• (Bill Wardle)
    (Bill Wardle)
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It was a glorious Saturday morning in April of 2004 and I was excited to get out in the aviators' "fenced-off playground" for some ring-around-the-rosy. This was my second solo session of circuit training.

I conducted a pre-flight for a C152 as usual, and my instructor came out behind me and did the same. All the checks went smoothly and we taxied out to the run-up bays on the southern side of Bankstown Airport. Again, all the run-up checks went well and soon enough we were off for a few dual circuits.

After my instructor was satisfied with the way things were going, we landed and taxied to the run-up bays and my instructor did some quick run-up checks before sending me out on my own again for three circuits.

My first solo was exciting yet uneventful, as you want it to be. It’s kind of strange having a spare seat next to you – there’s a tendency to whisper to yourself to fill the void. (See, you’re not the only mental case!)

Satisfied the aircraft was running as it should, my instructor sent me out with great confidence, and with that same confidence, off I went. By this time, I had to line up at the holding point as the busy little Bankstown playground was now bursting with aviation life. I got to the holding point, made the call, and as I lined up on Runway 29L a great sense of pride and terror filled my body with adrenalin and before I knew it I was quickly rocketing down the runway.

Without a cloud in the sky and just a light breeze in the air, there was no better conditions in which to enjoy time in the air with equally enthusiastic aviators. I conducted a touch and go and I was in the air again and doing what I was trained to do.

With the second touch and go cleared, the aircraft hit the pavement and, after the noise of the flaps retracting, I pushed the throttle in with a firm, smooth action to get rolling as the runway got shorter in front of me.

This time though, something didn’t sound like music, and as I continued to roll on down the runway I soon realised that my trusty little engine wasn’t enjoying a smooth ride. Coughing and spluttering, I could feel that some power was getting to the engine, just not as much as I was used to having. I frantically checked the carby heat, mixture, fuel pump, and temps and pressures to make sure everything was in its correct position and place. It all was, so what on earth was going on?

By this stage I had to make a decision, and with the runway coming to an end I had to either lift the nose or arrange a meeting with the boundary fence. The aircraft was hopelessly sluggish, and as it made a very slow and grumpy climb, I decided I had to tell the tower of my imminent pain or I could be putting all the circuit traffic in a terrible situation.

“Tower I have a problem with my engine,” I sheepishly said over the radio.

I must have sounded terrified, but I focused and had to get on with being a pilot and fly the aircraft and make a plan. Engine failure on upwind? Pick a place within 30° off either side of the nose to land and do your checks. But I did have some power, so what were my options in this partial engine failure on upwind event? I was hoping the engine wasn’t going to completely give up on me, so with the limited power available I levelled out at 300ft and started a shallow turn.

“I have an engine problem, turning crosswind back to the field,” was my call to a frantic tower trying to organise a lot of other traffic. I could hear the radio constantly going and I was concentrating on flying my aircraft and making a plan.

“ABC, can you make Runway 36?” was the reply from the tower.

“Yes, I’ll take Runway 36,” I shot back. As I completed the turn at 300ft I had the nose of the aircraft lined up with the centre runway. It looked very inviting, even though I was coming at it in the opposite direction.

“Can I take the centre runway?” was my next call to the hard-working tower trying to get everyone out of the way.

“ABC, that runway has traffic operating on it, continue for Runway 36,” I was instructed.

So I continued for Runway 36, which was fine, but I had to turn further to line myself up and by now I’m realising I have to descend very quickly if I’m going to make this rarely used short crossing runway. As I completed the turn I was well and truly past the threshold and now I needed to get this aircraft on the tarmac. I close the throttle, shove the nose down and touch down on the centreline about three quarters of the way down the runway!

I stared in front of me and now needed to make another decision – brake very heavily, or trust there are no holes in the grass beyond the runway and just keep rolling. I studied the few hundred feet in front of me and it looked okay, so I rolled over the opposite threshold and over the grass and settled her on the taxiway pavement all in one piece.

My last call to the tower was a very simple, “ABC has landed safely,”. And the relieved reply was, “ABC, copy that, and well done,”.

I shut the aircraft down and got out to greet the airport operations officer, which was good comfort to me. He then shot off to collect my instructor, who had seen the events unfold from where I left her. When she arrived I didn’t know what to expect, but to my comfort she stuck her hand out and congratulated me on my efforts. It was her efforts that got me out of this event. Her circuit emergency training was solid – it was almost annoying how intense her emergency training was.

It turns out that the aircraft lost a magneto and I was reduced to one. I was glad to hear it because had it been a complete engine failure it m have ended very differently. The tower did a fantastic job keeping everyone away from me. My instructor told me that she knew something was up when she saw the other circuit traffic overflying the runways, conducting go-arounds and then being kept at 1000ft in the circuit. Ground traffic came to a standstill and I felt like an injured Olympic marathon runner entering the main stadium in last place.

From this incident I earned a new respect for all emergency training and I happily got my GFPT just four months later. I now hold a PPL, and when I listen to student pilots going off to conduct circuit training I hope their instructor is as solid on circuit emergency training as mine was, because these days that much needed cross runway at Australia’s busiest airport is no longer there.

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