Breaking the Accident Chain

Jay Honeck

Jay Honeck

Touchdown! Greaser!
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Jay Honeck
In this case, the developing chain was long and insidious.

We are moving to Mustang Island, Texas, to start a new aviation themed motel there. To say it's been a period of high stress would be an understatement. "Busy" has been the norm, with very little flying, contributing to my stress level. (Just ask Mary how I get when I can't fly for extended periods...)

Our buyer backed out at the last minute. More stress. We decide to keep the hotel in Iowa City, too. Hire, promote, train lots of new people, fast.

The seller of the motel in Texas has turned out to be sorta bipolar. What you think you've agreed to yesterday means nothing today. Unless it's in writing, everything is a lie. More stress...

We finally get out of Iowa City this morning. Supposed to leave at oh-dark-thirty. It's impossible to leave your home of 13 years quickly, and we don't get off the ground until almost 9 AM. More stress.

I've got a cold that is just kicking my butt. Can't take meds if I want to fly -- more stress.

The winds are absolutely howling out of the South. We know it's going to take many hours longer than normal. More stress.

Mary takes the first leg. Our usual stopover point on this trip, Ft. Smith, ARK, turns out to have its North/South runway closed for construction. This means a wicked crosswind landing. More stress.

Mary decides to divert to Rogers, ARK, with a perfectly aligned runway. Great choice, nice people, extremely high gas prices -- but restaurant on the field. We end up taking too long for lunch. Now we're really up against it for time. More stress.

I take the next (and final) leg. We climb to 6500 feet, and watch our groundspeed decay to 95 knots. That's a 50+ mph headwind. (Atlas normally trues out at about 140 knots.) More stress, but at least its a smooth ride.

South of Rogers, we cross the Ozark mountains. Although it's absolutely smooth, persistent down and updrafts make holding altitude lots of fun. Holding 6500 feet means airspeeds from 85 to 110 knots, in continual adjustment to the down/up drafts. More stress.

Time drags on. We've got 84 gallons of fuel on board, or 6 hours. That's about 3 hours beyond what we really want to ever accomplish, but we persist. As the fifth hour of grinding along at <100 knots begins, we are facing several problems:

1. Fuel. We've now got JUST enough to get to Ingleside, Atlas' new home, with a 30 minute reserve. This leaves little margin for error.

2. It's getting dark. Neither of us are night current, but we should make it with time to spare.

3. Weather is deteriorating. It's still marginal VFR on the coast, just 60 miles away, but barely.

4. We're in our 8th hour of flying, and my cold is just kicking my butt. Fatigue is becoming a major factor.

5. Wind. I will be facing a gusty 30-knot crosswind in Ingleside, our destination ahead. At the end of a long flight, in diminishing light, with low fuel deteriorating ceilings and visibility.

6. Get-There-Itis. We prepositioned our motor home on the island, and our truck at the airport. Atlas' nice, new hangar is all ready for him. All we have to do is just press on sixty more miles -- only 60! -- and save the hassle and expense of a motel and rental car. It's just SO close...

As we approach Victoria, TX, with it's three big runways, neatly aligned with any wind -- the LAST airport before the coast -- I decide it's time to break the accident chain that I can feel being uleashed beneath me. A good friend of mine died after overflying a perfectly good airport, and running out of fuel, and I've read enough NTSB reports to know that this often happens right before the poor pilot augers in due to fuel exhaustion.

I landed uneventfully, and am writing this from my comfy motel room. Sure, it's not where we wanted to be for the night, but we've had a marvelous dinner, met some fascinating people at the airport (flying a Diamond TwinStar, also heading to the island), and are about to soak in the hot tub -- so it's all good.

All of which sure beats the potential alternatives. There is always tomorrow, or even the next day, to get there...
 
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Excellent choice.
 
Sounds like you madethe right decision. Must have been hard to stop only 60 miles short, but again the right decision. Enjoy the hot tub, I am sure it is a lot better than a fiery crash scene!!!
 
Good story Jay - You made it safely and made a good decision. I'd be willing to bet that stress added to your making the right decision.

Having significant experience flying in that part of the world, I can assure you that it's easy to go from clear to crippling ground fog in a matter of minutes after dark. I nearly didn't make it back into SSF one night when tower indicated that the field was IFR, yet I could see all the runway and approach lights on final. There was a thin layer about 100' off the runway - and no thicker than 25 feet at the time.... yet I could see all the approach and runway lighting. By the time I got the plane into the hangar the ground fog was so thick that there was less than 50' of horizontal visibility.

You're safe and comfortable. Very good choice.
 
I love you, man.

And I guarantee you, Atlas will look beautiful in the morning, rested, relaxed and ready to take you home.
 
The decision you made is never wrong. Good job and enjoy the night.
 
YOU WIMP!

Ha no serioulsy Jay that was a great write up! And obviously a great choice. There is a satisfaction that I get when making the right decision even if its not the one you had hoped for. Enjoy the rest and the final leg will be a relaxed one..
 
Good call...

I flew to work and back yesterday. Arrived at the airport at 1730 -- winds were gusting to 20, varying 60 degrees. Wouldn't think twice in a larger airplane -- but the Chief?

So I stood on the ramp and waited, and waited....

My cutoff time was 1830. If I couldn't startup and launch by 1840, I'd spend the night in a hotel with shuttle service.

Winds seemed to be dying around 1815. I hand propped, taxied to the active, lined up, felt some gusts, added power gradually, tail came up -- no weathervaning. Good.

The 40 minute flight home was fairly smooth, the crosswinds 90 degrees at 7 at home airport. Time to test the grass.

A perfectly smooth touchdown right where I wanted it. Put the airplane away, drove home, slept well.

I think a huge part of aviator maturity is knowing when to not go, and when to land -- even though it's inconvenient.

:yesnod:
 
I spot three things wrong at the beginning of a flight, no matter how small, I scrub. I hope I have the wisdom to make the right decision in flight. Well done.
 
Jay Honeck said:
In this case, the developing chain was long and insidious.
Click to expand...

Thanks for sharing, Jay. You made the right decision. I have seen the chain in action on numerous occasions over the last 34 years. I have usually made the right decision, but not always.

For instance on a very dark night flight over darkest Missouri, I had planned to have a 45 minute reserve at our refueling airport.

The headwind began earlier in the flight than expected. Reserve was then down to 30 minutes.

We arrived at the airport. I gave the mic 5 clicks a couple times, and the runway lights would not come on. Turns out that it was one that took 7 clicks. I knew some took 7 to change intensity, but had never run into one in my years of flying that took 7 to turn on, so that didn't even cross my mind. There was an airport where lights stayed on continuously 12 minutes away, so rather than waste my 30 minutes of dwindling fuel troubleshooting lights I headed there.

The link in the chain that I was not aware of at the time is that I had incorrectly remembered flying 2.3 instead of 2.6 hours on the previous flight. The 30 minutes I thought I had was 10. The first tank went dry almost immediately and the second 4 miles short of the airport (exactly when it should have). By the grace of God we made it to a highway and set down with no damage to us or the plane. Passed under a power line on roll out. Another circle at the first airport and we'd have ended up in a black hole of lakes and trees.

Could have been so easily prevented. Should have been so much worse. The Highway Patrol and FAA were wonderful. A letter listing my "violations" was put in my file and expunged 2 years later.

Never, never let the little things pile up. They gnaw away at your survival.
 
bbchien said:
Life stress is really really something.....
Click to expand...

That is a statement that is just oh-so true.

It's amazing how stress sneaks up on you. In our case, we've worked on this deal for over a year now. As the work-load went up, I gradually started to exercise less, eat later (and faster) meals, go to bed later, and get up earlier.

Aches and pains increased with loss of muscle tone. Headaches due to lack of sleep become more frequent. Indigestion (due to stress and eating less-healthy meals later in the day) became the norm. Add to this just plain old aging, and you quickly discover how unhealthy stress can be.

Given all these factors, plus a nasty cold, plus a long, long day of flying, I'm confident that I made the right decision to land short. In fact, we're having such a good time here in Victoria that we just extended our stay another day -- even though it looks like we could fly the last 60 miles this afternoon!

I call it "Stress relief". Ah, the hot tub... :yesnod:
 
geneseib said:
Thanks for sharing, Jay. You made the right decision. I have seen the chain in action on numerous occasions over the last 34 years. I have usually made the right decision, but not always.

For instance on a very dark night flight over darkest Missouri, I had planned to have a 45 minute reserve at our refueling airport. <Snip of great-but-scary story...>
Click to expand...

Wow, Gene -- that's incredible. You've described my absolute worst-case scenario, and lived to tell about it. Every day after that one must feel like a gift!
 
good decision but i have to ask, how was the hotel?

the wind was definitely howling yesterday. and you are right about the smooth up and downdrafts in the ozarks. One fellow yesterday in Talihina, OK just across the arkansas border, climbed to 17,800 in wave yesterday!
 
dmccormack said:
I think a huge part of aviator maturity is knowing when to not go, and when to land -- even though it's inconvenient.
Click to expand...

Exactly. The willingness to look like a "chicken" in front of others is the key to survival. IMHO too many pilots die every year, simply because of the fear of looking less-than-brave, only to then open themselves up to posthumous ridicule.

I'd rather be "made fun of" whilst alive, thanks. :yikes:
 
i have to ask, how was the hotel?
Click to expand...

Nice. It's a generic Best Western, but with most of the stuff I need. (One major *****: A ONE CUP coffee maker? Augh!) Good wireless internet, a fairly comfy bed. Outrageously expensive ($108 for a basic king room?), but last night it was "any port in a storm"...

the wind was definitely howling yesterday. and you are right about the smooth up and downdrafts in the ozarks. One fellow yesterday in Talihina, OK just across the arkansas border, climbed to 17,800 in wave yesterday!
Click to expand...

Yeah, that was really something. What made it so remarkable was how smoothly everything happened. One minute I'd be grinding along at 100 knots, straight and level into the teeth of that huge headwind. Then, I'd slowly have to start pulling back to maintain altitude.

Ground speed would decay to (as low as) 75 knots. Then, in a minute or two, I'd have to start pushing forward in order to maintain 6500 feet.

Gradually, ground speed would pick up to (as much as) 110 knots. Then, in a minute or two, we'd start the whole process over again.

All without a single bump. Weird. I've been in mountain waves like that before, but they are usually turbulent.
 
Jay Honeck said:
Exactly. The willingness to look like a "chicken" in front of others is the key to survival. IMHO too many pilots die every year, simply because of the fear of looking less-than-brave, only to then open themselves up to posthumous ridicule.

I'd rather be "made fun of" whilst alive, thanks. :yikes:
Click to expand...

Good call Jay. I wouldn't call you chicken for good decision making.
 
mountain wave, by definition, is laminar flow. very smooth. most power pilots associate mountain wave activity with the rotor which is usually quite turbulent, but exists under the crest of the actual wave.
 
Decided to wait it out one more day in Victoria. When it takes 15 minutes to get a flight briefing for a 45 minute flight, it's probably best to keep it on the ground.
 
Jay Honeck said:
Yeah, that was really something. What made it so remarkable was how smoothly everything happened. One minute I'd be grinding along at 100 knots, straight and level into the teeth of that huge headwind. Then, I'd slowly have to start pulling back to maintain altitude.

Ground speed would decay to (as low as) 75 knots. Then, in a minute or two, I'd have to start pushing forward in order to maintain 6500 feet.

Gradually, ground speed would pick up to (as much as) 110 knots. Then, in a minute or two, we'd start the whole process over again.

All without a single bump. Weird. I've been in mountain waves like that before, but they are usually turbulent.
Click to expand...

On the other hand, if you had pushed to descend in the down flow (get out of it quickly - minimize the loss) . And pulled to climb in the up flow (get max altitude (that can be converted to speed), max time in lift) you would have arrived sooner and used less fuel.

But, of course, that would be contrary to the "maintain constant altitude for no apparent reason" rule.
 
tonycondon said:
mountain wave, by definition, is laminar flow. very smooth. most power pilots associate mountain wave activity with the rotor which is usually quite turbulent, but exists under the crest of the actual wave.
Click to expand...

Interesting. Thanks for clarifying that to this "flat-lander" pilot.
 
Excellent call, and I'm gald to read aboout it here and not in the NTSB database.

Thanks for the writeup.
John
 
I am a "weather *****" Works great for me.
 
Welcome to POA, Mary! Glad that you're having a nice relaxing hot tub stop in Victoria :yesnod:

I have heard a saying: The cost of a cot is less than the cost of a coffin.

I figure if people make fun of a pilot who chooses to make a good decision based on their need and the situation then that pilot is possibly just projecting their own weakness. It takes a mature and capable PIC to make command decisions like you did.

Have fun once you get to your new home. Will you be staying there now or making yet another trip to Iowa before the opening?
 
Wishing you were up there is usually less hazardous. Better than the "that was STUPID" feeling...
 
Jay Honeck said:
In this case, the developing chain was long and insidious.

We are moving to Mustang Island, Texas, to start a new aviation themed motel there. To say it's been a period of high stress would be an understatement. "Busy" has been the norm, with very little flying, contributing to my stress level. (Just ask Mary how I get when I can't fly for extended periods...)

Our buyer backed out at the last minute. More stress. We decide to keep the hotel in Iowa City, too. Hire, promote, train lots of new people, fast.

The seller of the motel in Texas has turned out to be sorta bipolar. What you think you've agreed to yesterday means nothing today. Unless it's in writing, everything is a lie. More stress...

We finally get out of Iowa City this morning. Supposed to leave at oh-dark-thirty. It's impossible to leave your home of 13 years quickly, and we don't get off the ground until almost 9 AM. More stress.

I've got a cold that is just kicking my butt. Can't take meds if I want to fly -- more stress.

The winds are absolutely howling out of the South. We know it's going to take many hours longer than normal. More stress.

Mary takes the first leg. Our usual stopover point on this trip, Ft. Smith, ARK, turns out to have its North/South runway closed for construction. This means a wicked crosswind landing. More stress.

Mary decides to divert to Rogers, ARK, with a perfectly aligned runway. Great choice, nice people, extremely high gas prices -- but restaurant on the field. We end up taking too long for lunch. Now we're really up against it for time. More stress.

I take the next (and final) leg. We climb to 6500 feet, and watch our groundspeed decay to 95 knots. That's a 50+ mph headwind. (Atlas normally trues out at about 140 knots.) More stress, but at least its a smooth ride.

South of Rogers, we cross the Ozark mountains. Although it's absolutely smooth, persistent down and updrafts make holding altitude lots of fun. Holding 6500 feet means airspeeds from 85 to 110 knots, in continual adjustment to the down/up drafts. More stress.

Time drags on. We've got 84 gallons of fuel on board, or 6 hours. That's about 3 hours beyond what we really want to ever accomplish, but we persist. As the fifth hour of grinding along at <100 knots begins, we are facing several problems:

1. Fuel. We've now got JUST enough to get to Ingleside, Atlas' new home, with a 30 minute reserve. This leaves little margin for error.

2. It's getting dark. Neither of us are night current, but we should make it with time to spare.

3. Weather is deteriorating. It's still marginal VFR on the coast, just 60 miles away, but barely.

4. We're in our 8th hour of flying, and my cold is just kicking my butt. Fatigue is becoming a major factor.

5. Wind. I will be facing a gusty 30-knot crosswind in Ingleside, our destination ahead. At the end of a long flight, in diminishing light, with low fuel deteriorating ceilings and visibility.

6. Get-There-Itis. We prepositioned our motor home on the island, and our truck at the airport. Atlas' nice, new hangar is all ready for him. All we have to do is just press on sixty more miles -- only 60! -- and save the hassle and expense of a motel and rental car. It's just SO close...

As we approach Victoria, TX, with it's three big runways, neatly aligned with any wind -- the LAST airport before the coast -- I decide it's time to break the accident chain that I can feel being uleashed beneath me. A good friend of mine died after overflying a perfectly good airport, and running out of fuel, and I've read enough NTSB reports to know that this often happens right before the poor pilot augers in due to fuel exhaustion.

I landed uneventfully, and am writing this from my comfy motel room. Sure, it's not where we wanted to be for the night, but we've had a marvelous dinner, met some fascinating people at the airport (flying a Diamond TwinStar, also heading to the island), and are about to soak in the hot tub -- so it's all good.

All of which sure beats the potential alternatives. There is always tomorrow, or even the next day, to get there...
Click to expand...

Good job.
 
steingar said:
I spot three things wrong at the beginning of a flight, no matter how small, I scrub. I hope I have the wisdom to make the right decision in flight. Well done.
Click to expand...
My decision process is similar to that. Scrubbed a flight today for that very reason.

And Jay, it goes without saying (though we are all saying it anyway) that you made a great decision! And I really enjoyed the writeup.
 
Jay Honeck said:
Nice. It's a generic Best Western,
Click to expand...
You mean it's not a Holiday Inn Express? :rofl:

I'll tell you that I diverted yesterday too because the original destination went below mins with low visibility in snow. I had warned the passengers (9 of them) beforehand that it was a possibility so it wasn't a big deal. They already had transportation set up at both places.
 
Thanks for taking the time to share your story, Jay. It leaves an impact on me, this low time pilot looking to stretch his wings safely. Thank you, sincerely.

Jason
 
jpsmall said:
Thanks for taking the time to share your story, Jay. It leaves an impact on me, this low time pilot looking to stretch his wings safely. Thank you, sincerely.

Jason
Click to expand...

You're welcome.

And BTW: Don't hesitate to make continent-jumping VFR flights. With today's technology, a 1000 nm cross country is only slightly more adventuresome than a 50 mile one was just a few years ago.

Just think of it as a series of ten 100-mile flights, and you'll do fine. The country is just waiting for you to explore it!
 
I suppose you could have tried to request a block altitude to wrestle with the mountain wave. But it sounds like it would have been a pretty large block!
Thanks for the write-up. Obviously, you made a good decision.
:blueplane:
Welcome, Mary!
ApacheBob
 
Great write-up, Jay.

As I read this though and tried to put myself in your shoes, I think I would have failed the IM SAFE checklist long before; possibly before I left the ground. Leaving with so much stress I think would have impaired my pilot performance sufficiently to keep me from flying.
 
Jay Honeck said:
You're welcome.

And BTW: Don't hesitate to make continent-jumping VFR flights. With today's technology, a 1000 nm cross country is only slightly more adventuresome than a 50 mile one was just a few years ago.

Just think of it as a series of ten 100-mile flights, and you'll do fine. The country is just waiting for you to explore it!
Click to expand...

What Jay said! And cross country flight is the BEST way to learn more on your own.

Jay, good decision - And though it's very difficult to make the decision to divert and to decide where to divert to, once you've actually made the decisions it's a HUGE relief, isn't it?

Mary, welcome to the board! :)
 
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