(As a follow-on to
KING6024's thread)
Bell 206B, St. Simons Island, Georgia. Long story: I (left seat), my wife, our nine-year-old son, and a good friend, were aboard when our pilot, an acquaintance of not many months, decided to show off by cycling the Emergency Fuel Cutoff switch. The annunciator panel flashed orange momentarily, then red. We were at 2,000’ MSL – too low for a restart. We autorotated to the beach on Sea Island; airspeed indicated at 40 kts., and the VSI was pegged at 2,000 f.p.m. The aircraft’s skids were bent upward 90 degrees, and as the nose dug into the sand, the main rotor chopped the tailboom off at the root. It also narrowly missed decapitating my wife, who was running from the wreckage with our boy in her arms. The starboard fuel bladder had ruptured and Jet A was trickling across the rear fuselage, dangerously close to a very hot turbine exhaust.
Forty-three years later, I still have an occasionally vivid nightmare about this accident. The chin bubble of the Jet Ranger gives an astonishingly clear view of cows, beaches, and
Terra Firma getting bigger in a hurry.
The pilot begged us to disclaim any involvement for it would cost him his job. We kept quiet, but I shall never forgive him for nearly taking our lives.
Chopper Flopper
- Ed