Thursday 11 July 2013

Are We Forgetting The Basics of Flying?

Much to Learn From This Pilot's Account.....Is the 'Ship' Heading The Same Way?

 
(Once a trainee Fighter Pilot myself, I remember learning flying from the very-2 basics & we flew from the 'seats of our pants' with open cockpits. This appears to be sadly missing ,particularly after the advent of computers. Remember, the emergency landing of Airbus in Hudson River by an ex Air Force Fighter Plot !)

Industry analysts estimated last week that in the next 20 years, the airlines are going to need 466,000 new pilots. When I said to an airline pilot friend that such a job market would make it easy for his son to follow in his footsteps, he smiled.
"I think he wants a flying job instead," he replied.
I noted that this sounded odd coming from a fellow who just flew a planeload of passengers back from overseas.
"I didn't fly," he replied. "The computer flew. I sat in the front office, monitoring systems."
"Who flies better," I asked, "you or the computer?"
"Oh, the computer," he replied. "No contest, as long as things function. When they stop functioning, it's a different story. Then the computer quits, and I go to work. Provided I still remember how."
 
The dilemma isn't new, but it's being discussed more and more frequently. Pilots don't fly enough. They get rusty, and when they really need to call upon their flying muscles, they find them either atrophied or insufficiently developed in the first place. The symbol of the problem has become Air France's Flight 447, an Airbus dropped by its pilots into the ocean three years ago, according to a French inquiry's final report released last month.
 
When a faulty speed sensor made the autopilot quit, two co-pilots on the flight deck would have needed to hand-fly their Airbus 330, established in cruise at 35,000 feet over the Atlantic, until the captain, who was taking his scheduled nap, returned to the cockpit. Their task was to fly straight and level for two or three minutes on instruments, with no visual reference to the horizon, without reliable airspeed indication, in light turbulence. They couldn't do it. By the time the captain came back, the Airbus had stopped flying and was about a minute from contacting the water.
In 1915, Arthur Roy Brown, the flying ace credited with bringing down Manfred von Richthofen, the Red Baron, had his pilot's license issued with six hours of flight time. By comparison, even the least experienced pilot on AF447 had 2,800 hours in his logbook. It isn't that today's pilots train fewer hours; it's that the study of increasingly complex systems and regulations compete for time and emphasis with flying skills. Airmanship and command authority are being boxed in by petty rules, for the comfort of lawyers and bureaucrats rather than to enhance operational efficiency and flight safety.
Before leaving the flight deck for his scheduled rest, the captain of Air France's ill-fated Flight 447 was obliged, as part of his briefing, to ask his relief pilot if he had a commercial pilot's license. Why would anyone weigh down the captain's workload with such a query? Would an unlicensed impostor say to the captain: "Crikey, skipper, I didn't know you needed a license for this gig" or would he just lie and say: "Yes, sir."
The crew whose fate it was to be flying Flight 447 had the necessary qualifications. The problem was that they had them in their wallets, rather than in their heads. Qualifications in wallets satisfy bureaucracies, but only qualifications in heads ensure the safety of a flight.
 
It was a "Thales"-type speed sensor that iced up as the Airbus was skirting a thunderstorm high above the South Atlantic. Air France, aware of the limitations of the device, had just begun to replace the $3,500 units. It hadn't gotten around to changing it in the ill-fated airplane before it departed Rio de Janeiro for Paris on the night of June 1, 2009. Grounding the entire Airbus fleet until all units were replaced may have cost only a fraction of what the accident, investigation and lawsuits will end up costing Air France, to say nothing of the tragic loss of 228 lives. Some analysts argue, though, that turning all potential flaws into mandatory "no go" items would make air transportation unaffordable.
The "Thales" sensors were more susceptible to icing than other designs, but they didn't all ice up, and the planes carrying those that did remained flyable and were landed safely by their Air France crews. So were two other Airbus 330s belonging to Paris-based Air Caraibes Atlantique. Only Flight 447 fell into the ocean. One disaster is one too many, of course, but it was no more an inevitable consequence than it would be for a blown tire to flip a car.
 
Airspeed is crucial to flight. Too fast and the plane can break up; too slow and it can fall out of the sky. When airspeed indicators become unreliable, the computerized systems - autopilot and auto-throttles - quit. On the Airbus, this is announced by the aural warning of a cavalry charge, the computer's way of calling the human pilot to the rescue.
 
Aviation is full of pithy sayings. One is that an airspeed sensor has no backup except airmanship. Losing airspeed readings can range from a non-event to a dire emergency depending on the pilot's skill and additional circumstances. The autopilot quitting on AF447, as it was designed to do after losing reliable airspeed indication, could and should have been a non-event. It left an airworthy aircraft flying straight and level in light turbulence. All Flight 447 needed was a pilot to fly it - or just let the plane fly itself, which is what planes trimmed for cruise flight tend to do in stable air, especially if their wings are kept level - but, as the cockpit voice recorder revealed, there were no pilots on the flight deck. There were two systems managers being confronted by a system that suddenly had become unmanageable.
 
Real pilots would have disregarded the rebellious computers going viral with flashing lights, cavalry charges, buzzers and bells, huffily announcing all the things they stopped doing for the humans aboard or required the humans to do for them. They would have let the computers crash and concentrated on flying the plane. The systems managers stopped flying and crashed with their computers.
 
This isn't how the French inquiry puts it, needless to say. I wouldn't put it this way in an inquiry myself. I'm exaggerating to make the point that our technology may be getting ahead of itself. If so, we may hire 466,000 systems managers of an unmanageable system in the next 20 years.
George Jonas | Jul 18, 2012

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