I'll post one of my experiences with a forced landing.
The episode described below took place just before my skills test. I was flying with my instructor (Jon) and he's just pulled the power....
I trimmed for seventy knots, trying to locate a suitable field below me. Partly because there were so many to choose from, I dawdled in picking one out. Jon tried to hurry me, so I plumbed for a long field on my left hand side. I was just about to start my turn, when Jon asked me about the wind. “Where’s it coming from?” he asked.
“Erm…from the west?” I offered.
“From the west? Didn’t you look at the windsock when we took off?”
“Yeah – but I can’t remember which way it was pointing.”
“Well look at the wind arrow on your chart…you did draw one didn’t you?”
“Er...no…I forgot.”
“For God’s sake! This could be a life or death situation! You need to think about where the wind is coming from. You wouldn’t want to land in a field with a tailwind would you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I would be going to fast, and might overshoot the end.”
“Alleluia!” Jon remarked. “There is something going on in that head of yours!”
Perhaps because I was so bothered about choosing a field which would give me a landing into wind, or perhaps because my mind was attempting to work out where the wind was actually coming from, I ended up dawdling far too much for Jon’s liking. He told me that he had control, and as he was climbing away, he informed me that my dismal demonstration of a PFL would have resulted in a fail in my skills test.
Whilst I sat there in shame and turmoil, Jon told me that he would demonstrate one for me, and that I was to watch very carefully. When he had finished his impressive demonstration of how a PFL should have been carried out, he told me that in the test, the examiner would give me two chances to get one right. Jon told me that he believed that I could do it – given those parameters, and so we headed back to the airfield.
I passed my skills test.
Flock1.