December 17 1903 is a date all pilots should know as the day of the world’s first powered flight by the Wright brothers. In the lead-up to the 100th anniversary of that landmark date I found myself thinking wouldn’t it be great to have that historic date, in abbreviated form, in my log book? 17-12-03 - the anniversary of the first powered flight - and me flying 100 years to the day later. It’d look decidedly cool, and would be something to proudly tell people about when I get older.
A few days before December 17 2003, I thought it would be a fantastic idea to fly on the day so I could have that log book entry; however, my single-minded desire to achieve this almost had a very different cause for that date to be recorded.
Having been a FIFO (Fly In, Fly Out) mine worker for many years, I was accustomed to sometimes being rushed near the end of my R&R week to get everything done before I fly back to work. This instance was the day before ‘Fly Out Day’ and the idea of flying 100 years to the day had kind of possessed me.
I quickly ring to book an aircraft once the idea had gelled in my mind, and in hindsight things may have started unraveling then. I couldn’t get the aircraft I wanted, when I wanted, so I settle for something else and a time slot much later in the day than I like to fly in summer.
December is when things start heating up and this particular day at Jandakot started out at 16.9°C before winding its way up to 35.1°C. Put those conditions inside a Cessna 152 Aerobat on the apron and taxiways and who knows how hot it gets.
With my mind focused on what I had to do later to prepare for returning to work, coupled with my obsession to fly on a day and time when I normally wouldn’t and the fact I had only around 13 hours pilot in command time on a GFPT, another nagging thought starts forming in the back of my mind. I remembere my ab initio CPL instructor’s strict words: “NEVER rush, NEVER fly just for the sake of things, and slow down”.
If only that voice echoing in my head had spoken a little louder.
After doing the run up checks and taxiing around with the door open trying to get some relief from the heat, I queue at the holding point for what seems like hours. Finally I get clearance from the tower and start rolling onto the centreline.
The performance of a C152A combined with a hot day and bumpy conditions that can sometimes go way above 3000 feet make departing and climbing to the training area slow and uncomfortable. In fact, it is so undesirable that once I reach the training area I decide to head back.
After dialing up the ATIS, I make my call at ‘Sixes’ (Six South) and as is always my habit, I request to join for circuits after noting the wind had changed and operations were now on Runways 06L and 06R – left for arrivals and departures and right for circuits. After some silence the standard reply is given and I continue my approach to Forrestdale Lake, the next radio waypoint.
Making the call at Forrestdale Lake, I receive my frequency change and height instructions and fly my approach to overfly at 1500 feet, while doing my BUMFH checks en route. All the while I am bouncing around and the engine is making that sickening sound when you get pushed 50 feet up and down with the thermals and gusts and ‘wings level’ is nearly impossible. It is then that I suddenly hear my call sign and instructions to descend and join the circuit on late downwind. As I’m doing this the combination of heat, bouncing around, inattention, and the desire to have ‘that’ log book entry get the better of me and things begin unraveling even faster.
I start a running conversation with myself in my head: “Join late downwind, okay, I will make a left turn now. Gee, I am pretty high; better make this a steep descent turn. Hang on, am I going the right way?”
Doubt starts creeping in. I have not been given any traffic to follow as I am going to be ‘number one’ in the circuit. Did I enter the circuit in the way I was expected to?
“No, I don’t think I am, keep turning, make it a 270° turn,” I assure myself.
It must have been then that the tower spotted what would have surprised them, and more than likely given their hearts a hell of a jump-start too. There I was, just about to level out at 1000 feet and feeling proud of myself for completing a 270° descending turn to join the circuit. I was all smiles, but there was one minor erroneous detail I had somehow glossed over – I was flying the circuit in the wrong direction!
My headset bursts to life: “Make right turn, make right turn, NOW,” comes the due rant from the tower.
I continue the turn without ever hitting wings level and end up doing a 450° turn away from the circuit. The other aircraft in the circuit is a Mooney, which whizzes by behind me as it had been turning onto downwind as I joined in the wrong direction.
I finish my circuit re-entry and make my downwind calls, making another poor decision by asking for a touch and go instead of a full stop. I am suffering from shock at what has just happened and am trying to make sense of it all when the tower calls me saying a representative from the company I had rented the aircraft from has asked me to make a full stop instead. As it turns out, the Mooney pilot is an instructor from the same school as me. I duly comply and land uneventfully.
Whilst waiting to cross Runway 06L, I sheepishly shrink down into my seat and wish I could snap my fingers and disappear. The shame, the confusion, the stupid idea to get ‘that’ log book entry, the rushed approach, the million airmanship rules I broke!
As I finish tying down the aircraft and stand up to walk back to the clubhouse the instructor from the Mooney appears in front of me. We chat and the main point he makes is about my decision to ask for a touch and go in light of what had just happened.
Looking back, I am very grateful that things were discussed privately on the apron and not in public. Although apart from the tower, the instructor and his student, no one else would have known I suspect as it was never recorded as an official incident as separation standards were not broken and I was ‘dealt with’ suitably by an instructor.
I learnt many new things that day, and other things that I already knew immediately gained more resonance. I now use this day as an example of how things can go wrong through what I call ‘bloody-mindedness’, rushing, fussing, not seeking clarification, and not doing things for the right reasons. I have cancelled many flights since that day after recognising similar ‘symptoms’ starting to rear their ugly heads. I have since gone on to fly faster and more nimble things since then, but I have never stopped learning and applying all the things I was taught during the ab initio stage of my training. And at every opportunity I pass on the lessons I have learnt to any pilot who will listen.
December 17 2003, or 17-12-03. That number could have been recorded in a very different book, and in many other books, instead of being that ‘cool’ number in my log book.
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