Failings of Flight Training

1. Common skills deficiencies
We believe that this is due to a number of factors that are fairly constant throughout the civil flight training industry. The more common ones include improper use of trim and rudder, poor control of speed and low situational awareness.

Military-trained pilots do not seem to suffer from the same issues, or at least not to the same extent. Or if they do, it is classified.

A detailed investigation of the Manual of Standards (MOS – the document that defines what a pilot needs to be taught or should know) would suggest that at least some of these skills should be covered in the syllabus. However, for some reason they seem to be commonly ignored or inadequately addressed by a large portion of instructors – and testing officers.

While each of these issues may seem rather trivial on their own, when combined together with each other or with certain critical flying manoeuvres, they can have dire consequences.

2. Undefined boundaries
Another issue that I had (as a freshly minted PPL) with the training syllabus was that there was no attempt to explore or even identify the limits of the flight performance envelope. Pilots are essentially trained to operate in a safe area of the envelope without ever understanding how close to the aerodynamic limits they really are at any given time.

To quote well-known and respected aviation training guru Bob Tait, “I didn’t want to fly an aeroplane if I hadn’t been to every corner of the performance envelope. I wanted to know what happens in the end. What is the ultimate manoeuvre?” To satisfy that thirst for knowledge, Tait got into aerobatics.

But what can the rest of us (who prefer their lunch on the inside of their stomachs) do to at least gain a basic understanding of how far we can push an aircraft while remaining safe? The syllabus does not seem interested in providing this information. Of course, these limits will change as our experience level increases, which adds another dimension to the knowledge gap.

Filling that gap is one of the missions of Aero Circus (after having fun, of course).

3. Unrelatable training
Sometimes the purpose of learning certain skills in aviation is lost on the pilot. And not because the pilot is in any way stupid. There may be a disconnect between what we are being taught and what we need to do when those skills are required.

A good example is stalling. We climb to 3,500 feet above the ground, close the throttle and pull back until something happens to the aircraft. This is great for getting a feel for how well-behaved or not the aircraft is in a stall and experiencing the warning signs of an approaching stall like buffeting and sloppy controls.

But really, how does that relate to applying the skills when they are critically needed – in a steep turn near the ground. How many of us have closed the throttle on final then pulled back hard until the aircraft drops out of the sky? Not many, I suspect. The most likely time that an immediate and automatic reaction to push the nose down and firewall the throttle will be required is when turning final too steeply with insufficient airspeed margin above the stall. But how many of us have even had that manoeuvre demonstrated at a safe altitude, much less practised it?

Even learning that buffeting always precedes a stall may be misleading. For example, at least for high-wing pilots, we have all stalled the aircraft onto the runway from a (hopefully) very low distance above the ground. On the hundreds of occasions that I have done that, I have never noticed any buffeting. Just the scream of the stall warning horn. And any passengers who may still be alive.

The following are some examples of when we believe that standard pilot training may not go far enough.

Stabilised approaches
One philosophy that seems to have been adopted by quite a few training schools is that of the stabilised approach to land. The mantra is that the approach on final must be performed at a constant airspeed glidepath angle and configuration. If anything gets out of shape, then a go-around is immediately instigated.

We totally agree that every pilot should be able to do this at any time. However, many of these schools seem to insist that a stabilised approach is flown for every landing. There is no consideration given to situations when this may not be an option. A few examples that spring to mind include one-way airstrips where go-arounds are not possible, expedited landings when the aircraft is on fire or a pax needs urgent medical attention, or even a glide approach after engine failure. In all these cases, the pilot needs a few skills that they will not learn from only performing stabilised approaches.

The obvious danger is that the pilot who can only fly a stabilised approach will have no idea what to do when things get out of line. Training for these situations will give the pilot a set of tools they can call on when required. This will lead to greater confidence that they can handle most situations when the unexpected happens.

You have to wonder why the syllabus includes side-slipping, flapless and glide approaches if these are never to be used again.

Forced landings
This appears to be an industry-wide problem, but one that (usually) only flying instructors would be aware of. When learning how to carry out forced landings, the student will generally not be aware that the simulated engine failure is always at 3,000 feet AGL and on crosswind. There will always be a suitable landing area on the pilot’s side of the aircraft. Unless you are training for CPL and above in which case it will be on the passenger’s side.

It doesn’t take an actuary to work out that the odds of a real engine failure occurring in those exact circumstances are probably greater than winning Powerball. And your stabilised approach skills might not save you on this occasion.

Hard landings
For some reason I was always concerned about how a ‘firm’ landing might demolish the main landing gear on a Cessna 172. That was, until I saw a video where NASA dropped a 172 from 100 feet. The main gear flexed so far (without breaking) that the belly of the aircraft between the main wheels almost touched the ground. The rest of the aircraft looked a bit ordinary afterwards, but at least the wheels did not fall off.

Neither the Australian flight training syllabus nor my various flying instructors had given me any guidance about what my aircraft could withstand in this regard. It was left to a random online search.

The crosswind conundrum
Crosswinds are one of the main areas of flying that seem to challenge more pilots than most other issues. This might be because the right weather conditions are required during training for the skills to be taught properly. It may also be due to the sometimes subtle and non-intuitive combination of techniques required to deal with the vagaries of Mother Nature. And all this during what is already, for most people, the most difficult phase of flight to master.

Rumour has it that some flying schools will ground their aircraft once the demonstrated crosswind component for their aircraft is exceeded. Perhaps the best time to learn and practice crosswind handling is going to waste? And what is likely to happen when the student finally gets released into the wild?

Towards a solution
Aero Circus has recently published a book called Refine Your Flying Skills. It was written in response to some of the gaps that we believe exist between aviation training and the practical application of flying skills. We have found these gaps to be wider the lower the experience and licence level. However, even in very high-hour pilots with extensive airline experience, it is not uncommon to find the same few fundamental skills deficiencies.

The following extract from the book explains how Aero Circus came to be and what inspired us to write this book. It is taken from the chapter called Conquering Crosswinds. In that chapter we also look at how to deal with gusting conditions, although that topic is not even included in Part 61.

Anecdotal evidence would suggest that many pilots struggle at times, not only when dealing with crosswind takeoffs and landings, but also in the circuit and while taxiing. In this chapter, Private Pilot Ian recalls his near miss when trying to deal with crosswinds without adequate prior training and explains how he made sure it would never happen again. Then Instructor Fabrice responds with some detailed analysis of the causes and how anyone can learn to confidently deal with this challenge.

What is your immediate reaction when you hear “crosswind up to 15 knots from the left” or something similar? Do you start to sweat a little and tense up in the stomach muscles, or do you get a little excited, looking forward to using your hard-won skills and knowledge?

In the good old days
When I first learned to fly, even though I did not change flying schools, I still went through a number of different instructors as they came and went from the school, or my usual instructor was not available when I was able to fly. Even so, with the various different styles that each instructor brings, my training in crosswind landings was patchy at best. Unless you fly from an ‘all-over’ airfield where you can take off and land in any direction, you need that cantankerous old bitch Mother Nature on your side to provide the right conditions when learning and practicing crosswind skills. Not only is the wind direction important, the wind speeds at ground level and in the circuit are critical to each learning step.

Of course, flight simulators can be useful in these circumstances, but you can only learn so much without the kinetic feedback a real aircraft provides when a decent gust of crosswind gets hold of it at the worst possible moment.

During my initial training I managed to get to General Flying Proficiency Test (GFPT) level and beyond without acquiring much in the way of crosswind experience. I vaguely recall being told to keep one wing down on approach. Looking back through my briefing notes there is no mention of crosswind anywhere. During this time, most of my landings were quite good for my experience level. I can only assume that I never really encountered a decent crosswind, at least when an instructor was not there to catch the mistakes.

“I didn’t want to fly an aeroplane if I hadn’t been to every corner of the performance envelope. I wanted to know what happens in the end”

Back to the future

Fast forward about 10 years, and after a forced ‘poverty break’ when my only flying was in seat 16C (I always picked that seat because in a B738 it is over the wing and therefore stable, it is on the aisle so my fairly broad shoulders are not squeezed between other pax or the fuselage, and most importantly it is one of the first to be served food and drinks), I returned to flying from the very front seat (0A?).

After only 3 hours in the air and a heap of time with my nose in the old BAK textbook, I was ready for my Part 61 flight review. Another hour for that and I was successfully converted to a Recreational Pilot Licence (RPL). I recall the Chief Flying Instructor (CFI) saying that my crosswind landings were OK, although to me there was no noticeable crosswind at any time. I deferred to experience and assumed I was so good at landings that I didn’t consciously realise what I was doing. Yeah, right.

What could possibly go wrong?
One month later I attempted my first solo in 11 years. As I rolled down runway 28R at Archerfield in a Cessna 172 with a massive 7 hours’ experience on type and 55 hours flying time in total, I lifted off with the intention of doing a few circuits with what must have been a reasonable crosswind. I noticed that the main wheel tyres seemed to get dragged sideways as they left the ground. That was not something I had ever experienced before. It felt quite weird.

The first circuit was like having sex. A lot of swearing, sweating and performance anxiety, while trying to remember what to do and when. It was far worse than my first solo all those years ago (the flying one, I mean). Finally, I was cleared to land and made my approach on final. I don’t recall how I maintained runway centreline on that occasion, I can only assume it involved a lot of aileron input (trying to steer with the hands) and some swearing (mostly without the mic being keyed).

Somehow, I managed to touch down just beyond the piano keys, however while I was ready to land, the aircraft was not. It bounced back into the air, no doubt due to my bad habit at the time of flying the approach when solo at 10 to 20 knots faster than I should have in case I got too close to stall speed without noticing and fell out of the sky (so many forms to fill in – perish the thought).

As I unwillingly and unexpectedly rose away from the safety of the runway, the crosswind from the left acted on the tail of the aircraft, making it weathercock towards the left (into wind) by a few degrees. Repeat this process another 3 times and suddenly we were heading for a runway light on the left side of the bitumen. I had never seen one that close before, and I recall marvelling at how high it was sticking out above the surface. Not wanting to get a bill for its early replacement, I gently steered the nosewheel of the aircraft away from it and rolled off onto the grass at a speed that, had I chosen to do so, would probably have allowed me to immediately take off again had the control tower not been in the centre of the windscreen.

With more gentle input on the rudder pedals as the speed washed off, I managed to slowly bring the nose around to the right and eventually re-joined the runway proper. I radioed the tower to let them know that my touch and go would now be a full stop, and with my tail between my legs, I taxied off the runway and back to the holding point, where I needed to adjust the seat height downwards by a few inches.

Safely back at the flying school, I mentioned to the instructor who had sent me solo all those years ago that the takeoff felt strange, like the wheels were being ripped off the ground. All he said was that it was due to crosswinds and there were “things you could do to prevent that happening”. Very helpful. Fortunately for everyone, he is no longer in the industry.

Time for some proper flight instruction. And that’s when I began flying with Fabrice.

What did go wrong?
Instructor Fabrice analyses Ian’s story and provides some valuable insight into why he ended up where he did. My analysis of Ian’s technique is based on the few flying hours following this incident. I need to salute Ian for being brave enough to ask for advice and remediation to his technique. After a few hours of retraining Ian became a confident and very competent pilot.

Handling crosswinds is part of the difficult flying skills taught as part of the ab-initio flight training. It consistently gives students problems to master before their release ‘into the wild’. In my experience, the problems associated with poor crosswind techniques are the use of elevator trim and the use of rudder. Neither are easy to master but both are paramount when the time has come to demonstrate one’s crosswind technique.

In Ian’s case, the improper use of the trim was a result of him being advised (earlier in his training) not to worry about it in the circuit. This resulted in him needing to fight the aircraft all the way down to the flare. Of course, if Ian didn’t use the trim properly, his task of maintaining a constant and steady speed was impossible; he just spent the whole time fighting the aircraft.

The misuse of rudder or, more accurately, the complete lack of use of the rudder in the right way, almost led to Ian departing aviation (and possibly the planet) permanently and would have been a loss for everyone involved.

In Ian’s case, his failure to properly set up then trim the aircraft on final for the correct approach speed and angle resulted in him needing to constantly monitor and correct the airspeed using elevator input (stick forward or back).

Then, as if this fighting was not enough, there is the need to maintain runway centreline with aileron input (stick left and right). Hence his high ‘safety’ approach speed probably translated into a high vertical speed at touchdown which contributed to a bounced landing. Had he read (and had I written) my article on Mastering the Go-Around before that, he may have been able to salvage the situation after the first bounce. All hail the mighty power of hindsight.

However, even if the approach speed had been correct, he would most likely have still ended up on the grass. His greatest sin was his failure to use rudder input to keep the nose of the aircraft in line with the runway just before touchdown. Once the wind caught the tail after the first bounce, without rudder input he was just a passenger, albeit a lucky one in this case. A porpoise landing and prop strike or worse is often the result of multiple bounces on landing. That would have cost a lot more than a runway light.”

More on crosswinds
The chapter then goes on to detail exactly how it should be done. It covers controlling the aircraft while taxiing, on the take-off roll and once in the air, then how to adjust turns in the circuit to allow for the wind. Then it’s into the nitty-gritty of how to make the approach using each of the three commonly taught methods, discussing the pros and cons of each. The myths surrounding demonstrated crosswind are soundly debunked, and the use of flaps is examined.

Finally, the subject of gusting is introduced, which we have found to be of more concern to many pilots (even highly experienced ones) than crosswind landings themselves. Check the aerocircus.com. au website for an upcoming article that explores gusting in greater depth.

“For many pilots, COVID has restricted aerial activities and allowed rust to form on many of the important skills required to be safe and efficient in the air”

Get some help
Incomplete training is one issue. However, for many pilots, COVID has restricted aerial activities and allowed rust to form on many of the important skills required to be safe and effective in the air. This is another reason why pilots may need some assistance with climbing back to the top of their game.

Finding (and using) a good instructor is critical, even for those who have ‘finished’ their training and don’t intend to progress any further. Flying skills are perishable, bad habits creep in, and the world keeps changing. And you never know everything, unless you are Bob Hoover. Which you are not. Finally, a good book that helps to plug the skills gaps might be of some use.

Aero Circus has just published a new book called ‘Refine Your Flying Skills’. This article is an extract from the book, which explores a range of techniques pilots can use to enhance their professionalism when ‘behind the yoke’.

See aerocircus.com.au for more details.

Aero Circus is run by a small group of pilots who are independent of airlines, employers, flying schools or other industry associations. They attempt to write unbiased articles with the aim of helping pilots of any experience level get more out of aviation.