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ASI MESSAGE

A Fly-By to Remember

Taxing the skills of highly experienced and proficient pilots
A perfectly executed stadium
fly-by comes in fast, low,
loud, and overhead just as the
national anthem is ending. It's
not enough to be on target,
nor is it enough to mosey in
on time, whispering over the
venue in cruise power. The
objective is speed, noise-power the audience can feel. Give them a
few seconds as the national anthem is reaching a dramatic conclusion
to revel in the power, pride, and precision of their military air power.
Success takes a lot of planning, and occasionally a bit of luck. The
typical national anthem is 95 seconds long. Flying at 360 knots
groundspeed covers 6 miles a minute. A holding pattern (a CAP, for
combat air patrol), 10 miles from the field and 9 miles in length, offers
a model set-up. Ideally, an event producer on the ground relays a
5-minute call and a 3-minute call, which allows the flight to adjust
ground track to be at the front of the CAP for the "national anthem
started" call. A steady 360 knot groundspeed inbound puts the flight
slightly behind schedule, setting up a high-speed, high power-setting
run-in over the last couple of miles to arrive overhead as the singer
belts, "...home of the brave."
The World Series fly-by over Pacific Bell Park in San Francisco is one
I'll long remember. We departed Nellis Air Force Base in Las Vegas,
flew to San Francisco and penetrated a low overcast to fly up the east
side of San Francisco Bay, wedged in between and below Oakland
and San Francisco airspace. Visibility dropped, and we were granted
special VFR. Squeezing the cumbrous six-airplane delta formation
between adjoining airspace, underneath a low overcast, with limited
visibility, a poor horizon, and saturated radios took every bit of my
concentration, skill, and experience.

anthem 15 seconds or so from conclusion, we reduced power, closed
the formation, flicked on our smoke, and passed from right field,
across the pitcher's mound, and over the third base dugout. I looked
slightly low and to my right to see the large American flag on the
center field scoreboard. No time to assess our timing, though-we
still had work to do.
We'd previously coordinated with Center for an IFR climb following
the fly-by to pick up our routing home. Pulling the delta formation
up through the gray overcast, I looked briefly to my right and
could see no trace of number 3's aircraft. I held steady, no changes
in pitch, bank, or power, for what seemed an eternity, then we
broke through on top and I marveled at five exceptionally talented
wingmen in perfect delta formation.
With all the low-altitude maneuvering and high power settings,
we were low on fuel. One of the wingmen called forward in our
secondary radio, imploring the refueling aircraft to head west and
meet us early. We ran a night rendezvous, sipped some gas, and
flew home to Nellis in time to watch the final few innings. We were
late overhead the stadium by about 3 seconds, most of which was
covered by Tony Bennett, no rookie to extending a pause or holding
a note for a few needed seconds.
A simple fly-by ended up taxing the skills and experience it had
taken us our entire careers to build. We were well trained; highly
proficient; flying exceptionally maintained aircraft; and we'd
developed a culture of trust and accountability that brought out the
best in us. We were open about our struggles and weren't too proud
to take help when needed. It takes all of those elements to fly at
your very best, which is sometimes required in the most innocuous
appearing circumstances.
Go fly.

In the staging area, I couldn't get mental orientation. Lights on the
hillsides combined with ships in the bay to make discerning a horizon
under the darkening late afternoon overcast difficult. We orbited in
loose formation and Thunderbird number 4, the slot pilot, continued
to correct my mental picture by calling landmarks. We finally got
clearance to move up into our CAP, but the delay threw off our
timing, and we still hadn't heard from our coordinator at the stadium.
Close to the 3-minute mark, halfway through an outbound leg in the
CAP, we heard a scratchy transmission, which we suspected to be
our 3-minute call. We queried it and heard a scratchy, broken, urgent
voice: "nega...anth...has...sta...an...started."
Well out of position, behind any timing guidelines, and working
through my misaligned mental picture, I quickly turned the delta
formation inbound, and called for afterburners. We dashed low
across the bay in loose formation pointing to what number 4 assured
me was the stadium. As we got to within about two miles, with the

RICHARD G. MCSPADDEN, JR.
SENIOR VICE PRESIDENT, AOPA AIR SAFETY INSTITUTE

AOPA Air Safety Institute Senior Vice President Richard McSpadden
led more than 100 flight performances as commander and flight
leader of the U.S. Air Force Thunderbirds.

Watch the USAF Thunderbirds
doing a stadium Flyby.
7
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