![]() |
If this is your first visit, be sure to check out the FAQ by clicking the link above. You may have to register before you can post: click the register link above to proceed. To start viewing messages, select the forum that you want to visit from the selection below. |
|
|
Thread Tools | Display Modes |
|
#1
|
|||
|
|||
![]()
Paul Adriance: I missed your original post regarding the accident. Will you
be kind enough to post it again or send to to me by e-mail. Thanks in advance, Charles V. |
#2
|
|||
|
|||
![]()
Here's a repost, Charles:
I guess I'm qualified to comment, at least regarding the recent Seattle area midair I was involved in. More than that, I WANT to comment. Whether or not this finds its way back to the NTSB, I want other soaring pilots to learn from what happened so that this unfortunate trend stops now. I'll be happy to go in more detail for anyone, but at least here is some basic background and detail relevent to the first post along with some reflections I've had in the weeks since the collision. A brief warning: this is quite a long post but, I hope worth the read. We have a pretty strong core group of guys that fly in the mountains here and we often get together and discuss the paticular kind of flying we do. One of our recent discussions was regarding a comment that some pilot's who soar the Alps in Europe recommend NOT using any GPS type hardware for mountain flying. It seems to make sense here at least, where we are consistently in close proximity to the terrain under low ceilings. A GPS isn't going to help much if we need to follow drainages or canyons to a safe landing area, and this is very often the case. Our "outs" often take us over completely unlandable terrain and below ridge and mountain top level. If you don't know the way visually and have a mental picture of the complex glide path involved, what happens when your batteries die or a fuse blows? For this reason and others, I am almost positive neither of us was flying with any sort of GPS or flight computer. Though Will had a nice flight computer with GPS and connection for a PDA, I can say with some certainty that he was not using it because he had requested I help him set it up. Once Will shuts down his engine, he doesn't have a lot of toys hanging right in front of his face to distract him. For my part, aside from the electric Tasman audio vario, I had nothing but a radio and standard mechanical instruments to worry about. In the case of our collision, it was probably only a 20 or 30 second interval between flying together normally and a position where collision was imminent. We'd been consistently using the radio up to that point and had been together flying that day for quite some time already. As we flew about 1000 or 1500 feet under a small line of clouds that were about 2500 feet over a ridgetop, Will decided to turn to the West, I decided to go straight...and neither of us said anything over the radio for some reason. We converged as Will had been ahead of me when he turned and came up at roughly my 9:00 position. Contact occured while sliding into each other despite our opposing angles of bank. My left wingtip hit the underside of his right wing with the fuselages in an almost perfectly parallel formation. He was silhouetted by the sun as it was getting quite late in the day, I was silhouetted by clouds that were in the mountains behind us. Furthermore, both of us surely assumed the other person had done something else. We had been following each other back and forth over the ridge prior to the collision, so he may have assumed I was going to follow him as he circled. I decided not to follow him on what I thought was a 180 to the South that would lead him behind me back over the ridgetop and instead tried to continue following it North. This under the assumption Will had continued South after I last saw him turning to a roughly southern heading. Will was the first to see the danger and I immediately turned to see him only 80 feet or so off my 9:00 when I heard the radio call. I can't imagine him not having called me earlier with a warning or position update as he was as concientious a pilot as any here about keeping radio contact, especially if something was amiss. Roughly 30 seconds after seeing him start his turn in front of me I was freefalling 500 feet over the ground praying my chute opened. Will apparantly never had the opportunity to get out as I did. My comments on this situation: The great evil of assumptive flying was our greatest sin; instead of getting on the radio and saying, "hey, I lost ya bud" as we had done consistently earlier in the day, we just let our past situation fill in the blanks. It was inconcievable to me that Will would end up next to me: we were over a ridge, the lift was in a band, I didn't expect him to circle... On the other hand, we were 1000 feet over the top, he probably thought, "I just must have missed him behind me, he surely is turning with me in this boomer". We didn't continue our judicious use of the radio for just long enough to get into trouble. Also, we didn't recognize the inherent dangers of flying in the proximity of other gliders late in the day due to the sun's positioning and nearby cloud cover. The ceiling was only 2500 feet over the ridge, that compressed us into a fairly narrow band of operation. It was well known territory for both of us and an easy glide back to the airfield, our next destination. This possibly led to some unconcious relaxation over a sure position. My normally thorough scanning technique taught by multiple instructors and straight out of the handbooks and soaring manual was no match for these circumstances. If you look hard enough, I guess you can see the "chain" of events forming that is so often cited in aircraft accidents. In our case it wasn't a major squawk on the aircraft or a poor nights sleep, it was much more subtle, insidious, and otherwise innocuous changes. Changes like the time of day, position relative to the airfield and thusly, dinner, our growing level of comfort about our proximity to each other and trust that the other person was just as vigilant as we were, that glow you feel inside after an amazing day of soaring back in the mountains that makes you just want to sit back and revel over the majesty of unpowered flight... The list could go on and on. I even suppose one could argue soaring is inherently more dangerous BECAUSE you are flying for fun, for the challange of getting to the next area of lift and reading the days conditions, for the pleasure of travelling increadible distances with nothing but a bad decision between a succesful flight and a landout. Someone focusing on all these things and still trying to track other gliders and aircraft and radio conversations seems inherently more susceptible to distracations (even just those outside of the cockpit or in your mind) than someone flying purely for transportational needs. The fact we can't choose the weather also plays into it, there is often an urgency to go flying on a great day because you never know when the next one will come. Here at least, you can often count really great soaring days in the year on your fingers, so to miss one is to really miss out. Just so many small details that can suddenly add up to one serious mistake. Despite these things, one area of pride I still have is the club oriented education I recieved. I had many instructors with widely varying backgrounds who presented immense experience from which to draw on. They humbled me and forced me into a regimented training program that saw me take my private check ride over a year after I started with enough time to go straight for a commercial (And no, it wasn't because I was close to the, "have you considered Golf?", conversation, they were just extremely cautious and demanding). Even so, I'm still one of the youngest and newest pilots here and must suppose this post to be a risky move. My total time prior to the collision was about 60 hours in 150 flights. I expect it will be a no brainer for the judgemental types and NTSB, "new pilot, he survived, handy place to dump responsibility and wash our hands of it". If I didn't know Will's family as the thoughtful, caring, and unpretentious people that they are, I would hope for such an outcome so they had something to point at, to attack and cover the pain of their loss. As it is, the aftermath won't alter who they are or how they feel and is something I have no control over. What I do have control over is whether I use my experience to help others or hide it in order to protect myself. I could never dishonor my dear late friend by choosing the latter, so here I post... Paul Adriance "Vorsanger1" wrote in message ... Paul Adriance: I missed your original post regarding the accident. Will you be kind enough to post it again or send to to me by e-mail. Thanks in advance, Charles V. |
#3
|
|||
|
|||
![]()
Thanks, Paul
I truly appreciate your fortitude in describing what is probably the most traumatic event you have experienced. From your post, I and countless other pilots have gained an insight of enormous importance. I for one, will pay more attention to the repack dates of my chute. Thanks again, Paul, I wish you the best, Charles |
Thread Tools | |
Display Modes | |
|
|
![]() |
||||
Thread | Thread Starter | Forum | Replies | Last Post |
Mid-Air Collisions | JJ Sinclair | Soaring | 26 | April 19th 04 08:52 AM |
Distance Task Opinions? | Kilo Charlie | Soaring | 14 | September 6th 03 04:23 AM |