Very interesting reading.
I shall now share an experience that I had a few weeks ago, that upon reflection was very close to life ending, but has been life changing.
I work for a gentleman who owns his own 206, is a rated pilot with maybe 200 hours flight time. He owns a ranch and the helipad is just shy of 4000 feet msl.
We had been up at the ranch all day and the clouds had what I would define as a very distinct base. You either had cloud or you didn't. We could also see the ocean some 25 miles away, so visibility was not a problem at all. Also the cloud layer ended maybe 5 miles from us and from then on the sky was clear.
We finished doing what we were doing and it was getting late, but I was not bothered about the return journey as we have done it many many times and there was sufficient light to get us out of the hills and over very well lit ground.
The helipad is situated on the top of a hill. We fired up and in my mind the ceiling was maybe 200 feet above us, so once again no problem. We would pick up and go off the pad and drop straight down in to the valley, which I knew was clear because we had just driven up it, and away, as I have done so before. By this time the main consideration was failing light rather than clouds.
Anyway to my surprise (I'm left seat, my boss right seat flying) we pick up and go straight. This takes us toward high ground, the top of which looked as though it was clear. As we climbed up, maybe 100 feet agl , to my surprise we started getting the tell tale 'whispy bits' of cloud coming past the bubble. I immediatley said "Stop climbing" thinking he would get the collective down and start a right turn to take us away down the valley. No response from the right seat.
By this time we were in it. Now I'm not talking low/poor visibility here. I'm talking full on IMC. To compound the problem the landing light was on, which fills the cockpit with an eerie white light. Now straight away we start a left turn. I tell him "We're turning! we're turning!" " Which way?!" he replies. The initial turn I felt 'seat of my pants' and confirmed it by looking over at the artificial horizon. Now as if the situation wasn't bad enough already the bulb on the artificial horizon was burned out. We were, I estimate, in a 45 degree left turn. Experience tells me that to the left there is a rather large hill. Luckily there was sufficient light that I could just make out the instrument. Maybe it was a good thing the landing light was on.
At this point I grab the aircraft from him, yelling " Get off, Get off!" as he had somewhat frozen up.
I pulled us back around to the right and remember looking at the artificial horizon and seeing that we were now in a gentle right turn. I have no idea what any of the other instruments were doing.
Through sheer good fortune, luck, God's good grace, whatever you might want to call it, we popped out in to a sucker hole after what seemed like an eternity. Straight away I bottomed the collective and descended. I remember seeing the ground as black in front of me and saying "Oh S**t" as my depth perception was messed up and by now the light was very bad. Luckily I saw a lake beneath me which indicated I was a good 750 agl. The more we dropped the better visibility became and I levelled off and we flew home.
So lessons learned from that? I don't even know where to start. Primarily I shouldn't have let the situation get as out of hand as it did. I have about 3200 hours all in helicopters and am instrument and commercially rated and also have an instructor ticket. In my opinion I was very slow in my reaction time. As soon as I saw the clouds coming past the bubble, rather than saying something, I should have done something i.e. get on the controls straight away. I also in the failing light underestimated the cloud base, thinking it was higher than it was. The entry in to the clouds was immediate. There was no gradual loss of visibility. It happened in a couple of seconds.
We are fitting a new artificial horizon. We have set ourselves an absolute latest time of departure. ( I live on the ranch, so was in no hurry to be going anywhere)
I remember thinking as we were fully in the clouds what a stupid way to kill myself and that frankly I knew better. I was honestly resigned to the fact that we were screwed and can promise you that the feeling that you get as you wait to slam into the ground is very, very unpleasant, particularly as you can't see anything.
Luckily a few days before I had done an instrument refresher course. Whether that helped or not I don't know. The thing is that it all happened so damn fast. From lift off to popping out into the sucker hole was maybe 2 minutes. As someone wrote earlier it is the transition from outside to inside that messes you up. When you are training you are ready for it to happen, so there is no surprise. When it happens for real and is unexpected you frankly crap yourself.
I consider myself to be very fortunate to have got out of it alive, primarily because we were so close to the ground having just lifted off.
I have also heard the last words of a student pilot caught under a cloud layer in an R22. The last words that he said were" I'm going to try and get on top." It took three weeks to find him in the ocean.
The most important lesson of all though is: DON'T GET IN THE SITUATION IN THE FIRST PLACE!