From: gillett@aosg.gsf.dec.com (Christopher Gillett)
Newsgroups: rec.aviation.piloting
Subject: All
Date: 12 Jan 93 13:00:50 GMT
Organization: Digital Equipment Corporation


-- 
Recently there has been a lot of discussion about flying around in
clouds without the appropriate training, rating, etc.  While I don't
want to get involved with the flamage part, I do want to share something
I read recently.  

I'm a low-time pre-solo student who just recently finished ground school.  
During ground school, we (obviously) spent many hours talking about
weather, interpretation, safety margins, etc.  In order to bring the
points about flying in cloud home in a forceful manner, our instructor
handed out a flyer, published by Transport Canada under the series
"Take Five for Safety."  The article is entitled "178 Seconds."  It's
a little on the overly-dramtic side, but is still relevant reading.

While Chong did not depart in marginal conditions (quite the opposite,
in fact), there are some parallels between the article and his
experience.

Maybe this particular article is stock-in-trade for all instructors
and ground school attendees.  If so, it's time for "next unseen."  
For me, it did much to put all the "classroom talk" into real
life perspective.

	"Hey, hey, hey!   Let's be *really* careful out there!"
			-- Famous 'Hill Street Blues' Quote

./chris gillett


			178 Seconds

If you're ever tempted to take off in marginal weather and have no
instrument training, read this article first before you go.  If you decide
to go anyway and lose visual contact, start counting down from 178
seconds.

How long can a pilot who has no instrument training expect to live after
he flies into bad weather and loses visual contact?  Researchers at 
the University of Illinois found the answer to this question.  Twenty
student "guinea pigs" flew into simulated instrument weather, and all
went into graveyard spirals or rollercoasters.  The outcome differed
only in one respect:  the time required till control was lost.  The
interval ranged from 480 seconds to 20 seconds.  The average time was
178 seconds - two seconds short of 3 minutes.

Here's the fatal scenario:

The sky is overcase and the visibility is poor.  That reported 5-mile
visibility looks more like two, and you can't judge the height of the
overcast.  Your altimeter says you're at 1500 but you map tells you there's
local terrain as high as 1200 feet.  There might even be a tower nearby
because you're not sure just how far off course you are.  But you've
flown into worse weather than this, so you press on.

You find yourself unconciously easing back just a bit on the controls
to clear those non-too-imaginary towers.  With no warning, you're in
the soup.  You peer so hard into the milky white mist that your eyes
hurt.  You fight the feeling in your stomach.  You swallow, only to
find your mouth dry.  Now you realize you should have waited for better
weather.  The appointment was important - but not that important.  
Somewhere a voice is saying "You've had it - its all over."

You now have 178 seconds to live.  Your aircraft feels on an even keel
but your compass turns slowly.  You push a little rudder and
add a little pressure on the controls to stop the turn but this feels
unnatural and you return the controls to their original position.
This feels better but your compass is now turning a little faster
and your airspeed is increasing slightly.  You scan your instrument
panel for help, but what you seen looks somewhat unfamiliar.  You're
sure this is just a bad spot.  You'll break out in a few minutes (but
you don't have several minutes left...)

You now have 100 seconds to live.  You glance at your altimeter and are
shocked to see it unwinding.  You're already down to 1200 feet.  
Instinctively, you pull back on the controls but the altimeter still
unwinds.  The engine is into the red - and the airspeed, nearly so.

You have 45 seconds to live.  Now you're sweating and shaking.  There
must be something wrong with the controls;  pulling back only moves 
that airspeed indicator further into the red.  You can hear the wind
tearing at the aircract.

You now have 10 seconds to live.  Suddenly, you can see the ground.
The tres rush up at you.  You can see the horizon if you turn
your head far enough but it's at an unusual angle - you're almost
inverted.  You open your mouth to scream but...

...you have no seconds left.



---
Christopher C. Gillett		| gillett@aosg.gsf.dec.com
AOSG/Unix Engineering           | Compilers and Languages
Digital Equipment Corporation	| Standard Disclaimers Apply
Newsgroups: rec.aviation.piloting