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Short Tales by a Tall Pilot
Short Tales by a Tall Pilot
Short Tales by a Tall Pilot
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Short Tales by a Tall Pilot

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When pilots sit around an airport or get together at a hotel lounge for beers or cocktails, theyre almost certain to regale each other, and anyone else who will listen, with embellished tales of their greatest aviation exploits. The longer these stories continue, the more the similarities grow between the pilots war stories and fish stories. As the night wears on, the exploits they share are likely to grow more and more elaborate and outlandish.

In the spirit of those war stories, author Jim Lewis, who has worked as a professional pilot since the mid-sixties, offers his share of stories from his experiences.

Many of these short stories are the result of mistakes in judgment, while others arose from deliberate decisions to proceed made from ignorance. A few were simply experiences that came with being a professional pilot, and two or three were blatant rule breaking. Lewis recalls landing in a soybean field, buzzing a nuclear submarine, flying under a bridge, running low on fuel, and tasting life in the cockpit of a jet liner. Some of his tales are humorous, while others take on a more dangerous nature. All of them, however, offer a lesson for others to learn.

LanguageEnglish
PublisheriUniverse
Release dateJan 28, 2013
ISBN9781475969887
Short Tales by a Tall Pilot
Author

Jim Lewis

Jim Lewis is the author of two previous books, a novel ‘Sister’, and in collaboration with photographer Jack Pierson, a book about Las Vegas, ‘Real Gone’.

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    Book preview

    Short Tales by a Tall Pilot - Jim Lewis

    Short Tales

    by a Tall Pilot

    Jim Lewis

    iUniverse, Inc.

    Bloomington

    Short Tales by a Tall Pilot

    Copyright © 2013 by Jim Lewis.

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

    iUniverse books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

    iUniverse

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.iuniverse.com

    1-800-Authors (1-800-288-4677)

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    ISBN: 978-1-4759-6987-0 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4759-6989-4 (hc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4759-6988-7 (ebk)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2013900054

    iUniverse rev. date: 1/15/2013

    Contents

    INTRODUCTION

    Chapter One

    GETTING STARTED

    Chapter Two

    THE EARLY YEARS

    Chapter Three

    LIFE AS A CFI

    Chapter Four

    LIFE AS A CHARTER PILOT

    Chapter Five

    LIFE AS A CORPORATE PILOT

    Chapter Six

    EARLY AIRLINE EXPERIENCES

    Chapter Seven

    AIRLINE INSTRUCTOR EXPERIENCES

    Chapter Eight

    LATER AIRLINE EXPERIENCES

    Chapter Nine

    DUMB THINGS

    Chapter Ten

    INTERESTING AND UNUSUAL TALES

    Chapter Eleven

    LIFE AS A MISSIONARY PILOT

    Chapter Twelve

    TOTAL EXPERIENCES

    I would like to publically thank my wife, Sue, and my two boys, Andy and Tim, who put up with me when I was hanging around airports, gone flying during many holidays, not doing all the honey do lists that generally needed to be done, not worrying when I was away from home flying, and always being there when I got back. The Lord provided the perfect mate for me since July of 1965, and my love for her has surpassed my love of aviation.

    This book is dedicated to my family, and people I have meet over the years as a professional pilot, flight instructor, and missionary pilot. They have in many ways contributed to making my life enjoyable, and we have shared a plethora of flying experiences together. Some are still flying, some are grounded, some have passed, but all were special.

    Several of the illustrations contained throughout this book are the work of a Tavares High School student, Carlos Andres Ortiz Campo. One is drawn by my grand daughter, Kasey. I am grateful for these contributions. Others are either drawn by me or are photographs taken by me or my friends.

    INTRODUCTION

    When pilots sit around an airport talking about flying or get together in a hotel lounge or bar, often referred to as a watering hole, almost without exception the tales get embellished or at the very least become better with age like a good quality wine. War stories, as pilots refer to their tales, are often akin to fish stories, but without quite the same reputation among the general populace. Sometimes a pilot who is trying to impress others with his prowess simply tells a tall tale with only a modicum of truth or realism to lend credibility. Usually as the night wears on one tale leads to another and as each successive story is told, pilots become more embolden in their tales, and very often the first tale doesn’t stand a chance to be the most intriguing. However, in this offering of tales I have tried not to expand too much on the truth, but years have passed since many of the occurrences, my mind is not as good at remembering as it used to be, and telling the tale several times may have added a little embellishment.

    Honestly, I have been an airport bum extraordinaire over most of the nearly 47 years of my life in aviation. Many say of me that I like to talk and need to speak at least 50,000 words a day. That may be my feminine side bursting forth, but many old men like to talk about themselves and their past conquests. Thus, I have spent many hours at various watering holes around the country and indeed, around the world, telling and listening to aviation stories. Some are certainly better than others, but all could be very interesting to a person who is passionate about flying. However, the stories penned herein all happened to me personally, and may be read or not as one pleases. Ole Ben Franklin said, I shall a good deal gratify my own vanity. On the other hand, the Scriptures tell us we should not think more highly of ourselves than we ought. I believe God has given me a gift of being able to fly an aircraft, and I want to give Him the glory for that, and for keeping me out of trouble all these years in spite of the decisions that I made that were often not very wise.

    Many friends have told me that I should write a book. Until recently I simply thought that no one except my family or possibly close friends would really be interested in all the aviation experiences that have happened to me. Some of the tales may prove to be boring for some folks, or maybe I have told them so many times they have lost the excitement of the experience. There is a definition of flying that may apply: Flying is hours and hours of shear boredom interspersed by moments of stark terror. Although stark terror is certainly an exaggeration for me because I have never experienced that emotion while flying, the boredom is real at times. In nearly 30,000 hours of flying, these tales are the ones I remember. Either my memory has failed me or the remainder of the hours spent fall into the boredom category. Occasionally someone tells a great story that jogs my mind about an experience that is not included here, but it would take too long to tell everything.

    My initial motivation to pursue this endeavor was to let my grand children know a little about their Pap, that being a name that for some unknown reason I wanted them to call me, and with which I am very happy. We can’t live our lives over again, so the next best thing is to recall events from our life, and share them by putting our adventures down in writing which might give them a modicum of permanency.

    These tales are much better by being shared verbally with body and hand gestures, so please use your imagination generously and responsibly. If any reader gets enjoyment from these pages, then I will also be thrilled and happy. It was fun in writing and remembering. Many of these short stories were precipitated by mistakes in judgment, and some have been through deliberate decisions to proceed made from ignorance, although, most pilots do not like to admit to ignorance. A few were simply experiences that came with being a professional pilot, and two or three were blatant rule breaking. As a small disclaimer, flying back in the sixties and seventies was more relaxed in terms of aircraft check outs, insurance requirements, and dealing with the FAA concerning possible rule infractions. It was not on the order of The Great Waldo Pepper, but it was a gentler and kinder time.

    Of course, most of the reason we have additional rules and regulations is because pilots get into trouble and many antics result in accidents and loss of life which is not acceptable. Aviation is not always safe, but we can try to make it so in any way possible. In reading these tales, please try to take a lesson from each one, and don’t try any of this at home or without supervision. If you are reading this and are employed by the FAA, consider all these tales pure fiction. Also, the statute of limitations has long since run out on the tales described, and may go back over 10, 20, 30 or even 40 years. There is no intent in any story to be critical of any organization, person or aircraft, and some names have been changed. I loved my career, the people I worked with, and the aircraft that I flew. Some stories may be slightly askew or possibly embellished due to the loss of memory of an old guy.

    In 1965, I was engaged in teaching math at a high school and served as a football coach for the junior high in Troy, Ohio, where the Waco Aircraft Company made its start in history. Teaching was an enjoyment to me, but my love of aviation has truly been a passion since my first introductory flight lesson. My goal, when I started flying, was to incorporate the two careers: teaching and flying. How could I go wrong by getting my start in flying in the same location where the Wright Brothers lived, and a place that is rich in aviation history?

    James N. Lewis

    Chapter One

    GETTING STARTED

    Getting Advice: High school guidance counselors, many of whom were WWII veterans, told me I could not be a pilot because of my 6' 4 height, 210 lb frame, and lack of 20-20 vision. I have no grudge against them because they were basing their views on their experience that pilots were mostly 5' 10, 175 lbs with perfect vision, but they were wrong. Being a pilot is all I ever wanted to be, and during my high school years I was an aviation enthusiast. I made drawings of airplanes, built models, talked with a neighbor who was a military aircraft mechanic, and spent hours working on projects concerning aviation instruments and aerodynamics. If I couldn’t fly, I could become an aeronautical engineer, and build aircraft.

    1.1%20One%20of%20my%20first%20drawings%20of%20aircraft%20instruments%20in%201958.jpg

    1.1 An example of one of my first drawings of aircraft instruments in 1958

    1.2%20One%20of%20my%20first%20aircraft%20drawings%20in%201958.jpg

    1.2 An example of one of my first drawings of an aircraft in 1958

    After two years of engineering at Ohio Northern University, it became obvious to me that I was not cut out to work in an office or sit at a drafting board all day. A neighbor, and friend of our family, Phil Moore, was a high school teacher, and he told me that he thought I had the personality to become one as well. So, my thoughts turned to teaching which later became a passion for me probably because I like to talk. Upon college graduation I worked as a math teacher in Troy, Ohio, but the thought of being a pilot never left me.

    First Flight: I have no idea what kind of a day it was on April 21, 1966, but I do know a feeling of exhilaration and anticipation existed within me as I sped down Interstate 75 toward Ohio Aviation located at the James D. Cox Municipal Airport in Vandalia, Ohio. Finally getting into an airplane and going for an introductory flight lesson would be a childhood dream coming to fruition. I met the instructor who was going to take me aloft for the very first time. According to my log book his name was Bill, but I can not read his last name, and I never flew with him again. The plane was a Cessna 150, N6723F.

    Over the next three weeks, I had two more flights with different instructors, and one would have a great effect on my techniques as a flight instructor. The issue was that I could feel my second instructor riding the flight controls. I did not know whether he was flying the plane or I was controlling it. At once I determined that when I became an instructor, I would never touch the flight controls unless I told my student, or we were in danger of a mishap. Since then I have been able to do exactly that, and my instructing techniques were greatly improved because of it. In my humble opinion, flight instructors who ride the controls while a student is flying do a disservice to their student.

    For those of you who don’t remember 1966, the cost of flying was astronomical with dual instruction costing a whopping $16.00 per hour, and solo in the Cessna 150 $9.00 per hour wet. Ohio Aviation had a Private Pilot Course that was $495.00. This price included ground school classes two nights a week for six weeks, an E6B flight computer, plotter, local sectional chart, all books, the exam, and a guarantee of a Private Pilot’s License if it was completed within six months. The cost of ground school for $75, if taken separately, could be applied toward the total package. I paid for the entire course on May 2nd, and that meant that on November 2nd my account would read $0.00, or I would have my license. If I got my license before that date, the account would also be $0.00.

    The day I paid for the course, I flew with a perfect gentleman named Henry K. Biddle. I liked Hank a lot, and he let me control the plane. Hank was not a small man either, and that little Cessna 150 lifted a heavy load when we flew. The sight of a couple of 200 plus pound guys crawling into the seats of a small two seat aircraft brought about a little skepticism from an observer or two. Later in ground school, when we were on the subject of weight and balance, I discovered that with Hank and I in the plane we could carry exactly 7 gallons of fuel to be within maximum take-off gross weight. When I told Hank he nodded, and said, I know. I determined I needed to lose some weight if I was going to be a pilot.

    As a teacher, I love being in class, and that led me to jump right into the Private Pilot ground school in order to get as much flight knowledge as possible, and to get the written test passed before continuing with flight training. Many students make the mistake of flying, but not studying for the written until much later. This will cost the student many extra dollars to get a license. The military and the airlines spend hours in ground school before getting into an aircraft. It is the best way to learn flying, and save money.

    More Firsts: Solo came one month and a day after my introductory flight. I had amassed a grand total of 11.7 hours. The plane was N8254S (Sugar was the phonetic alphabet for S in 1966). A few days later, I was flying solo in the school’s designated practice area doing stalls and slow flight when movement on the ground caught my attention. I looked down and observed a very large shadow pass quite close to the shadow of my little plane.

    1.3%20Looking%20down%20at%20shadows.jpg

    1.3 Looking down at shadows in the practice area

    I quickly looked around and discovered that a TWA Super Constellation had passed just behind and over the top of me about 1000 feet. It was my first thought that another airplane might be flying around in the same airspace occupied by me, and in my practice area. I also learned that watching shadows on the ground during sunny days can be quite helpful in spotting aircraft that might be flying in close proximity, and is also helpful in parking next to another aircraft to determine the wing tip clearance. Keeping watch outside the plane for other traffic is also a practice that I emphasize to students from day one of their flight training.

    In June, I was on my first solo cross country from Dayton, to Louisville, to Lexington, to Cincinnati, and back to Dayton. The first leg was 1:45 minutes into headwinds, and went perfectly. Of course that is my opinion. The second leg was going equally well, and I called Lexington tower over a small town about 10 miles to the west which was right on course. They told me to report right downwind for runway 22. Piece of cake! Several minutes later I had not seen the airport, and time of my flight log told me I had passed it.

    Thankfully the 150 was equipped with a Narco Omnigator Mark 3 which enabled me to communicate and navigate at the same time. This was an advanced feature in 1966 for a Cessna 150 radio. I tuned in the VOR, discovered I was south on the 180 radial, and turned north. About that time the tower asked about my position, and I told them I was tracking north toward the VOR. The controller told me to fly outbound on the 303 degree radial and call over the VOR. No problem. I professionally got to the VOR, tuned the OBS, tracked outbound on the 330 radial, and called the tower. I had all the numbers correct, just not in the right order. I was told to call downwind for 22. A few minutes later, again the tower asked my position. My reply was I’m tracking out on the 330 radial.

    The tower controller figured out that he was dealing with a novice, and said, N8254Sugar, look around, what do you see? I replied, I’m over a large racetrack. My instructor had taught me race tracks were good checkpoints. That’s not much help 54Sugar, there are 12 race tracks in Lexington, answered the controller. Another try found me saying, How about a large mall next to an interstate highway? His reply, Turn left and follow that highway to the airport. When I turned to the left, the airport filled my entire windshield. I had been within 3 miles of the field and did not see a 7000 foot runway because I was looking over the nose of the plane, and not looking around in other directions. Good lesson learned about not to get fixated looking in one direction.

    On my way north, I skipped landing at Cincinnati because it was getting along in time, and my instructor later reamed me out for not landing there, but I had flown enough for that day, and just wanted to get home. The total solo cross country time was 4.2 hours in the logbook. Today, instructors seem to hesitate sending students out on a 100nm cross country that only takes 45-50 minutes in a Cessna 172, and the FAA only requires 5 hours of cross country for a license. Had I landed in Cincinnati, I might have gotten the entire 5 hours on my first solo. By the end of June, I had completed my required 10 hours of solo cross country, and was working on the maneuvers for a check ride. My cross countries were great experiences. As a current flight instructor, I usually have my students go on a triangle with at least one 120nm cross country leg on their first solo. This tends to build a lot of confidence. I have rarely had a student experience any problems with going longer distances on their solo flying.

    A Check Ride: On the day of my Private Pilot check ride a large squall line was moving into eastern Indiana from the west, and was directly in the path of the cross country the examiner had assigned. After the oral exam was completed, I told the examiner that I would not head out, and elected to cancel the trip. He said it was a good decision, and then said, Let’s go. We took off, and headed west toward the squall line. Apprehension began to set in when we could see the dark boiling clouds ahead. Our course was taking us directly at the squall line. It looked black, and very ominous. I was ready to turn back, but the next check point was only three more miles. The examiner wanted me to continue to that point to get a ground speed check, and then turn away. As I began to calculate our speed, the aircraft started to climb rather dramatically. My heart rate climbed as fast as the plane when the examiner took control, and put the aircraft into what seemed to be a 90 degree bank. It probably was not that steep. The Cessna 150 was climbing at 1000 feet/minute with the throttle at idle. Nice day for a glider, but the whole incident shook me a little. Soon we were flying away from the squall line, holding altitude, and all was well. This ended my first experience with flight around thunderstorm activity.

    We then diverted to a grass strip for some short field landings over an obstacle. I had never landed on grass, and my practice of landing over an obstacle was done from 100 feet, where when the power was cut, one had to put the nose down rather drastically to hold airspeed prior to the flare. I did not fair well at the first attempt. My emotional state was still reeling somewhat by the encounter with the thunderstorms which I could see were again threatening from the west and my heartbeat had not settled to normal yet. In addition the power lines at the end of the runway were only 20 feet high instead of the 100 feet that I had practiced for obstacle landings. After a couple of attempts, both ending with rather dramatic bounces followed by a go-around, the examiner took the controls and demonstrated a perfect short field full stop landing.

    1.4%20Grass%20field%20landing%20over%20telephone%20wires.jpg

    1.4 Grass field landing over telephone wires

    At this point the squall line was nearly upon us, so we rushed to a tie down spot, secured the airplane, and got into the hanger just as the rain hit. It poured down for 45 minutes. We waited another 45 minutes for the field to dry, and the squall line to completely pass. This gave an opportunity to do a soft field take off, and fly back to Dayton doing stalls, steep turns and ground reference maneuvers. Upon landing the examiner told me I needed more practice on my short field landings over an obstacle, and I did not get the license that day.

    After another hour of dual, on July 15, 1966, the examiner and I went flying for 35 minutes, did a couple of short field landings, and he issued Private Pilot’s license #1697776. The next day I took my wife up for a ride as my first passenger. She said she enjoyed it.

    I had finished everything in two and ½ months with 46.8 hours, and a balance of $0.00 was now in my account. $495.00 divided by 46.8 hours was a little less than $11.00 per flight hour. I do not know how Ohio Aviation made a profit selling guaranteed Private Pilot courses unless most of their students did not finish in the prescribed six months. They surely did not profit on my course, but I continued to rent airplanes from them, and perhaps that is the answer.

    Hank checked me out in a Cessna 172 a couple of days later, and I never saw him again. The

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