Flight Training - November 2013 - 22

FLIGHT LESSON

By Pat Quinn
FLIGHT LESSON offers the
opportunity for pilots to learn
from the experiences of others.

SHARON’S RIDE

A BRIEFING GOES UNHEEDED

M

y usual ride for passengers in my 1939 Bücker Jungmann
biplane is to take off from Santa Paula, California, and fly
southwest at about 1,500 feet above ground level over the
rich farmland of the Santa Clara River Valley, then over my
home town of Ventura. From there, we descend to 500 feet and follow
the Pacific coastline west to just past Carpinteria. I point out the old
World War II coastal artillery battery sites, celebrities’ homes, and the
throngs of surfers at a spot called Rincon. Approaching Carpinteria, we
pass by the seal rookery at the base of the cliffs. Occasionally, we may
see local pods of dolphins, blue whales, or gray whales as they migrate
between Alaska and Baja California.

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FLIGHTTRAINING.AOPA.ORG

of gravity. I explained to her where to
hang on and warned her to be careful of
the dual controls. Sharon is short, so I
gave her the thickest seat cushion I had,
but she was still a little low in the cockpit.
I decided that was the best I could do, so
we took off.
The tour was proceeding just fine as
I turned inland over the tideland complex just west of Carpinteria. As we
approached the shoreline of Lake Casitas
at 3,500 feet, the Jungmann suddenly
pitched downward. I used nearly all of my
strength to hold the control stick back,
trying to maintain a level attitude. Over
the intercom I told Sharon to take her
hands off of the stick. She replied that she
was not touching the stick. I asked her to
make sure that her feet were not against
the stick. Again, she replied that she was
not touching the stick. I thought some-

ALEX WILLIAMSON

As I approach the Santa Barbara Polo
Club, I turn inland and southeast to complete the triangle back to Santa Paula. This
requires a climb to more than 3,000 feet
to safely clear the bright green mountains
that separate the coastal plain from the
Ojai Valley.
As we fly by the movie star hangout in
the lovely village of Ojai, we pass Sulfur
Mountain. Then we fly back to the crosswind entry for Santa Paula Airport.
Cruising at a tad more than 100 miles
per hour, this trip takes about 35 minutes.
I believe it is just about the right length of
time to give my passengers an enjoyable
flight and the true feeling of open cockpit
biplane flying.
On this day, I had loaded my friend,
Sharon, into the front seat. Most open
cockpit biplanes are flown from the rear
seat to maintain a nearly constant center

thing in the tailplane must have broken.
When strapped in the rear seat, I cannot
see the tailplane. I told Sharon we were in
trouble and to prepare for the worst.
Thousands of thoughts passed through
my head. I was sure that I could not make
it back to Santa Paula. The force on the
stick seemed too great. If I was forced
down, should I try to land on the lake’s
rough shoreline, the adjacent ultrasmall model airplane airport, or take our
chances in the lake? Should I try to find a
fishing boat to splash next to or stay away
so that I did not swamp the small fishing
boats common there? Should I reduce
throttle? That would make the nose want
to go down more, risking more speed,
and if the tailplane did have a problem,
it would risk more damage and possible
loss of control. Should I increase power?
That might tend to bring up the nose, but
it would also risk further damage to the
perceived tailplane problem. I decided to
leave the throttle alone.
I tried to move the elevator trim lever,
but it felt jammed. The trim sets the attitude of the airplane so that the pilot does
not have to hold pressure in every realm
of flight. I then thought, What have I got
to lose by trying to force the trim lever nose
up? I pulled back hard, and the Jungmann
returned to normal flight.
From the front cockpit, Sharon said,
“Oh! Now I see what I was doing wrong.”
In order to see the lake below, Sharon had
reached to the side of the cockpit, grabbed
the left-side throttle linkage and the
right-side trim linkage, raised her short
self up by her arms, and locked her elbows
straight. When she did that, it forced the
elevator trim linkage forward into a seemingly jammed nose-down attitude.
She had not paid attention in my preflight briefings, but I had failed to give her
enough cushions to see out adequately.
She wanted to see the lake, and I thought
we were going to die. On the way back,
I threw in an extra hammerhead and a
snap roll for messing with my mind, but
I was sure glad to be back on terra firma
this time.
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Flight Training - November 2013

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