I don't ever recall yelling impatiently at someone in the cockpit (I had a few instructors who were screaming skulls and I swore (pun if you missed it) that I would never allow myself to do that.
But a polite forceful support call was needed one dark night.
Synopsis: Dual instruction on newly arrived Lincoln captain to our squadron. He was a jovial former wartime Lancaster pilot with a DFC and Bar. Self a young QFI tasked to give the new arrival night flying at Townsville. Black night - very. We did a few left hand circuits and touch and go's which went OK. Then I asked him to make right turn after take off and head out to sea and climb to 5000ft for instrument approach.
The Lincoln was designed for single pilot ops and the captain had all the instruments, while the copilot position (also instructor seat) had nothing in front except various feathering buttons and engine starting/booster/fire warning/ morse keyand ident gizmo's/ - you name it.
From the right seat which was much lower than left seat, the occupant had to lean way over to the left to minimize parallax error when trying to see the one and only AH/compass/DG etc which was directly in front of the captain's seat.
After the last touch and go, we had reached 500 ft above the ocean below when the squadron leader commenced a Rate One right hand climbing turn through 30 degrees to the required heading. He asked for flap retraction at 500 ft but his cross-reference was rusty (he had been flying a desk for two years).
He failed to adjust the pitch attitude sufficiently to allow for the trim change with flaps coming up, and as the flaps came up he allowed the nose to drop ever so slightly and we gently descended in the dark towards the sea. He was totally on the clocks and I noticed the VSI go from 500 fpm up to 200 fpm down. This was getting interesting.
The airspeed gradually increased and as all this happened around 500-800 ft it was becoming clear he hadn't picked the problem. From the RH seat, I watched the radio altimeter over on his side bleeding off altitude and around 300 ft above the water and still descending I politely said "SIR - CHECK YOUR VSI". I had deliberately left it a bit late to see if he picked the gradual descent. But he hadn't.
With a foul oath he quickly hauled back on the wheel and that was the end of the story. Despite all his undoubted night flying experience over Nazi Germany, a simple scanning error could have caused the loss of an aircraft.
Later over a beer, I talked to a mate of mine who was a new QFI just joined the squadron and said to him you had better watch the old bloke because he is rusty on instruments. Then described what had happened.
Several months later it turned out to be a timely warning. We had been on detachment at Darwin on a mobility exercise with several Lincolns. At midnight, the squadron leader who had received his command several months earlier, took off and made a right hand climbing turn in and out of low cloud in order to set course over the top for home.
The new QFI sat in the bomb-aimer's seat right in the nose of the Lincoln as he was not part of the crew that night. He had a grandstand view. When the Lincoln was half way around the 270 degree departure turn and around 1500 ft agl, the QFI sensed a gradual descent. The aircraft was in IMC. Occasional moon light between cloud layers illuminated mangrove swamps below and he realised in horror the swamps were getting closer and closer. The young Sergeant copilot in the RH seat was busy setting boost and RPM and was not monitoring the captains instruments.
The QFI in the bomb-aimer's seat suddenly recalled my warning months earlier and shouted over the intercom "Pull up - for Christ's sake - Pull UP"
With a jerk on the controls the captain pulled back hard and the rest of the six hour flight was uneventful. Not a word was said. It proves there are occasions where a polite support call is all very fine; but sometimes a loud shout is needed
Last edited by Centaurus; 30th August 2010 at 14:16.