Flying Factors

Manawatu Times, Volume 61, Issue 141, 17 June 1936, Page 17

Flying Factors

PILOT COUNTS FOR MOST SKILL AND RESOURCE NEEDED BRINGING' IN THE SHIP As Congress has inquired into the safety of commercial airlines, following the accidents last year, two events have occurred which show that the final factor in safe flying is the skill, courage, and judgment of tho pilot,, writes Russell Owen in the New York Times. Despite tho reliability of engines, the strength' of aeroplanes, tho efficient ground organisation, and the weather service—all factors in transport llying—the human element; is still the most important iu a crisis. A pilot met a storm on his way north from Florida recently, was cut oil by it when lie turned back, and after lighting his way, blinded, with his radio out of order, ventured across to where lie thought there might be open weather. When he began to think he was lost he saw the flash of a lighthouse and set his aeroplane and passengers down safely. In the west another pilot ran into a storm which cut him offi; his radio became useless because of ‘ snow static”—caused by the impact of snow against tho metal surface of tho mac*iine—but after he had been driven nearly 100 miles off his course he found an emergency field and with the aid of his Hares brought his craft safely to land. Such incidents ns these help greatly to reassure tho air-travelling public. Tho pilots on airliucss of this country are probably the best in tho world, and against the few mistakes made by the loss resourceful —mistakes which bring frightful disaster —there may be . set oil scores of instances in which pilots kavo met emergencies with the skill and courago that distinguished them when they were flying tho night mail oyer mountains and through storms with little aid except a compass and a few ether simple instruments. The aeroplane pilot is much like tho captain of an ocean liner. Tho sea captain has at his command all the navigation aids that modern scienee can give him, but there arc times when, on a storm-swept bridge, ho must aepeud on his own iron nerve and the experience of years if ho is to save his ship. ' His Own Resources. iro the pilot, despite weather reports and radio, is sometimes on his own resources, and if ho comes through—as ho usually docs—it is because lie has a level head, and remembers tho vagaries of storms and tho ground over which he is passing. Good pilots develop an instinct for flying, sometimes which they cannot explain, but which com--altcr years of ploughing through an kinds of weather. But before a pilot is on his own in tho air a Jot of things must happen. The average air passenger has little knowledge of tho preparations for a safo flight of three or four hours over a division on a transcontinental trip. Let us see what occurs in connection with a flight from Cleveland to Newark —-both before and after tho takc-oll'. Tho pilot comes to the field an hour before. There arc many types of pilots, but they all have one quality iu common —a calm and confident alertness, 110 wears a uniform and a cap, and as custodian of the mail he carries a pistol. As a rule ho is married and lias children, and may grow flowers for recreation. The old-time, liappy-go-lucky hedge-hopper no longer exists on air transport. He has either been killed or tired. The modern transport pilot is keenly conscious of his responsibility. Outside there is a lowering grey sky, from which heavy, wet snow is falling. Visibility is limited, even ou the ground. From all over the eastern part of the country weather reports have been coining in every hour. They are pasted ou a big board at one end of the operations office, and a good weather map may be prepared from them before each flight. The Necessity. There must bo a -100 ft ceiling at Newark and visibility of one mile, or the Department of Commerce will not permit the aeroplane to take off. There must also be an alternate airport which can be reached by the machine with its normal fuel supply, where there is a 1500 ft ceiliug and visibility of two miles. (This rule is tho best guarantee of safety that has been adopted, and it was strengthened after the death of (Senator Cutting in a crash in Missouri last year.) And the aeroplane must have 45 minutes’ reserve fuel when it reaches this alternate airport. For some time the pilot and dispatcher pore over the weather map, planning the trip and the way it shall be flown. Either the dispatcher or the pilot may decide to cancel the flight, if either one doubts that it is safe. The Jinal decision is up to the pilot. It’ he docs not think it is safe, he does not fly, and no one replaces him. “Well, let’s go,” says the pilot. Ho gathers up his papers, including his clearanco papers, which he must turn iu at tho end of the run; these give the weather conditions at the time of leaving, tho number of passengers, weight, fuel, and other details. The aeroplane lias been iu only a few minutes from Chicago, so it is warmed up. Elaborate precautions have been taken to make that ship safe before it begins its run. At the end of every flight three mechanics go over the aeroplane for two hours, and at intervals ot forty and eighty hours of flying time it receives a more detailed inspection. After short periods instruments, radio sets, generator, and other delicate bits of mechanism are replaced. And at the end of 400 or 500 hours the aeroplane is sent to the shops, where the engines are completely overhauled; everything that might have worn slightly is replaced. Nothing is left to chance. Test of Fuel Lines. The pilot taxies out to the end of the runway, where the aeroplane is partly shrouded in tho falling snow. Each motor is opened up to make sure that jouncing over tho ground to the starting point has not caused any trouble in the fuel lines. But engines seldom give trouble now; 1 hey are the best that the airlines have ever had. They have been known to run perfectly with a broken cranksharft.

The field dispatcher gives the signal that the air is clear, and tho aeroplane takes off. Up through tho snow it climbs and in a few minutes there is nothing to be seen but a white smother. The pilot watches the dials for a fow minutes to mako suro that tho engines arc functioning perfectly, although, he would not be terribly worried if one stopped, for these aeroplanes must be able to take oft' on one motor, if necessary. Every few months the pilots pass tho test of taking off with one motor cut, and then mako turns with and ugainst the dead engine, just as he must pass a blind flying test frequently and take regular physical examinations. He may be the most experienced pilot in the country, but he must tako tho tests. There is a flutter of broken cloud past the cockpit window, the vapour grows bright as if with internal light, und then tho aeroplane shoots above the rolling, glistening floor of tho cloud layer and sunlight gleams of the silver wing. Iu the pilot’s car is tho ticking of the radio-beam signal which guides him, cither a dash and a dot or a dot and a dash, depending on which sido of the beam ho is flying. Radio beams, which are directional impulses, aro sot at intervals along tho routo and send out Morso signals constantly, in the direction of flight. They are narrow at the point of origin, but reach a width of seven miles. When tho pilot gets ono signal he knows he is on tho right side of the beam, where he should be; tho other signal warns him that he has strayed ever to the left; and a constant buzz, which is a mixed signal of tho two, shows he is riding down the centre lane. The beams shift a little sometimes, but they arc the best guides for the purpose as yet discovered and adjustments can be made for their eccentricities, if they aro not too erratic. “Getting Thick.” “Plano No, 1020,” the pilot calls into liis radio telephone, which connects him with the dispatcher ho has just left. •Out on top, 4000 feet, visibility unlimited.” “It seems to be getting thick at Newark,” the dispatcher answers. “You may have to go north and land at Albany. I’ll let you know.” The pilot grins ruefully at his copilot, who lias been listening in. The aeroplane climbs uutil it is at 10,000 *;cct. The throttle motors hum softly with a minimum ot' vibration. The pilot turns over the controls to his mate and leans back to relax, every sense subconsciously alert, however, for a change in the quality of the signals, for su uneven motor. His eyes run idly ever many instruments, which read “All’s well.” At tho end of tho halfhour interval he calls tho dispatcher again to report his position, altitude, and the weather. “Maybe you can get into Newark, after all,” he is told. “They think it is going to lift a bit and contiuuo to improve. ” This contact with tho ground is the most important part of organised transport flying. Tho older men occasionally rebel at tho regulations and instructions, but most pilots know the value of the rules and rely on them. When they do not, they get into trouble. Disastrous Errors. Not many months ago a pilot took jff in uncertain weather for Newark and found when about half-way there that the Newark weather was so bad he could not land. He was told to go north to an alternate field. But on the way to thought conditions were improving, and ho started again for Newark—without instructions. lie could not make it and turned north. But by that time he had used some of his reserve fuel and he had to land. He did so, cracking up tho aeroplane and injuring a few passengers. He was dismissed when he left the hospital. The aeroplane which crashed in Missouri, killing Senator Cutting, got into difficulties because of bad judgment. It was bound for St. Louis, where the weather was thick aud landing was impossible. The pilot started for an cmirgcncy field, but too much lirno had been wasted and the aeroplane ran out of gas twenty miles from the field. By that time, anyway, the field was covered by fog. Not long ago a transport cracked up in the Rockies, killing everyone aboard. The pilot and co-pilot were experienced men; they had been iver the course hundreds of times. Either they turned on their cockpit lights in order to make up their logs before getting in, and thus save themselves lime, or they had become careless and did not realise that they were too close lo tho mountain top for safety. Altimeters do not always register accurately within 100 feet. The most extraordinary accident,' however, was that of tho pilot who rammed the top of a hill in tho Catskills last year, killing all in the aeroplane. This pilot usually flew high by instruments, but ou this trip, for some unknown reason, ho chose to do contact flying—keeping iu touch with the ground. It was not a dangerous day, although there were heavy rain squalls. He apparently flew into ono of these, which lasted longer than he expected, tried to pull up out of it—and it was too late. Human Error. Human judgment failed in all of these cases, and human error is something which cannot be guarded against, whether oil the part of a railroad engineer, the captain of a Titanic or a Morro Castlo or the pilot of an aeroplane. There will always be some mistakes. , There are four checking points for aeroplanes coming into Newark —at Martin’s Creek for aeroplanes from the West, at Camden for aeroplanes from the South, at New Hackensack for aeroplanes from tho North, and at Stamford for aeroplanes from the East. In the control room is a huge aeroplane map, on which all the radio beams in the eastern area are marked. Along the beams the control men. move little pieces of wood representing aeroplanes. (Soon they will have a metal board, on which the aeroplanes will move mechanically.) From reports received at the offices of the dispatchers for tho various lines they calculate the speed at which the aeroplane is travelling—it varies with tho wind —and every fifteen minutes they move all the pieces with the aid of calipers. Both men wear earphones. A sig-

nal buzzes and ono of them listens a momont. “Did you get his altitudo? Okay. Thanks. ” Ho writes tho number of the trip, the time, tho position of the aeroplane, and the altitude on a blackboard. The calipers become busy again and tho wooden markers all over tho board are shoved forward after some hasty calculations. Three of them begin to draw closer to Newark. It is a thick night, with a low ceiling, not much above the legal limit of 400 feet. There are quick telephone calls to the dispatchers of the lines. “Hold No. 10 at Camden, and don’t let him in till wo clear him,” is the order. Another line is told, to hold its aeroplane at Hackensack. "Hold them? How do you do that? Can aeroplanes pull up at a stop signal and wait until it drops and gives them the right of way?” “Oh, they just fly back and forth on the beam at the altitudo we give them, or on their own altitudo if it is correct, until wc let them know that all aeroplanes arc out of the way.” Tho other aeroplane gets clearance orders and starts down, following the same method used by tho pilot of tho Cleveland aeroplane; as soon as he is down, the control room tells tho dispatcher of tho third line to bring in his aeroplane, and when it lands the ..last of tho trio comes safely to rest.