Wed Sep 01, 2004 5:26 pm
#111581
An importer and distributor of a certain make of light aircraft had often asked me to move aircraft around the country for them (as a PPL holder lets forget the hire and reward aspects of this in this scenario).
On this day I had been asked to take a brand new aircraft with an engine defect to a local agency to be assessed for a warranty repair. The defect was not significant, just a crack in the engine casing where an ancilliary item was bolted on. The whole job shouldn't take long, just a quick inspection. I was to take an engineer along with me to liaise on things of a mechanical nature.
The weather was not that great, overcast at 2,000 feet and a stiff wind, but regardless off we set from A to B with a time enroute of about 45 minutes. After a bumpy flight just below the cloudbase we arrive at B and the aircraft is wheeled into a hangar for inspection. The 'short job' became a protracted 'long job' and it was a few hours later when it was handed back for the return flight home.
Keen to get home, as time was pressing, off we launched straight into IMC at 800 feet. Cruising at 2,400 feet in very turbulent conditions, single pilot was fast running out of being fun. Particularly as this machine was only equipped with one COM box and one VOR, nothing else. After half an hour, and with destination A being well out of any sort of limits I gave up the struggle and elected to divert to a nearby major airport.
So there I was bumping along explaining to this charming lady controller that, no I couldn't squawk, and no I didn't have an ILS, and no I didn't have a DME (or ADF come to that). All I could accept was a surveillance radar approach which she set about providing. All the way down to 2 miles from touchdown still bumping along in IMC where she converted to an emergency SRA down to 0.5 nm. In then end I got the approach lights in sight at about 1 mile.
We parked the aircraft got out into a howling gale and driving rain and trudged to the hire car provider and drove home.
It was on that drive that I finally got the time to consider my actions. What the hell was I doing up there in the middle of an aggressive cold front in an aeroplane with one VOR? Why had I launched on the return trip at all? Why didn't I go aorund from the SRA on reaching my PPL/IMC minima, but continue to descend to the point where the controller was sounding concerned?
I am sure this is just one of a thousand of 'Get home itis' stories that could be told.
On this day I had been asked to take a brand new aircraft with an engine defect to a local agency to be assessed for a warranty repair. The defect was not significant, just a crack in the engine casing where an ancilliary item was bolted on. The whole job shouldn't take long, just a quick inspection. I was to take an engineer along with me to liaise on things of a mechanical nature.
The weather was not that great, overcast at 2,000 feet and a stiff wind, but regardless off we set from A to B with a time enroute of about 45 minutes. After a bumpy flight just below the cloudbase we arrive at B and the aircraft is wheeled into a hangar for inspection. The 'short job' became a protracted 'long job' and it was a few hours later when it was handed back for the return flight home.
Keen to get home, as time was pressing, off we launched straight into IMC at 800 feet. Cruising at 2,400 feet in very turbulent conditions, single pilot was fast running out of being fun. Particularly as this machine was only equipped with one COM box and one VOR, nothing else. After half an hour, and with destination A being well out of any sort of limits I gave up the struggle and elected to divert to a nearby major airport.
So there I was bumping along explaining to this charming lady controller that, no I couldn't squawk, and no I didn't have an ILS, and no I didn't have a DME (or ADF come to that). All I could accept was a surveillance radar approach which she set about providing. All the way down to 2 miles from touchdown still bumping along in IMC where she converted to an emergency SRA down to 0.5 nm. In then end I got the approach lights in sight at about 1 mile.
We parked the aircraft got out into a howling gale and driving rain and trudged to the hire car provider and drove home.
It was on that drive that I finally got the time to consider my actions. What the hell was I doing up there in the middle of an aggressive cold front in an aeroplane with one VOR? Why had I launched on the return trip at all? Why didn't I go aorund from the SRA on reaching my PPL/IMC minima, but continue to descend to the point where the controller was sounding concerned?
I am sure this is just one of a thousand of 'Get home itis' stories that could be told.