Three sorties later and I'm feeling better about the flight test.
Saturday 28th.
I had the aeroplane booked out to do some upper air work, which should have consisted of stalls and steep turns. I really need about three to three and a half thousand feet as a good safety margin and the weather obliged. There was a thin scattering of fluffy cumulus at about 2000 feet so that wasn't going to be a problem.
The actual problem was that I found myself doubting my knowledge of the airspace that I was flying in. I had the both the current, but tremendously obsolete, Irish chart and a copy of the AIC outlining the revised Dublin control zone. Unfortunately, I spent too much time double checking myself, trying to mentally overlay one over the other to unsure I wasn't going to infringe Dublin's airspace by going to 3000 feet. I put the vast majority of that doubt down to confidence - I am well able to read and interpret maps and charts but I haven't flown all that much on my own in the training area.
When I satisfied myself that I was indeed clear to go up to 3000 feet I decided that in the interest of safety, from a human factors perspective, I'd stay away from stalls. I was just a little flustered and it seemed to me that that time wasn't a good time to try stalls on my own not having done many of them. I restricted myself to steep turns instead. Better to do one of the exercises in comfort rather than try too much and not be comfortable enough to derive benefit from it.
The steep turns went well. Actually, I quite enjoy them. When I first encountered them in my training I was a reluctant to go to 45 degrees of bank let alone bring the the plane over another 12 degrees. The last time I did them with an instructor I felt so much more comfortable with them and they came rather easily. It's particularly satisfying to complete a 360 turn and fly into your own turbulence. That's pretty much what happened for all of them on Saturday. It got a bit tedious though, I mean, there I am wheeling around the sky in smooth air, then bump (little bump, future passengers, little bump), I pass through my wake, disturbing my play. I could have stayed up there all day but the plane was needed so I headed back to the 'field and called it a day.
Sunday 29th.
Another 8am start at the airport and another perfect day. I'd spent some time studying the charts Saturday evening to reassure myself that I had been right about the airspace and to remove that doubt from this morning's flight. This day I was going to navigate a little, not with a huge amount of planning, just enough to get me comfortable with the idea that rough navigation works. So I drew a line on a chart from Kilcock to Athboy; there was very little wind so a heading and speed was just measured off the chart. I'd take up the heading and in about 11 minutes I should be at Athboy.
So it came to pass - I arrived at Athboy. The next exercise was a diversion. I surprised myself and Athboy I said, "David, fly to Killucan". Remember now, we're in general calculation mode. Drawing another line on the chart, Killucan appears to be at the 7 o'clock position from Athboy, so seven times three is 21 giving me a heading to steer of 210 degrees. Using my fancy plotting ruler, I work out that 8 minutes should get me to Killucan and joy of joys, it did.
I moved a little east of Killucan over the quarries so as not to disturb the slumbering masses and off I went up to 3000 feet up to do my stalls. A couple in the clean configuration, a couple in the imaginary turn to base leg and a couple in the approach configuration and I was done. Done and happy. So done and happy that I went off and did another few steep turns, watching my shadow drift across some more fluffy cumulus below. I made a mental note of lovely photo for me to set up sometime when my licence is in my pocket and I'm a free agent - I'm not telling you what it is, you'll have to wait and see. It was nearly time to get back to base so I repositioned over Killucan and drew another line on the chart; this time to Enfield, then home. Maybe these diversions won't be so bad after all.
Back on the ground, fresh air and satisfaction filed the cockpit as I slid the canopy open. Today had been a big day. I demonstrated to myself that you can navigate using rules of thumb; that I can divert on my own if I have to; that stalls are something I can practise on my own; that turning and diving and playing among the clouds on a Sunday morning is a wonderful way to start the day. Most importantly though, I demonstrated to myself that passing my flight test is within reach.
Tuesday 31st.
Aeroplanes need attention. The DI was dippy and along with an impending 150 hour check it meant Tuesday was the last opportunity for me to fly for the rest of the week. The last big thing for me to do on my own was glide approaches. No DI gave me one more incentive to stay in the circuit that evening. It was a lovely evening with only a little cross wind; seven knots 30 degrees off the nose. 30 minutes on a clock is half past; half of 7 is 3.5. Try it, it works well:
15 degrees-quarter of an hour= quarter of the windspeed is crosswind;
45 degrees-three-quarters of an hour= quarter of the windspeed is crosswind;
60 degrees- full hour=all of the windspeed is cross wind.
You have to love rules of thumb.
I started with a few normal configuration circuits to warm up. They weren't my finest but they were respectable. A couple of flap-less landings followed those. I enjoy the non-standard configurations,they add interest and a little more of a challenge. With the fine evening the circuit was getting busy and the tower asked if I intended to stay for much longer. I had been waiting till there was just two of us in the circuit before trying a glide approach or two but since he asked, I told him that I was hoping to get a couple in but if he wanted me down I'd oblige. He called back "First in, best dressed" and gave me the okay for glide approaches. There was no way out, I'd have to try them.
First one. "Carb heat, pull the power, 69 knot best speed. Am I going to make the field? Yes-half flap. Keep the turn going but gently, no point in giving away altitude. Will I make the field? Yes - well into the field, final stage of flap is fine. And we're there. Nice one!" Second one ran similarly but I was too eager with the second stage of flap and I was going to land short. Retracting that second stage made little or no difference. I was still safe so I put the flap back out and added power. I could have gone around but I had enough height and time to pull it all together for a standard landing. "Okay - so it could have been a better glide approach," I thought, "but I know what I did wrong and I had enough brain capacity to land from it rather than going around in a panic". The messed -up glide approach and recovered landing gave me enough confidence to elect to try once more and put in a full stop.
The tower approved my last attempt and I hand learnt my lesson. The second stage of flap went out, but this time it went out because I needed it, when I needed it, not because I thought they should be out "because you land with full flap". I touched down nicely, satisfied, but I didn't allow my guard down enough to allow a smile. That came later when I was parked and safely shut down.
Back in the office my instructor asked how it went. I asked was he not watching; waiting for the usual banter about breaking the aeroplane. His response couldn't have pleased me more; "I was; I thought the glide approaches were particularly nice". Nice.
I still have to fly with the CFI and get his critique on my flying before the flight test but those three sorties have done my confidence no end of good. I accept that I may not pass the test but I'm happy that my handling skills are ready to present myself to an examiner.
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