EMT® "Survivors" Page
Although the EMT® Program is a
highly educational and rewarding experience in its
own right, it is designed with real-life emergencies
in mind. Below, four pilots describe emergency
scenarios they encountered some time after
participating in the EMT® Program.
These stories share a number of
common traits: they involve real pilots, flying real
airplanes, in real emergencies. While the successful
outcomes described below cannot be attributed solely
to the techniques taught in the EMT® Program --
piloting skill, knowledge of the airplanes and
procedures, judgment, proficiency, etc. are all
involved -- the pilots do acknowledge the role EMT®
played during the emergencies.
Survivor
Story #1 -- Survivor Story #2
-- Survivor Story
#3 -- Survivor
Story #4 -- Survivor Story #5
Survivor
Story #1 -- Engine Failure
Jim Skogen from Minnesota e-mailed:
I'm at the keyboard trying to write
about my engine out experience and how it relates to
your EMT® program. I've also reread the power plant
failure chapter in your book. It's all very good
material and relates to the engine out in my T-34.
Even though I have practiced and instructed others
what to do with power loss on climb out, that natural
urge to make it back to the runway remains very
strong. But with simulated engine out practice, a
pilot can learn the visual references that will
indicate if the runway truly is within glide range.
Jim's
beautiful T-34 w/ smoke on
We have been using the 180-degree
power off glide to the runway exercise along with 360
overhead approaches in the T-34. Both maneuvers are
good ways to establish and trim for best glide speed,
while visually memorizing the sight picture needed to
make the runway. The instant a pilot realizes that
the runway cannot be reached, quick actions are
needed to select an alternate landing site.
Practice is the only way to develop
the visual cues. Most of the EMT® lessons end with
180-degree, power off glides to the runway -- an
excellent way to develop and to keep current with the
skills required to glide to a runway. Practicing this
glide-to-the-runway with students was a key element
in the successful end to my engine failure.
Establishing best glide speed by pushing the stick
forward and trimming to maintain it was automatic for
me.
All the topics in your book,
including wind, bank angle, best glide speed, spot,
set-up are important, but practicing those procedures
is most important. In my situation, it was only 45
seconds to a minute from hearing the bang until I
touched down on the runway. There is very little time
to think, you just have to react. Making the right
reactions can only come from practice, and staying
current in the procedures.
It has been a little difficult to
write of my engine out experience. As I try to
remember the order of things, my heart still starts
to race and the order of things all seem to run
together. I must say from the start that the things I
did were more reactions than a conscious thought
process, thanks to repeated practice with the
procedures.
It was a Sunday afternoon in May with
a south wind at 15 knots. I pulled the T-34 out of
the hangar, thinking that the plane had been running
exceptionally well lately. It was just going to be a
local flight around the farms, maybe 45 minutes.
Departing runway 16, I climbed straight out and
turned right 45 degrees to depart the pattern. At
this point, I was 800 ft AGL and maybe 3/4 mile off
the runway. I started to bring back the prop for
cruise-climb, setting up for 100 knots when I heard a
loud bang. I was not sure where it came from and
thought I had hit a bird.
Immediately a vibration started and I
smelled smoke. I knew I was in trouble and did not
want to believe this was happening to me -- fear and
panic for a split second. Without even thinking, I
had already turned another 45 degrees to the right.
Talk about the strong instinct to get back to the
runway! I tried adding power, but the vibration only
worsened. So I just left the throttle alone while
establishing the best glide speed of 90 knots.
At this point, I realized it might be
best to make an off airport landing. I took a quick
glance to the end of the runway and noticed it was
under the imaginary "glide" arc around the
cowling, indicating it was within gliding distance.
The prop was still turning but the engine was
producing no power. Turning directly to the runway
from my present position, I would intercept the
extended centerline at about a 30-degree angle. There
was no relative motion between the runway numbers and
a spot on my windshield, indicating I was going to
make it. While glancing to check best glide speed, I
also noticed the oil pressure needle dropping to
zero.
I crossed the end of runway at 20
feet, put the gear down, and turned the last 30
degrees to line up with the centerline. With a
15-knot tail wind and still gliding at 90 knots, I
was using up a lot of runway. At this point I wanted
to get the plane on the ground -- I used no flaps and
I forced the airplane onto the runway, applying hard
brakes. I came to a stop about 3/4 the way down the
runway and noticed the prop had stopped.
My heart was really pounding now and
I wanted to get out of the plane. After making sure
there was no fire, I noticed oil streaming down both
sides of the plane into puddles on the runway. There
was no one else at the airport that day, but a car
stopped on a nearby road. I waved at the car and he
drove off. I walked up to the hangar, got my tow bar
and rope, and pulled the plane off the runway with my
pickup. It was then that I realized I had made a
successful engine out landing.
A piston had cracked and separated
from the connecting rod. The connecting rod then came
through the crankcase allowing the oil to exit the
engine.
The hole
blown in the crankcase
Close up
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Survivor
Story #2 -- Unintentional
Flat Spin
The October 1992 issue of Sport Aerobatics magazine
published the following, which was submitted by an
IAC member from Indonesia:
Enclosed photo shows the broken
throttle Teleflex of our Pitts S-1E, caused by
improper installation. The incident occurred while
performing aerobatics at 3500 feet AGL. While
entering an inverted spin from inverted the pilot
noticed that despite closing the throttle, the
aircraft's speed did not bleed off as quickly as
normal. Not noticing that partial power existed,
despite closed throttle, the pilot continued entry
into the spin by holding the nose higher to bleed of
speed.
The broken
Teleflex from the Pitts
Somewhat surprised by the resulting
inverted flat spin, the pilot initiated recovery
using Rich Stowell's PARE® system:
Power : off
Aileron : neutral
Rudder : opposite
Elevator : thru neutral
The problem which caused delayed but
eventual recovery was that closing the throttle did
not take power off because of the broken Teleflex. If
the pilot had been able to recognize that partial
power was stuck on, he should have pulled the
mixture. However, having taken Rich Stowell's EMT®
course, the pilot was confident in his spin recovery
control inputs and held them in despite the delay in
recovery. Had the pilot been in doubt and reversed
his control inputs, he would have become another
"spun in" statistic.
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Survivor
Story #3 -- Stuck Elevator
Control
Jim Cunningham from California wrote:
After completing the EMT® and
Aerobatic course with Rich Stowell I purchased a
Great Lakes Biplane. Some time later, while
performing a hammerhead turn over the local aerobatic
area, the course paid for itself many times over.
Jim's Great
Lakes on takeoff
I executed the hammerhead the same as
I had on many previous occasions, with a full power
90-degree climb. At the top of the maneuver, left
rudder, forward elevator, and right aileron are
applied. I make it a habit to retard the throttle
after the pivot, once the 90-degree down line is
established.
I pulled the stick back to finish the
maneuver. When I reached straight and level flight, I
attempted to neutralize the stick, but it was jammed.
In an instant I went through level flight and
continued climbing until I was in a 25-degree climb.
Rich and I had practiced recovery
from jammed control surfaces. Two things immediately
occurred to me: The first was that I had a jammed
elevator; the second was that I knew I could control
the airplane in this condition. I immediately
retarded the power until the plane was straight and
level. I did not want to move the stick because I did
not want the condition to worsen. The airport was
about seven miles from my present location, so I flew
back toward the field controlling pitch (and
therefore my altitude) with power only, taking great
care not to move the stick.
My home airport is an uncontrolled
field, and I was set up for a straight-in approach.
However, I felt confident in my ability to control
the airplane that I decided to fly a broad,
conventional pattern. (In retrospect, I think I would
opt for the straight-in approach if I were ever in
the same situation again.)
On final approach I continued to
control pitch with power. I landed without incident,
taxied to my hangar, and shut down the engine. I was
still holding the stick in the configuration it was
in when it initially jammed. I let go of the stick,
and instead of dropping forward, it remained in the
same position. Subsequent inspection by me revealed
that my small, five-inch flashlight had somehow
gotten under the floorboard and tumbled into the back
of the airplane. It had jammed the bell crank,
immobilizing the elevator.
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Survivor
Story #4 -- Engine Failure
J.C. from Michigan faxed:
This note is long overdue, but I did
want to follow up on the training you provided --
with some examples of the practical value I received
when you visited Pontiac.
First, it wasn't long after you were
gone when I was demonstrating a half loop to someone
in the back seat when I fell out into an inverted
spin. Other than the extreme increase in heart rate,
I PARE'ed it without a problem -- my friend thought
it was just part of the plan! Two weeks ago, it was
my great misfortune to experience engine failure on
final (after a great hour of hammerhead practice). Of
course I was lined up on the worst runway possible
(04), needing to cross the power lines, busy highway,
and close fences without any go around insurance.
Obviously a good ending BUT it may have been much
different had I not been practicing the EMT®
techniques you taught and reinforced....
Decathlon
before Hammerhead
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Survivor
Story #5 -- Engine Failure
Claude Stahel from Switzerland e-mailed:
Thanks for saving my life, Rich!
Figuratively, you were right there with me when I was
flying back home from Paris in February. I was
climbing over the last mountain of the trip, about
2000 feet above the ground, listening to some Led Zeppelin
on my Walkman. I had just left army-controlled
airspace and had dialed Reims into my radio. The
throttle was firewalled for the climb, and I was
storing away my maps and other gear since I knew the
way home from here.
Suddenly I heard a metallic ping-ping
sound, and it seemed as though the prop was no longer
rotating along the airplane's centerline! I pushed
the mixture forward and eased the throttle back an
inch hoping for a smoother ride. Things smoothed out
all right -- the prop immediately stopped! I set the
trim of the Cessna 150 full-nose-up, as you had
suggested during our training. Then I became aware of
the adrenaline rush. It seemed to hit me in a flash.
I figured, "Ok, now is not the time to keep
listening to my Walkman," so I pulled the stuff
out of my ears. Strangely, my next thought was,
"Ok Claude, now you can prove what you learned
in the US..."
The terrain in this location is not
all that airplane-friendly -- lots of forest with
some small cow fields at least. I tried to find the
nearest airport on my GPS, but got lost in the menus
while pushing buttons. I decided to just look around
for a field instead. I chose a grassy field to my
left, about 1500 feet long. A row of trees along the
approach end. Some cows. No powerlines. All-in-all a
manageable site. I had a nice tailwind and was too
high to begin the approach just yet.
I then made an emergency call to Reims.
They asked me if this was a simulated event.
"Negative!" My exact position? Oops -- I
had put away my map.Forget trying to unfold the map
now: "I'm between Becancsang and Montbelliard."
By now I was turning the airplane toward my field,
but I was still too high. The controller was asking a
lot of questions, to the point of distraction. I
said, "Sir , I can't talk anymore. I've got to
concentrate on landing this airplane."
Silence...
My strategy was to fly to the key
point, where I would turn onto the base leg. From
there I could make additional judgments about my
altitude, with the option either to shorten or
lengthen the base leg prior to turning final just as
you describe in your book. The airplane was still in
the clean configuration. "Speed--spot--attitude"
were the only things I was thinking. I remember
holding the yoke with two fingers. NOT pulling back
was super clear in my head. I did not allow the
airspeed to fade one bit below 60. Over the trees I
deployed full flaps, pushing the nose down a little
before pulling in the flare. I touched down with the
stall horn going off, keeping the yoke fully aft for
a couple of seconds before applying hard brakes.
I knew that every knot slower during
the ground roll would get me on the safer side should
the airplane hit a rock or something. The noise of
the front wheel bouncing across the bumpy field was
extreme. Even the ELT went off. The cows got bigger
in the windscreen, but thankfully I got stopped
before hitting any of them.
I called the tower by mobile phone to
close my flight plan, asking them to call Reims to
let them know everything turned out great. Thanks for
helping me understand glide dynamics -- without this
knowledge, my decision-making could have been fatally
flawed.
That's my story. I hope my experience
helps other pilots. P.S.: Now I have a Maule.
Claude's
off-airport landing makes the local paper
