Something horrible happened last week. Right here, where I live in Florida. The emotional ripples are still settling down, although the event itself will be remembered for many years to come — for a lifetime by some.
By now you have almost certainly read about it in the press, or watched the wreckage being recovered on a nightly news broadcast.
Here in my neighborhood it was more powerfully felt, I can tell you.
The scenario is so mundane it is hard to believe four fatalities were the result. A training flight departed Lakeland Linder International Airport (KLAL) in a Piper Warrior with the intent to fly 14 miles east to practice landings at Winter Haven Regional Airport (KGIF). Simultaneously, a Piper J-3 Cub on straight floats was making its way home to Jack Brown’s Seaplane Base, located adjacent to the field in Winter Haven. According to the NTSB the two collided nearly head on.
This is very close to home for me. I didn’t see the accident, although I could have had I been looking out my home office window. I didn’t hear it. I wasn’t paying strict attention to the sound of aircraft that frequently buzz low over my home.
The aircraft hit each other and fell into Lake Hartridge, immediately east of the airport. I live on the banks of that lake. When I got the call just minutes after the accident, I stepped out into my yard. I could see the tail of the Cub on the water surrounded by recreational boaters who had sped to the spot in an effort to offer aid.
It was too late. Nothing could be done.
How did this happen? The answer to that question is not casual query. In a very real sense, our lives depend on finding the likely answer and including that knowledge in our future operations.
There is a myth of familiarity in aviation that feeds right into our very human tendency to relax and get comfortable. Put another way, complacency sets in.
We train at an airport that becomes the one we model all others on, at least in our head. We’ve seen the runways and the taxiways, the lighting system, and the traffic. We naturally begin to assume that our home field is pretty much the norm. What we see at our airport is what we’ll encounter at other airports, because the system is standardized. They’re all the same, more or less — or so we think.
Airports are not all the same. Procedures, while largely standardized, are not all universally accepted and applied across the board.
Consider this basic example. Let’s say a pilot learned to fly at a rural airport with just one runway, no obstacles to speak of in the area, and limited traffic. They might consider that airport to be a good example of what they’ll find elsewhere. It would be perfectly reasonable to make that assumption. That’s a belief that would be dispelled the first time they launched off over the horizon on a longer journey.
They are likely to encounter another equally rural airport, but this one has two runways. There are more decisions to make about how to enter the pattern for which runway. Complexity creeps into a process that used to be a no-brainer. Add a 1,000-foot-tall tower a half mile from the runways and all of a sudden the entry and exit options become truly confusing.
I say “all of a sudden” because although the runways have been there for years, and the tower has been standing tall for a good long time, many pilots do not incorporate the due diligence required by the regulations into their pre-flight processes. You know that’s true. I’ve certainly headed out unprepared before. I’m not proud of that fact, but I’m not in denial either. If we’re honest with ourselves, at least most of us will acknowledge that periodic failing.
Even if you are familiar and genuinely comfortable with a busy, towered environment where airplanes of all sizes and performance profiles are taking off and arriving, you might find yourself in a bit of a quandry when you show up at that rural, non-towered airport to find skydivers exiting an aircraft above you.
Each airport is unique. The operations at other airports differ from those on our home field. They may include operations we’re completely unfamiliar with. Lack of familiarity leads to confusion, which leads to poor decision-making, which leads to potentially bad things.
What if that non-towered airport has more than one runway and a busy helicopter operator on the field in addition to fixed wing traffic? Are you familiar enough with helicopter procedures to safely operate in close proximity? Can you anticipate what that helicopter is likely to do? Class G airspace doesn’t require radio communications. It is entirely possible they’re not self-announcing and can’t hear your calls.
Knowledge is power. Ignorance is risk.
Some airports host sailplane pilots, others welcome ultralight operations, a handful are home to considerable seaplane activity on or near the airport. We would all do well to know what kind of operations we can expect prior to our arrival on site, and to understand the procedures our fellow fliers consider to be optimal.
I’m not blaming anyone for this most recent, horrendous crash. It was an accident. However, we can learn from the event and make real efforts to prevent it in the future.
There is no regulation that prevents you from calling, writing, or visiting local airports to get a better understanding of how their unique procedures might affect your flights in the future. Talk to the helicopter folks, the glider pilots and their tow pilot friends to find out how they depart and approach the field. Learn how those seaplanes conduct themselves and include those operational standards into the planning for your flights.
A regularly scheduled safety stand-down for CFIs, students, and certificated pilots in the area would certainly be a good idea. Or perhaps we could all commit to simply attending a safety seminar or two in the coming year.
The key for all of us is to commit to safety as an active pursuit — without finger pointing, without casting aspersions on others. Let’s look to ourselves, our own understanding of the environments we fly into, and get better anticipating, seeing, and avoiding trouble.
Jamie, once again you raised the bar from the normal ‘blame game’ often played in these discussions. I thought of the time-honored phrase “But for the grace of God, there go I.” seems to apply. It’s often these shocking events that bring us back to reality from our stupor of normality.
It simply comes down to comprehension and competence. When there’s a collision at least one party was licensed without obtaining those. Inability to distinguish those traits in turn is the constant attempt to reinvent the wheel.
My impression is the article was not about speculating about the cause of the accident or debating the pros and cons of electronic devices, but rather to get pilots to do some homework BEFORE departure. Ironically Steve Krog has a good article in the latest Sport Aviation magazine entitled “Where Does a Good Landing Begin?” on that same subject.
I have learned from experience (and with help from CFR 14 91.103) to study all I can find about the destination airport, even if I was just there the day before.
Thanks to Jamie for another great article….
What about the Hawker jet that took off on runway 05 and did a kamikaze climb just before this crash? Lots of people in Pilot Place noticed that non-standard operation opposing the landing direction of the PA-28 … did anyone check the ADS-B to determine a time vs. the collision?
It will be important to know if the [2] birds that collided had operating/brilliant anti-collision lights… and if those lights could have been mutually VISIBLE [to each other].
In the 1980s I was flying over the SoCal desert approaching the Buckeye VORTAC, one late CAVU weekend afternoon. I was tired but I suddenly ‘heard’ my dad’s words “be wary… VORs are crossing points for traffic in all directions”. So, roughly 10-miles out I checked ‘all lights on’ and went ‘eyes-out’. Within the period of ~2-minutes approaching the VOR, I spotted 7 other aircraft [seven + me] crossing this station, from all directions of the compass at staggered altitudes. I was viscerally shocked… MOST of the single-engine birds had NO lights on… but a twin and a Cherokee 6 had strobes ‘on’.
THEN, about 1-minute after crossing the VOR I saw movement slightly above and about 500-feet to the right/abeam me: it was a fast single engine [Bonanza?] zooming-BY [+50-KT?] me at roughly the same altitude and course heading [as me]. DANG.
The ‘Big Sky, Little Me Theory’ for collision avoidance went right into the trash.
The seaplane base is on Lake Jessie on the west side of Winter Haven Regional. I don’t remember where I read it now, but some report indicated that some seaplane operations use Lake Hartridge on the east side of Winter Haven Regional because it is a larger lake. Unfortunately I don’t see any reference to that hazard (if it is correct) in the Chart Supplement for either the seaplane base or the regional airport.
The aviation authorities of England, Australia, New Zealand and other countries allow, even encourage the use of portable ADS-B in/out units (such as the SkyEcho) in aircraft without electrical systems. Indeed the UK CAA even offers a £250 rebate to purchase such equipment. Use of portable ADS-B out could substantially reduce the risks of midair collisions to those flying without electrical systems.
Here in the USA, the FAA for no apparent reason, has banned portable ADS-B out units.
It is past time to ask and pressure the FAA to allow the use of portable ADS-B out equipment in light airplanes, especially those without electrical systems.
Let’s take a good look at what the UK and other countries are doing to migrate the risk. Let’s take a look at equipment like the SkyEcho and see what we can do to reverse the FAA’s silly position on them
If the FAA allowed the use of portable ADS-B out units, I’d have one in my Piper J-5 Cub tomorrow.
https://uavionix.com/products/skyecho/?gclid=Cj0KCQjw2cWgBhDYARIsALggUhpU8mjGRElzUKbPdke1hGiw1xs8YFPl5WzF6RPtufidrvNJ5-N8FwoaAszXEALw_wcB
Gerald,
I looked at the link you sent and what a neat unit. And very well priced too. And you don’t need a transponder!! 12hrs of internal battery run time, wow.
I think that the problem with the FAA is they are more concerned about our little airplanes being a “terrorist” threat than the safety of the flying public. They care about you being identified (hence not allowing a unit to be portable) and would care less if an inexpensive solution is available that would increase safety.
I agree that if we had the option to use this device there would have been a better chance this accident could have been prevented.
Chris
That is a really neat unit. I learned to fly in a NORDO, no-electric J3 about 15 years ago in a rural part of the Midwestern US. I am grateful for that experience, but also have no issues carrying a handheld radio in the Cub I now own. I have said for years that I’d happily use a portable ADS-B solution if it were available.
I know some folks who are opposed because they say the other pilots should be looking outside (I don’t disagree), but the reality is that you can be right and dead all at the same time. My current base airport is decently busy with training and transient aircraft, with airspace constrained by two larger controlled fields adjacent, which funnels airplanes through a wedge of airspace. It may be difficult to require a portable ADS-B unit due to challenges in ensuring performance, but allowing them would sure be better than nothing.
The reality is that many pilots are NOT looking for you, or they won’t see you due to limitations of aircraft mix (low wing above high wing, etc.). I bought my portable ADS-B in receiver the week after flying back from a rural fly-in and having a Cherokee converge on me within a couple hundred feet or less – close enough that I could easily read the N-number. They approached from above and behind my left wing, and we never would have seen each other. I might have been a statistic if I hadn’t been flying a bit lower than normal.
This was a terribly unfortunate accident. Yet, it was preventable. We have to take this stance. Now, we as pilots are obligated to learn from it. Unless we all take responsibility for this outcome, instead of “blaming” who was at fault, it will happen again. Having flown both land and sea aircraft at this airport, I know it’s a risky environment. I challenge every pilot who reads about this tragic event to replay it in their own minds and in hangar chats to the goal of understanding how it could have been prevented, avoided, or altered in its outcome. Put yourself in the position of each of the four pilots and their mindsets for the entire flight, including preflight. Change the they way it happened. Anything less and we all become complicit and to blame. Harsh words maybe, but it’s in our power to not let this kind of loss happen to ourselves and those with whom we share the air. Do it for yourself and do it for me. Thank you!
Well written.
Terribly sad, and terrifying to know what lurks even to those who exercise typical caution. Some solace comes from rarity but being close to home sure blunts even that.
Collision avoidance systems (TCAS) all but ended this risk in more advanced airplanes and I’d be a fan of seeing widespread adoption. It would have prevented this. Even in my small craft I get alerts of appropriately-equipped traffic that gets within a minute or so of colliding. If I don’t see them, I turn. Requiring these things adds about $2k and can be run using battery solutions. I’ve tested one for a paramotor.
Freedom vs Safety is, and always will be a trade-off but events like this put some weight on the safety side.
It may be the time to require radio use at certain busy non-tower airports as Canada does.
google, ‘ vrf radio procedures in Canada’.
As was noted, one of the Cubs had a radio, probably a handheld, and made calls.
I don’t understand the difference between certified and non-certified equipment, like vhf radios, and nav instruments ? If they’re ok for experimental aircraft operating in the airspace , why can’t certified aircraft use the same, lower priced equipment ?
This is a horrible tragedy that hopefully never happens again. My heart goes out to the families of those involved in the accident. The J-3 Cub and Cherokee’s pilots should have used collision avoidance protocols, but even using protocols, these types of accidents are often unavoidable. Again, in loving memory of the pilots and passengers of both the Cherokee and the J-3 Cub.