this “rescue” mission, I thought to myself that the lost hiker was lucky he was simulated and not real.

All this time SK had been sitting in the jump seat without taking notes. Since he had the helmet sun visor down, it was impossible to tell where his eyes were fixed. As we headed back to the base, SK finally spoke, “Let’s go by the emergency practice field for some EPs (emergency procedures).”
“What?” croaked Charlie, “EPs aren’t part of this evaluation!”
“They are, if I say they are,” SK replied.

As we approached the emergency practice field, SK told Charlie to land. We only allowed to do emergency procedures with an instructor or evaluator at the controls, so once we landed SK switched seats with me. I’ll never forget the next 20 minutes as long as I live. The first emergency procedure was a hydraulics off landing. For this EP, the helicopter hydraulic system actually was switched off. Most pilots found this to be a relatively simple EP, but you needed to remember not to fly too slow on the approach to landing, because the aircraft became difficult to control. Over compensating Charlie came in too fast and just as we were about to touch down at over 50 knots, SK thankfully took the controls. He simultaneously turned the hydraulics back on and climbed away from the landing area. Charlie blurted, “Why did you do that?”
SK merely replied, “You have the controls. Let’s go around and try a manual fuel approach.”

I should interject here, that for normal flight the F model Huey has a fuel system that automatically compensates for changes in the position of the collective control which is used to increase or decrease power. However, should the automatic fuel system fail, there is a manual fuel system. This system involves a switch on the head of the collective that moves up or down to increase or decrease the amount of fuel going to the engine. It requires the pilot to anticipate changes in power settings with an appropriate increase or decrease of the manual fuel button. Every F model Huey seems to have a manual fuel system with its own idiosyncrasies.

It took practice to master a manual fuel landing on any F model Huey, but the manual fuel system on Beaver 72 was notoriously fickle. I knew from previous practice flights it had a manual fuel system from hell. It seemed to store up pilot inputs with no corresponding change in operating RPM and then all of a sudden the inputs would kick in and the RPMs would increase wildly, requiring rapid pilot flight control adjustments. Charlie never practiced manual fuel landings and was unaware of the potential problem.

Charlie took off to fly a traffic pattern and set up for a manual fuel approach and landing. Once in manual fuel, Charlie appropriately set up a long shallow approach for a running or slide landing. If a pilot accurately anticipated the need to pull up the collective at the bottom of the approach, he would bump the manual fuel switch up just enough to increase the fuel in synchrony with the need for power. Charlie anticipated this need with several bumps up, but the manual fuel on old Beaver 72 seemed to ignore him, so Charlie kept applying more bumps. I sat there in the jump seat knowing what was going to happen. Suddenly, all of those stored bumps took effect and the engine started to accelerate quickly. Over the intercom I yelled, “RPM!” Charlie momentarily froze. Thankfully SK did not. He again took the controls with a sharp command, “I’ve got the controls,” and simultaneously pulled up the collective control to avoid an engine over-speed. He re-engaged the automatic fuel system and then completed the approach to landing at the practice field. Calmly SK said “Okay, Charlie, you have the controls back.”

The next emergency procedure was known as a hovering autorotation. It was done by holding the aircraft stationary at 5 feet above the ground and freeing the engine from the transmission by rapidly turning the throttle to the idle position. Good hovering “autos” result in a well timed increase of the collective control and a soft touchdown. Charlie must have been a mental wreck by now, so it was no surprise that he pulled the collective up too early, resulting in a free fall from 5 feet. We were over grass and no damage was done to the aircraft, but it was a poorly executed, sloppy maneuver.

The last EP was the basic straight ahead autorotation from 500 feet above the ground. Charlie had yet to deal correctly with the wind. The landing direction was 300 degrees and the winds were now about 20 knots at about 340 degrees. Since he would not be heading directly into the wind, Charlie needed to compensate for this fact. Normally at about 75 to 100 feet above the ground the pilot begins to flare the aircraft to slow the forward speed and descent. If you are directly into the wind, you can start your flare lower. But, if the wind is light or there is a crosswind you will need to start flaring earlier. Charlie must not have recognized the strength of the crosswind, so he started his flare too late. Needing a more aggressive flare to slow the aircraft, Charlie pulled back on the cyclic stick. As you guessed it, since he preferred to sit with the pilot seat as far forward as possible, the stick hit him in the stomach. He was forced to abandon the maneuver, add power, and go around for another attempt.

Overcompensating on the second attempt, Charlie flared too early and too high for a successful completion. If it had been a real engine failure or forced landing, we would not have walked away. SK had seen enough. He took the controls from Charlie and flew us back to the helipad next to the unit hangar.

In the debriefing room Charlie was uncharacteristically quiet. SK debriefed me first. He said I had done a good job with copilot duties during the instrument flight and simulated search and rescue mission. He said my crew discipline was excellent, noted my frequent intercom announcements to assist the pilot, and that I had made the “best of a difficult situation”. He then thanked me for the assertive “RPM” call during the manual fuel approach. I was excused from the debriefing room at that point, so I will never know what was said to Charlie about the check ride. However, as I was leaving the room I did hear SK start the debriefing by saying, “First of all, Captain Crown, that lieutenant is no dummy and he probably saved you from...” I closed the door.