Your Scariest Flight ?

[Fonsini]

Either as PIC or PAX.

Mine ?

BA transatlantic in economy back in the day on a 747 classic at 2am with pretty much everyone else asleep. The flight engineer appears from the cockpit armed with a toolbox and proceeds to lift floor panels and gets to work with an adjustable spanner. Half an hour later he grunts and mutters “Christ, I hope that holds” and walks back to the cockpit. To this day I have no idea what he was up to, but I spent the next 4 hours writing farewell notes on napkins.

Anyone ?

[Self loading bear]

Scariest flights?
There are a few offshore helicopter flights which come to mind:

On the warmest day in June
Waiting already dressed in the 3 layer survival suit for a one and an half hour flight (the farthest you can go from Den Helder)
“Flight delayed 1 hour”
No reason given. We are sweating already in the suits with the sun full on the glass wall of the departure lounge.
After 3 quarters we see the Tiger being pulled out of the hangar.
Pilot tries to start the engines.
Pilot climbs out and up to the engine, slides cowling back and fiddles something.
We are thinking, “since when do pilots know something about engines?”
Pilot slides back the cowling and manages to start the engine.

“Ok, everybody ready?;
Hand over your check-in card to the flight attendant!”
”Have a nice flight”

yeah, thank you!

[RetiredBA/BY]

Either as PIC or PAX.

Mine ?

BA transatlantic in economy back in the day on a 747 classic at 2am with pretty much everyone else asleep. The flight engineer appears from the cockpit armed with a toolbox and proceeds to lift floor panels and gets to work with an adjustable scanner. Half an hour later he grunts and mutters “Christ, I hope that holds” and walks back to the cockpit. To this day I have no idea what he was up to, but I spent the next 4 hours writing farewell notes on napkins.

Anyone ?
Guess he was having a joke with the cabin crew. Even flight engineers sometimes have a sense of humour!

[10 DME ARC]

As a young lad in the late 70's I would hang around my local airfield, EGNU Usworth now Nissan UK, and do any old job in return for a flight! One warm Sunday afternoon me and a friend washed and polished a fairly new PA-28 Turbo Arrow 3 with the promise of a flight when the owner returned later in the afternoon. We waited and waited but he turned up early evening with a business contact who he wanted to drop at the old Doncaster airfield, a grass field near the race track.
My friend and I jumped in the back and off we went! On the flight south the sun started to go down and the pilot turned and advised 'us' in the back that the airfield had no lights but he had arranged with the CFI to line cars up each side of the runway! This happened and we safely landed and dropped the businessman, I jumped out of the back and sat in the RH front seat and we taxied out. As we lined up we noticed two of the cars had gone so just one either side! But the pilot was happy and full power set and we rolled, we soon passed the cars and all looked well with only the landing lights to show us the runway. Just before rotation the grass in front went long and we went off the side of the runway! The pilot elected to continue even though the speed had dropped! We eventually got airborne stall warning screaming as the edge of the airfield approached!! We cleared some houses by 'not a lot' and eventually picked up speed to stop the noise!
The things you do as a young flying mad lad!!

[Mad Monk]

1977, sitting next to pilot in Piper Aztec.
Rather sharp descent and later ascent into / out of Victoria Falls Airport from/to Bulawayo.
Rapid attitude to strip owing to the Terrs a few miles to the North had ground to air missiles.
Day after I left the Falls one landed on the Elephant Hills Hotel and destroyed it.
Minibus to/from Hotel escorted by a pair of Landies with half-inch Brownings mounted; they may have been .303s but seemed larger to me having used .303s
Small bar not really for visitors at the back of the hotel, had a few beers and games of darts with the off-duty chaps on the line.

[ShyTorque]

One very dark and wet Sunday night, Far East, sitting 80 miles offshore in the left seat of a search and rescue equipped S-76 helicopter, in a roaring gale. Over a ship with the RHS pilot and the winch op trying desperately to get the winch man on board to recover a casualty. The ship was pitching and rolling hard. The winch was on the right and all I could see was an occasional glimpse of the top of the ship’s main mast, through the lower transparency.

The voice “patter” from the winch op suddenly went up in pitch. I sensed that the handling pilot had become tense and was beginning to over control. Suddenly, I saw the top of the ship’s mast pass laterally and very close underneath the aircraft. I felt we were very likely to get swiped by it so I had no option but to interrupt the winch op’s patter by declaring “UP FIVE!”. Something I really didn’t want to do because I couldn’t see the full picture.

I felt the aircraft rise, but the over controlling continued and my backside was telling me things were getting really dangerous. The only thing I could think if doing was to place my hand lightly on the cyclic and say “Steady, ******!”, addressing the pilot by his first name.

Thankfully, he did steady. We completed the job and returned with the casualty. The other pilot told me later that my input was very welcome, things were beginning to get beyond him.

Still have bad dreams about that one. Had we been hit by the mast, I’m sure I wouldn’t be here writing about it.

[rog747]

March 1980 I had been working in Karachi when we at BMA British Midland were wet leasing our 707's to PIA.
After my posting in KHI, I had over a month's leave due, and PIA were kind enough to give me a pair FC FOC SBY tickets, so rather than a rainy cold month off back in London I flew an old PIA 720B down to Ceylon Colombo - 10 days on this lovely island then I flew over on then brand new new Air Lanka's 737-200 once a week flight (50% firm ticket) to Male on the undiscovered Maldives for 3 weeks on a tiny little island, ' Robinson Crusoe ' bliss...(USD $15 a day Full Board)

On the long journey home it began with flying MLE-CMB to connect with the middle of the night PIA flight to KHI, to then pick up the morning PIA 747 service to LHR with stops at DXB FCO FRA AMS and ORY phew! (all those meals)
At CMB we were coached out to the aircraft in Tropical heat at about 01.00 in the morning, expecting another PIA 720B but pulled up by an old ex Swissair DC-8 52 HB-IDB with a little sticker by the front door 'on lease to PIA'
Hmmm I thought will this might be fun...

Plane was half empty so had the front FC cabin to myself - old fashioned interior but comfy and nostalgic. CC were a mix of local girls and I think some French Girls.
This old DC-8 was now owned by Cargolux.

Uneventful flight then a long dark approach to KHI - no lights on the ground - no horizon - It was just desert around the airfield -
Touched down very fast - I felt little, or no braking, Thrust Reverse came on, then maximum full power reverse and we still did not slow down -
I thought well OK, it is flat and sandy beyond the end of the runway...Head down methinks...
We did slow but then lurched violently off to the left and did come to a stop with all 4 still screaming in reverse. Not sure if we were in the dirt or not as it was so dark
Eventually I saw a follow-me van come up and we started off again using a huge amount of power to get going -
CC said nothing and upon disembarking the FD crew chaps looked a very sickly green.
I just said Bye, thanks! - they said nothing LOL.

[Ancient Mariner]

Most Chinese domestic flights early 90'ies, but the memorable one was an SAS B767 flight Beijing to Copenhagen about the same time.
While climbing out of PEK something went bang, and the whole aircraft started to shake like crazy. I actually thought some large panel had come off and was flapping around. Some were visibly upset, had a couple across the aisle saying their last goodbyes and some muted screaming was heard from Economy.
I did my best stiff upper lip and managed to get another whisky before the captain apparently issued some orders to cabin crew and they started a walkabout checking on belts and people.
After what seem like an eternity the vibrations subsided, the Swedish Captain came on the PA and we returned, and landed back at PEK. Luckily Swiss, Lufthansa and Air France all held their flights and those who didn't want to spend more time in Beijing was divided between them. I was only delayed about 3 hours, not bad.
Per

[RetiredBA/BY]

As a young lad in the late 70's I would hang around my local airfield, EGNU Usworth !
Ahhhhh Usworth!
Once anRAF airfield opposite my school where I fell in love with flying as a kid, watching the Ansons and Chipmunks. Used to fly control line models in the hangar there after it closed.
A few years later I overflew it in my Jet Provost from Acklington. Happy days !

[Herod]

Northern UK, winter. Leed-Bradford. Shorts 3-60. after take-off, levelled soon at what was a low altitude. Cabin windows iced up, but the noise made by the ice thrown off the props told of bad icing conditions. With a little knowledge of aerodynamics I'm thinking "aircraft will be slowing down due degraded flying capability, and stall speed will be going up, for the same reason. At some point the flying speed and the stall speed will meet. The engines were on full power, and the aircraft landed at Manchester some 20-25 minutes after departing Leeds-Bradford. While taxying in, big chunks of ice fell off the struts. Terrifying. Perhaps more so because, for my sins, I was the captain!! Alopecia Nervosa isn't funny. It makes your hair fall out. :eek:

[twb3]

One of only two passengers on a Beech 99, early morning flight. The crew left the curtain unzipped, so I could see we were closing on a crescent-shaped echo on the weather radar. Throttles well forward. When we hit the leading edge of the echo, things got interesting for a bit. Felt like a giant had struck the aircraft from below. I had placed my briefcase on an empty seat across the aisle and secured it by fastening the seatbelt through the handle. At one point the case was straight up in the air, restrained by the belt. We landed (obviously) and I asked the F/O when he went back to open the door "what is the maneuvering speed on this airplane?" Answer "we thought that was ground return". OK. Let me off this airplane, please.

[JOSHUA]

Northern UK, winter. Leed-Bradford. Shorts 3-60. after take-off, levelled soon at what was a low altitude. Cabin windows iced up, but the noise made by the ice thrown off the props told of bad icing conditions. With a little knowledge of aerodynamics I'm thinking "aircraft will be slowing down due degraded flying capability, and stall speed will be going up, for the same reason. At some point the flying speed and the stall speed will meet. The engines were on full power, and the aircraft landed at Manchester some 20-25 minutes after departing Leeds-Bradford. While taxying in, big chunks of ice fell off the struts. Terrifying. Perhaps more so because, for my sins, I was the captain!! Alopecia Nervosa isn't funny. It makes your hair fall out. :eek:

Almost identical to my experience as a new copilot on an ATR42 - LCY- LBA. Entered rain ice at circa FL120, saw blue sky as passing FL150 and thought we’d get out on top....except we were hoodwinked, Max torque, icing speeds etc yet we were decelerating in level flight - remember looking across at my tough Yorkshire Captain and thinking he was quiet and looked a lot paler than normal - that’s when I started getting a tad nervous given the ATR’s rep in icing. We promptly descended (I think under a pan call) and found air clear of icing at FL80, outside controlled airspace.
On landing at Leeds where the temp was about 8c, big lumps of ice were dropping off the tail plane onto the ramp, that really bought it home to me how quickly icing can catch you out in a turboprop.

[Wycombe]

About my scariest was one of my first, as an 11 year-old in 1975.

It happened at Dubrovnik while arriving from Gatwick in a British Airtours 707. It was raining heavily and the approach was bumpy. On "touchdown" some rubber jungle deployed and my mother (who wasn't the happiest flyer at the best of times) pointed frantically out of the window on her side of the aircraft. A nosewheel had detached and was bouncing off into the grass next to the runway. I think at least one main gear tyre was burst also.

I remember reflecting years later that I didn't see the danger in this like I would if it happened today. It says a lot about the safety of aviation that in the following 40 odd years, I've flown hundreds of times (and flown myself for a few hundred hours) and that was the most serious incident I've had.

[brakedwell]

In 1959 I had been on 152 Sqn for only a few months and was flying a Twin Pioneer from Bait al Falaj, Muscat to RAF Sharjah. We were given clearance to descend from around 6000 feet at about 20 miles from the airfield. At around 3000 feet we entered what I thought was a layer of thin cloud. Immediately the windscreen became covered with a greenish slime and visibilty ahead was zero. The windscreen wipers only made things worse and the oil temperatures began to rise. I tried spraying deicing fluid on the windscreen, but this seemed to make the mess worse, so I opened my side window, kept minimal power as the temperature of the engines kept rising. Eventually we circled then landed at Sharjah using my open side window to land.
After getting out of the Twin Pin we discovered we had flown through a locust swarm which had filled the oil coolers with a congealed mass of dead locusts and covered the windscreen and leading edges of the wings with green slime. The groundcrew reckoned five or ten minutes more flying would have seen both engines fail.

[OvertHawk]

One very dark and wet Sunday night, Far East, sitting 80 miles offshore in the left seat of a search and rescue equipped S-76 helicopter, in a roaring gale. Over a ship with the RHS pilot and the winch op trying desperately to get the winch man on board to recover a casualty. The ship was pitching and rolling hard. The winch was on the right and all I could see was an occasional glimpse of the top of the ship’s main mast, through the lower transparency.

The voice “patter” from the winch op suddenly went up in pitch. I sensed that the handling pilot had become tense and was beginning to over control. Suddenly, I saw the top of the ship’s mast pass laterally and very close underneath the aircraft. I felt we were very likely to get swiped by it so I had no option but to interrupt the winch op’s patter by declaring “UP FIVE!”. Something I really didn’t want to do because I couldn’t see the full picture.

I felt the aircraft rise, but the over controlling continued and my backside was telling me things were getting really dangerous. The only thing I could think if doing was to place my hand lightly on the cyclic and say “Steady, ******!”, addressing the pilot by his first name.

Thankfully, he did steady. We completed the job and returned with the casualty. The other pilot told me later that my input was very welcome, things were beginning to get beyond him.

Still have bad dreams about that one. Had we been hit by the mast, I’m sure I wouldn’t be here writing about it.


The few minutes, or even just a few seconds, in each of our careers where we actually earn our money.

Nice job Shy

[edi_local]

I have had a few bad weather flights, but only 2 where I felt particularly scared that something may actually be going wrong.

The first was a few years ago flying HKG-ICN on a JejuAir 737 (which was still decorated in its former owner's branding in the toilets, that being Ryanair). It was not very rough but at night time and even at cruising altitude we seemed to be in the very dense cloud for most of the flight. The wing landing lights kept coming on sporadically, which seemed very odd when in the cruise and I couldn't work out why they would be doing so (does anyone know why?). It may not have been anything out of the ordinary, but I have been on hundreds of flights, most of them at night and I had never experienced that before or since. There didn't seem to be any kind of pattern with the light flashing, which made me think it was something going wrong with the electrics rather than a pilot controlling it.

The second time I felt uneasy was on an Air Asia flight from PEN-KUL last year. We seemed to climb at an incredibly steep angle on takeoff from PEN. It was much more noticeable than any other flights I had been on. The cabin did shudder a bit too and some people around me looked a bit concerned before we eventually leveled out. I really did feel like the captain was trying to get us vertical.

[fergusd]

Probably 30 years ago I was on a small turboprop out of basle/mulhouse to zurich which had an engine failure and rejected takeoff, lots of bad noises and fire bells, this was in the days when open cockpits were the norm and I had a great view of the action . . . I had just hassled my way onto an overbooked flight as I wanted to get home for my 2 days off for the month comissioning the new (at the time) eurostar trains out of a train yard in a red light district in strasbourg (they complained about the noise to the mayor, we hadn't got the software written to make the fans go quiet when under no load) . . . anyway I ended up on the next flight, somewhat surreal checking in again with the smell of broken engine in your clothes . . . I think I learned a lot of trust in flight crews during those years of flying in small aircraft in the winter in the mountains where you could see the flight crew at work . . . a swissair with no chocolate and no champagne was a measure to judge how rough a flight was going to be ;-) . . . kinda fun . . .

I've not had another moment or justifiable concern in well over a million miles of travel . . .

[POBJOY]

Well there was the time I was on a late banner tow and arrived back at base in the 'gloom' to find it even 'gloomier', and then realised our local café would be shutting any minute.
Quick call to the banner ground man to leave the banner and get down to the café to order food before it closed. He only just made it and we very nearly missed our double egg bacon and chips. Wow that was a close call.

[Rwy in Sight]

I thought I had nothing to write here until I read Wycombe's contribution. In the mid-70's I flew two or three times a year to CFU on a Boeing 727-284. As I was barely more than a toddler I was given a window seat. However for a number of flights I was sure the wing would break (as it moved up and down rather intensively in my mind) and we would die. Fortunately after a couple of years I realized this wasn't going to happen and I felt much better and a great love between me and aviation started.

A few minutes of concern appeared on a ATR flight out of SMI in November 2007 when the leading edge of the wing become white due to frost accumulation and I wasn't sure the boots would be able to handle it.

Another block of scary flights were in autumn 2009 and it is a bit weird I take only Slasher would understand me. In September 2009 I was turned down by a lady Slasher and myself would appreciate very much. Right after that, any time we encountered any turbulence in flight would remind me the initial events (as we knew back then) of AF447 and I was expecting a crash. After a fabulous flight to CFU on a gin clear day - that I am sorry I didn't have a camera on my hands the problem went away and I am still looking for a scary flight during a business trip.

[ancientaviator62]

Retired BA/BY,
lived about 200 yds from RAF Usworth (Hylton Castle Council Estate) and had my first flight there as an Air Cadet (2214 Sqn). It was in on 25 July 1956 in Anson VV 994. I used to go there whenever possible to help out clean/refuel the Chipmunks and the Ansons and Oxfords. Very happy days.

[PAXboy]

When I saw the thread title, I had no idea of the truly hairy stories to read - so interesting and some genuine 'Laugh Out Loud' moments - such as seeing a wheel make its own taxi run, however uncomfortable for those inside the tube.

My most memorable is minor by comparison: November 1970, Air Rhodesia (as it then was) SAY (now HRE) to JNB on a Sunday morning. Vickers Viscount.
A thunderstorm that was too big to go around and too tall for the Viscount to go over. I discovered many years later the usual cruise was about FL160 and it's Ceiling about 220 but please do correct on that but I have no idea which model of Viscount it was.

We entered the storm about an hour into the scheduled two hour sector that was extended by 30 minutes due to the storm and the turbulence was significant. Many pax lost their breakfast. I was 15 and not scared that we would crash, although made very uncomfortable by the turbulence, which has turned out to be the strongest I have ever encountered. I had a window on the Port side and watched the wing flex as we were surrounded by cloud for an extended period.

On a routine JNB-LHR in 2019, we made a large crescent shaped swerve to avoid a massive storm doing its thing away to Starboard whilst in the ICTZ. I remembered the Viscount! Not least, being able to watch the avoiding line develop in real time as I lay on my flat bed! Wow, what a difference in two months short of 49 years.

[Out Of Here]

Almost identical to my experience as a new copilot on an ATR42 - LCY- LBA. Entered rain ice at circa FL120, saw blue sky as passing FL150 and thought we’d get out on top....except we were hoodwinked, Max torque, icing speeds etc yet we were decelerating in level flight - remember looking across at my tough Yorkshire Captain and thinking he was quiet and looked a lot paler than normal - that’s when I started getting a tad nervous given the ATR’s rep in icing. We promptly descended (I think under a pan call) and found air clear of icing at FL80, outside controlled airspace.
On landing at Leeds where the temp was about 8c, big lumps of ice were dropping off the tail plane onto the ramp, that really bought it home to me how quickly icing can catch you out in a turboprop.

Yep another one, first job in the right hand seat of a Shorts 330 or 360 over the channel with a 30,000hr+ retirement job Captain Flash Philips of BCal fame who had survived the VC10 upset incident over the Andes. Well it started about 8000’ and we drifted down with full power on to about 3000’ with noticeable light aerodynamic buffet throughout. Once we leveled Flash turned to me and said “ Well if the icing level was on the surface we would be dead now” This from the man who had done and in my opinion could do anything. ‘Wow’ the apprenticeship really had begun! Looking back on it quite how fare paying passengers were allowed on those things is quite shocking. However we survived and I look back on those days with very happy memories. It was a pleasure and privilege to have flown and learnt from gentlemen and superb airmen such as Flash and Rex.

[Krystal n chips]

A friend at the time in the 80's was thinking of buying a PA 32 and asked if I would like to accompany him for an engineering overview as it were. The aircraft was owned by two elderly gentlemen who may have had a benign AME / GP....... to put it politely . It was based on a farm strip in Lincolnshire with two others, both of which were under cover. This one wasn't, no blanks / covers and to judge from the rubbish on the wings had been outside "for some considerable time ". The corrosion / crazing was equally obvious.

Asked if I would like to go on the test flight, so in we get. Friend in RH seat, one of the owners driving and his friend sat behind him. The take-off set the tone, more a wiggle in hope rather than positive control action. Reached about 2000ft and the gentleman next to me asks his friend in front "Have you had your tablets today ? "...." no " says pilot and rummages in nav bag for said tablets....a short while later.....the engine begins to sound very unhealthy, I should add this was in February, OAT 3 / 4 degs, at best, on the ground...next question " have you got carb heat on ? "....slight pause, "click ", "I have now "......my friend carried out some basic handling, gentle stalls, and we landed soon thereafter.

Flying with those two, and then with no carb heat in those conditions, was more than a shade scary.

He declined to purchase the aircraft.

[occasional]

Out walking in Spain and came across some people hang-gliding. As I had already done some short courses I expressed an interest in having a go myself.

News of this travelled across the grapevine and an offer arrived to take me up in a powered hang-glider the following weekend.

So on Friday evening we travelled to remote rural Spain to meet the pilot and his three children, and after dinner, pulled the hang-glider from a cobweb-filled garage.

Saturday morning was clean the aircraft and in daylight it became apparent that the wing fabric had long splits where the wing colour changed. This did not appear to worry anybody but me, so the engine was started and rides for the children organised.

My turn arrived and, consoling myself that the splits only went fore-to-aft, I took my place. In fact I found that flying as a passenger in a hang-glider controlled by someone else was so unpleasant (as in seriously frightening) that I almost forgot about the wings.

Anyhow we landed sucessfully and after a few more childrens flights the pilot asked who was going to take the last flight of the day. Everybody pointed at me and I felt it too late to demur.

[redsetter]

Parachute club in Oxon. Stretch Cessna (dunno what model, first and only time it visited) had been doing static line lifts all day. Finally a free-fall lift. Everyone and their dog gets on board. I'm sitting on floor with back to pilot's seat. As usual everyone scrums forward to put CG forward - old lag skydiver practically lying on top of me gripping back of pilots seat. Off we go down the grass strip - but something's not quite right - we pass the bump in the strip where an aircraft normally becomes airborne still firmly attached to terra firma.Old lag on top of me looks distinctly worried. End of strip runs into an adjoining field - but small matter of large hedge, shipping container and landrover in close proximity. Pilot hauls back on stick and we stagger into air accompanied by stall klaxon. Clear hedge etc but not really climbing. Everyone remains firmly scrummed forward looking somewhat nervous. Oxfordshire still seems very close below. Finally, taking what seems like an age, we gradually edge up to 2,500ft. Most of the lift had asked for a higher exit but, curiously, everyone seemed anxious to get out as soon as possible.

[A340Yumyum]

Retired BA/BY,
lived about 200 yds from RAF Usworth (Hylton Castle Council Estate) and had my first flight there as an Air Cadet (2214 Sqn). It was in on 25 July 1956 in Anson VV 994. I used to go there whenever possible to help out clean/refuel the Chipmunks and the Ansons and Oxfords. Very happy days.
Gosh, that was a scary one.

[old,not bold]

Moments of abject terror during a flight, rather than a scary flight......

....As one of four embarked pongoes in a RAF Whirlwind, contour flying 30 feet above the canopy in forested country when the engine failed suddenly; US Marines exchange pilot heaved up the nose to do what was more or less a horizontal auto- rotate and as the speed dropped and as the nose came down he slid it into a small clearing for a soft landing.

.....As a passenger in a MEA Coronado realising that we had just touched down at Beirut far too hot even for a Coronado, and far too late, and were about to go off the end in about 10 seconds, still fast. (We did indeed, but no fire and almost no casualties.)

...In my Prentice, climbing up though cloud to get to VFR on top, over mountains in Italy on route Rome - Brindisi, when the damp air cause both mags to pretty much cut out. (A Prentice quirk, apparently, that I didn't know about.) The glide down after a 180 turn, with a stopped prop, not knowing whether I would come out of the cloud or hit the hill first, was a slightly prolonged and very scary moment, relieved by not only coming out of cloud safely, but finding a military runway in the valley, 800ft or so below the aircraft, which wasn't on my 1:500,000 map.

[flash8]

When I was 737 rated visited my then girlfriends father in Victoria (BC).

Turned out he had a Piper Arrow, and my girlfriend asked her dad if he could "take us up". Now, to be honest I have always have had a fear of SEP.... irrational I know but I was sure glad to leave the SEP world after training... so I was initially reluctant but was too polite to refuse.

So up we went, takeoff normal, until he decided during the trip to show off with "aerobatics" (perhaps he thought he was impressing me, but believe me that is the last thing I wanted).

We came so close to stalling on a number of occasions (and at low altitude) and I was not at all confident he could recover, grinning like a maniac throwing the airplane about... I was almost praying for terra firma.

By the time we reached the ground I was a blubbering wreck.... he was still grinning like a bloody maniac.

Think the old boy actually enjoyed scaring the sh*t out of me.

Girlfriend (obviously unaware how close she was to oblivion) stating "Isn't my dad so cool".

[ShyTorque]

Icing! My first night flying sortie in the Jet Provost Mk3A was on Feb 6th, 1978, in XN494. My QFI was Flt Lt Nigel Storah.

Nigel was a "creamie" QFI. He still held a "white" rating which meant he had to add 200' to DH on a PAR approach. He and I were programmed to carry out night circuits at our base, RAF Linton-On-Ouse. Unfortunately, the cloudbase was below limits. We delayed about an hour in the hope that the weather might improve. It didn't.

Instead we re-briefed to fly to RAF Waddington, where the weather was better. We were to transit IFR and IMC via Linton Radar, Finningley Radar and Waddington Radar. We were to carry out a PAR approach at Waddington and after breaking cloud continue into the visual circuit for the sortie proper, then return to base.

We departed into low overcast in moderate rain and a blustery wind. All went as planned until we flew the PAR at Waddington. We didn't break cloud at all, at DH plus the 200'. No chance of visual circuits. We went around, then flew a second PAR. We still saw nothing so went around again; our only option now was to RTB. We expected a radar handover to Finningley but were told to "free call" as Waddington Radar was going off the air. We called Finningley but got no reply. We climbed through cloud to above safety altitude and continued northbound. Nigel told me to fly the planned heading but to continue the climb. As I did so, I began to have difficulty maintaining airspeed. I mentally told myself to get a grip and kept opening the throttle. It made little difference. Nigel, who had been concentrating on the R/T, suddenly looked across and reminded me to maintain IAS. I pushed the throttle even further forward but there was no more travel and I felt the lever "clunk" at the forward end of its quadrant. I looked at the engine RPM gauge. It read 90% - that's all we had. Probably about half normal thrust. I said "I think there's something wrong with the engine". He took control. As I sat back, we briefly came out of cloud, between layers and the partial moon illuminated the wing. The leading edge was thick with white ice and the tip tank, instead of being smooth and rounded, looked like a huge cauliflower. Suddenly it all made sense - we had an engine icing problem as well as severe airframe icing. The aircraft was now waffling along at about 130 kts - it should have done closer to 300. We no longer knew the stalling speed because the wing profile was no longer normal, but we knew it was considerably higher than with a clean wing.

The next few minute were rather fraught and surreal. Nigel put out a PAN call on 243.0 and we were transferred to Linton Radar. We were to be vectored for a straight in PAR but we still had a long way to fly. I was instructed to get out my FRCs and to read the pre-ejection checklist. We both carried out our individual vital actions, seat pins, harnesses, leg restraints etc. I suddenly became very much aware that it was a filthy wet and cold night outside, with a strong wind blowing. The thought of a parachute landing wasn't a good one, especially in the dark. Although we carried out parachute drills by day, from a training rig, I had never parachuted for real. Nigel briefed me that he would fly the aircraft back. If the engine failed, or we hit stall buffet, he would call "EJECT, EJECT!" and I was to leave the aircraft first, he would follow.

Thankfully, as we descended, the engine rpm picked up. The PAR went well enough, although I can't remember much about that. We landed, taxied in and shut down. What I'll never forget is that after we climbed out, thick slabs of slush slid off the full length of both wings onto the dispersal. The significance of this didn't really hit me till some time later. We had been very lucky.

I never flew with Nigel again. He was later posted to Harriers at Gutersloh, while I went rotary wing. Two years later, I was posted to Gutersloh, too. I looked forward to meeting him again. However, it was not to be. On 14th October 1980, as I arrived at the station in my car, having just driven direct from UK, there was an ominous pall of black smoke over the airfield. It was Nigel. His Harrier had suffered a catastrophic mechanical control failure as he came to a hover. He had ejected but by then his aircraft had rolled past 90 degrees at very low level and unfortunately he didn't survive. The mark his ejection seat made in the grass alongside the runway was visible for some time afterwards and it was a stark reminder and a sobering start to my Germany tour.

RIP Flt Lt Nigel Storah.

[DaveReidUK]

My first night flying sortie in the Jet Provost Mk3A was on Feb 6th, 1978, in XW494.

I hope not, as that serial belongs to a drone - lucky you didn't get shot down. :O

Your bird, probably:


https://cimg3.ibsrv.net/gimg/pprune.org-vbulletin/599x400/xn494_eded0d0b781229af2f83928199856e2dcfe89844.jpg

[ShyTorque]

Yes, my mistake. XN494 it was. Just checked my logbook again.

In my defence, there was someone at the door, coupled with a phone call from elsewhere, advising me of a family crisis while I was typing. A family member has been possibly exposed to Covid....bang goes our Christmas Day plan. Anyone like a half defrosted turkey?

[c52]

Pan Am 737 from Berlin to Frankfurt at night; I was guessing where we were by how I perceived the aircraft's turns, and when I thought we were on finals for a westerly landing, we made a very steeply-banked turn to the right and shortly afterwards, made an easterly landing.

[Pom Pax]

Immediately after lift off Pilot exclaims "^^^^" (or perhaps more stars).
I innocently inquire as to whats wrong.
"I've only got 2 Greens"
Fortunately a couple of recycles found the missing Green.

[Imagegear]

Practice EFTO, on an Arrow conversion, distracted on purpose by the Instructor who chopped the throttle while we were still too low. Starts to ask "Where are you going now" changed into "I have control", firewalled the throttle, went between a farm house and a large barn then slowly climbed away..

Britannia at Bardufoss, heavy braking on the takeoff roll. FE pops out of the cockpit, lifts a floor panel and starts whacking something metal with a large wrench. Taxi back around and FE, sitting with legs in the hole, shouts through cockpit door - "Try it again". :eek:

Seen through the cockpit door on Air India, lights going on and off - told it is routine practice to look ahead at the cloud buildups during the Monsoon - had it on the descent into Delhi, seems to make sense.

Coming out of Joburg, lightning strike, very large bang followed by heir apparent shouting "Dad - the wing has a glowing red spot on it" Cue surrounding pax gasping.

IG

[DownWest]

I wasn't scared at the time, but should have been...
Finished a check four on an Apache and needed to get the de-icing cylinder charged, as we didn't have hi-pressure air (2.500psi ?) So our chief pilot flew it to Norwich with me in the right seat to keep an eye on things after the check.
Sorted the air charging and taxied out to return. You have a go, he says. While I had flown P2 in a few of the singles we worked on, no PPL and no experience in a twin, other than holding the Twin Coms straight and level or gentle turns.
Nothing loth, off we go, weather was the pits, low cloud and showers, so after take off, cleaned her up and set off down the A47 at around 1000ft. Doing OK, I think, when one engine starts losing power.. He looked disinterested, so I knew that he was giving me some test. Corrected the boot of rudder with trim and full power on the remaining donk and prepared to feather the failing one, when it cheered up.Straightened it all up and carried on. I had been scanning the panel and couldn't figure what he had done. Bit later, same happened, but I had caught his right arm moving. So while I was doing the correction, I asked him politely if he would not mess with the fuel cocks..... Big grin.
With some prompts I had her on finals, when she started rolling to the left, I applied correction, but nothing. He said, 'I have control' and slammed the throttles forward and the nose down, resulting in a big bounce and actual landing much further down the runway. We were near 45° roll before he sorted it.
Figured there must have been a big gust, as he was quite surprised at what happened, as was the airfield manager, who saw it all.
Like I said, interesting experience... but what on earth was he doing, giving simulated engine failures on an underpowered twin at 1000ft with an untrained person at the controls?
This was in '72?

[Teddy Robinson]

There have been a few over the past 45years (yike) which I thought might be good contenders for this thread a pretty long list in fact, then I ran some filters and there was a clear winner.
It wasn't the Pa38 spinning incident, or the teardrop reversal at Accra with tornados ripping up the far side of the airfield, it was something rather more subtle and insidious, and as usual it started of with a clear summers day, with a great days flying planned.

At the time I was flying as a "pilots assistant" on a B200 Super Kingair, my instructor was flying as captain for this flight to deliver a well heeled couple to the Isles of Scilly for a romantic lunch.
Champagne and goodies loaded, we departed in gin clear skies to Lands End airfield.

The B200 was not suitable for the destination, and the company had arranged a local pilot to do the transfer: we duly arrived, shut down, and moments later were joined by a charachter dressed as a captain, complete with Popeye sailors hat, working togs, and wellies.

He was a skipper in every sense of the word, he'd come straight from his trawler jus down in the bay for the trip to St. Mary's in his well worn and very homely B23 Musketeer, but oh, he said ... there was a problem, a weather problem.

"I'm so sorry", he told our passengers in a broad Cornish accent, "there is a front due in that will close the islands, and we won't be able to get back out again".

After a brief conference our lovebirds departed for St Ives, and we retreated to the airport Cafe for coffee and small talk with our island specialist, who departed a short while later.
WIth time on our hands, the King-Air was restocked, refuelled and we sat down to wait out the 4 hours until our clients return, then decided to go and check out some of the hangers.

Strolling across the sunlit grass, we became aware of the Skipper ambling towards us, "there's a break in the weather, you boys want to go to the islands ?"
I wasn't really included in the conversation, but surely the answer was no !

Moments later we were flying out over the cliffs of Lands end towards St. Marys.
Never before, or since, have I seen a runway threshold that appears to fill your windsreen in level light at 1000 feet !

The Skipper's intel seemed correct:

Beautiful CAVOK, warm sunshine, indeed a beautiful day, and once safely down we took a tour by foot to grab a cornish pasty (as you do), and tour the fascinating historic graveyard.
I have always had a real time sense for weather, today it was just the slightest breeze touching my cheek that made me look up.

Stratus.

Lets go .. we made out way back to the aircraft to find our skipper looking decidedly nervous, all he said was "lets go" and go we did .. no checks, we were airborne and turning for Lands End at low level.

Even at this early stage of my flying career, I had already lost friends and acquaintances in weather related accidents, so, sat in the back of the Musketeer was rather like reading an accident report as events began to unfold.

We had turned on track from perhaps 100 feet after takeoff, and were now running in and out of the cloud base at 500 feet, as we approached the Lizard peninsula. the cloud base was lowering rapidly. we were now down at 300 feet to keep sight of the wave tops and it was getting darker by the moment.

200 feet now ...... and POP !! out into bright sunshine.

I had been mostly head down during this part of the flight as we were clearly getting down to an altitude where the cliffs near the airfield could become a factor.

Head down is probably the wrong term ... I was trying to wriggle into a position that might protect me should we impact terrain
As I felt the sunshine, I opened my eyes, and popped my head up for a quick look around.

There ahead of us was the Lizard peninsula, covered rather beautifully in orographic fog that began half way up the cliff face stretching as far inland as the eye could see, all lit with bright sunshine.

Now what ?

Now might me an appropriate moment to decribe the Skipper: I can do so in a few words.
Think Long John Silver, without the Parrot and the wooden leg and you are pretty much there and that includes the accent !
He is a creature of his environment, not ours, and more to the point, without a headset I am watching events unfold without a commentary.

We are closing on the cliffs, out pops a stage of flap, I sneak a look over his left shoulder and see 75kts, and we start a right turn down the beach, now at clifftop height ... as we roll wings level the view is strangely tantalising ...

I look to where the clifftop should be, solid fog, but as I look down on the beach, there are couples sunbathing and children playing in the sea, and here we are making like an aluminium seagull, beating a figure of 8 track, turning away from the cliff to the right, then a closing track on the return to turn left ... and repeat ... and repeat and repeat, this was becoming quite bizarre.

So far I could follow the logic: we will fly this for a while and then divert .... surely ?

At the end of one of the left turns out to sea, there's an exclamation,(ARRRR !) and the turn tightens ... then there is dense fog ... I see a stone wall flash past, then a sheep.

I'm back in my "brace for impact" position with my head held tight against my knees, my right eye watching things, and my life, flashing past the opposite passenger window.

Another stone wall, a tree, all just gloomy shadows in the fog, a telephone pole...... I brace for impact ... yes there's the first one .... a glancing blow, and now we are sliding, curving to the right.... In my minds eye I see the next stone wall looming out of the fog and close my eyes, power goes on for an instant, then off, still sliding to the right ....

But I'm also picking up the rumble of the landing gear on a bumpy grass surface, and dare another look .. a monocrome windsock passes my field of view, and slowly, ever-so-slowly we rumble to a halt.

I finally exhale.

Now we are taxying. I unbrace and look around ... still nothing, but grass and fog, then a light, then a hanger, then the airfield cafe,

WTF !!

Happy Christmas

TR

[Pugilistic Animus]

I have nothing to tell here, thank God

[Teddy Robinson]

I have nothing to tell here

Nothing to tell, or nothing to learn ?

[Fris B. Fairing]

While in retrospect it should have been my scariest flight, I was young and silly at the time so I loved every minute of it. A youth group to which I belonged organised a joy flight in a Dragon Rapide. We all turned up at the appointed departure time bright-eyed and bushy-tailed only to find that while the aeroplane was there, it had no seats in the cabin! Its recent flights had been for parachuting and consequently the seats had been removed and stored in the corner of a hangar. With impeccable planning, the preflight preparations involved literally dusting off the seats and fitting them in the cabin. I was last to board and drew the last seat next to the door. When I went to fasten my seatbelt I discovered that there was a discrepancy in the seat belt department to the tune of one. Not to worry, the pilot produced a length of webbing and proceeded to tie it around my middle with a big bow at the front. There was no briefing on the quick release function of said bow. With all pax safely secured, the cabin door was closed with the customary tug on the handle to verify that the door was latched. It was at this point that the door handle separated from the door. Presumably MELs were consulted and the flight duly departed and returned uneventfully to the aerodrome of departure.

Not long after this flight it emerged that the fuselage fabric was in need of attention. Sections were removed only to reveal the condition of the woodwork. Her flying days were over. In those unenlightened times it was decided that the aeroplane would be burned. On the appointed day of execution the aeroplane was towed tail first to the fire dump whereupon the tail section and rear fuselage separated from the rest of the aircraft. How close had we come to an in-flight breakup?

[X767]

54 Squadron in the mid '60s. Recently posted from Chivenor, was doing rather well at weapons during a concentrated phase from West Raynham.
Found I was top of the Air to Ground ladder and was tasked on to Cowden range. Excellent results and a happy F/O was flying back at low level over the sea back to base.
In those days, pirate radio was alive and well in the SE of England, so it just so happened if you tuned into Radio London you got an instant steer from your radio compass back to base and gave you the latest pop music to accompany your recovery.
The Hunter radio compass control was on the rear right bulkhead, and as I turned the lever to the correct frequency, I looked up to see the ocean at eye level.
A frantic pull, to nearly overstress the aircraft resulted, and a much chastened, overconfident young pilot returned to base with a QGH/GCA that required maximum concentration as I realised that I had nearly been killed.
There used to be a page in the RAF Flight Safety Magazine that headed " I learnt a lot about flying from that" and on that day I did !!

[Pugilistic Animus]

Nothing to tell, or nothing to learn ?
Plenty of things to learn, actually, that's why I'm on PPRuNe. I've just been lucky... there but for the grace of God do I go, as the saying goes. :)

​​​​​Edit: The sky has been quite kind to me, so far. On the other hand the ground has been terrible to me!

[Fonsini]

I’ll share one of someone else’s stories - Bee Beamont no less, may he Rest In Peace.

In his later years Bee was employed by BAC as a flight ops director when they received a complaint from a customer regarding faulty “fire control systems” on some new Strikemasters (edit - can anyone enlighten me as to what exactly a Strikemaster FCS consists of apart from an optical gunsight ?). Bee flew out in person and went on a training mission with the foreign customer’s chief instructor who he said was a rather abrasive character. The flight out to the range was carried out at ultra low level across open desert, and the altitude could have been measured with a yardstick, the Strikemaster was also running at full chat. Bee stated that the pilot had to lift alternate wings to avoid hitting the sand dunes which they were clearing by 2 or 3 feet at most, he went on to say that in spite of having been shot at in combat this single flight was the only time in his entire flying career that he was ever genuinely terrified.

[treadigraph]

I think the only time I've been particularly worried in an aircraft was on a short flight between Waukegan and Palwaukee in Illinois - lightning strikes to the side of us, lightning strikes to the front of us, think I would have preferred a) not to have launched or b) returned to Waukegan, just behind us, and made inroads into their coffee pot. My aerial chauffeur was keen to press on however and we made it safely - of course - and tied the C172 down with the help of the line boy just before the storm front hit. Palwaukee's coffee was just as good as Waukegan's and we watched the rain lashing down, wind tormenting the trees and numerous lightning strikes for an hour or so before it all cleared for a beautifully sunny smooth flight down the Chicago lake shore - we should have landed at Meigs while it was still there!

[alf5071h]

PA, … nothing to tell … - the last flight, because if the next one gets you, you cannot retell.

TR, … nothing to learn … - again the last flight, because without learning the next one is more likely to get you.

Lots of war stories above, but few lessons learnt.

[Landflap]

Scariest ever ? Mine was my first. saved up for ages, off to Shoreham , told them I wanted to be a pilot, age -17. . Wonderful chap called Toon Ghose strapped me in to a Bolkow Junior and off we went on what he called an "aptitude and experience flight". Watched him pump the rudder pedal from full left to full right and yet we remained straight. Off the grass field & headed off to Brighton Pier (just like the snowman cartoon) but on the way back, he asked "howz your tummy-?". I managed a big smile, loving all of it & he said"Ok, i'll show you a loop"........ ......Aaaaaaaagh !......... Awful. He adopted a wierd sort of grin and said.."Good, I'll show you a spin"...........Aaaaaaaaaagh.......Awful. Staggered off home on the South coast bus and resolved to ammend my application to the RAF for Navigator preference. Failed the Nav aptitude battery but was offered entry for pilot. Aaaaaaagh, probably have to do aeros ! Settled for Hamble instead.

[okipoki]

I was off loading pax bags from the belly pod of Cessna Caravan in Medan, Indonesia after bringing the members of NGO and Red Cross/ Red Crescent from Banda Ache. Bell 412 chartered by Singapore Red Cross was taxiing right behind of us over the grass field for departure, not over the taxiway. Maybe it was not unusual procedure in Medan shortly after the Boxing Day Tsunami. Anyhow, as I continued to help to get their bags, I saw the twin turbine engine helicopter slowing nearing to the ground in my peripheral vision and the clouds of dust quickly started thickening and covering the area, the shape of B412 was almost blurred. It came to me so suddenly that I didn't even have time to get scared but the image of sharp edged pieces of the broken chopper blades shooting toward us in next second became so clear in my mind and at the same time, I remember thinking to myself it would be so sad to see those young people, who came from many countries all the way to Indonesia to help the tsunami stricken villages and its people, dying for no particular reason. It is true an event like this looks like slow motion scene from a movie. I watched the 4 blades still rotating after the chopper rested in the ditch in crooked way, leaving its tip only few inches above the ground. The crew of downed helicopter staggered out of the cockpit while the air was still filled with grass and dust. Some of my passengers shifted their interest from their bags and started taking photos. Didn't seem to realize their lives were spared...

[Peter47]

Turbulence is always disconcerting if fortunately rare. It was particularly bad coming into Heathrow one day as the Skip was rapidly on the p.a. "As you will see we've been through some turbulence, nothing too serious". Reassured this SLF.

Not really scary but I remember missing an approach at Kai Tak. The crew were too far busy for a p.a. announcement (believe me it makes a difference) & we landed successfully in the opposite direction a few minutes layer but I had visions of ending up in Kaohsiung.

Also its off putting seeing a plane pass nearby at the same level. Actually we wern't, Both were in the stack at different levels and banking, almost you could say an optical illusion, but I wasn't thinking that at the time.

[wub]

My scariest was on a BA 747 from Hong Kong to London. We were warned in the preflight announcement that we might experience some turbulence after take-off. About 45 minutes into the flight, during drinks service, the aircraft started to shake a little. A couple of minutes later I was confronted with the contents of my gin and tonic glass floating in front of my face, before it rapidly descended into my lap. The turbulence became quite violent and the drinks service suspended with the crew taking their seats. At this point, looking at the moving map, we were taking a northerly heading, almost following the eastern coast of China. As an experienced passenger I wasn't alarmed, just uncomfortable. The captain announced that we were climbing as high as we could and reported that a Virgin Atlantic 747 was a couple of thousand feet below and getting the worst of it. The shaking was incredible, accompanied by severe drops and rises. The thing I was most scared about was the constant screaming from fellow passengers. Every movement induced a cacophony of shrieking from everyone around me. It lasted for about six hours. On arrival at Heathrow, exhausted and without having been served dinner, I overheard a cabin crew member telling a passenger it had been routine and he had had many flights like that. On arrival at the gate the captain apologised for the turbulence and said that in his 31 years as a pilot, he had never experienced anything so violent.

[Zeus]

Out over the Atlantic paralleling the Eastern Seaboard of the US at night in clear conditions with only a light wind from the West we were surprised to hear the aircraft a few minutes in front of us declare that they were experiencing "extreme turbulence". 2000ft below we were in smooth air. I have to confess that I looked across at the new FO and muttered the ICAO terms "light, moderate and severe" under my breath whilst gently "tutting".

Seconds later we hit the worst turbulence that I have experienced in 41 years of flying. The aircraft was shaking so violently that it was almost impossible to read the instruments. The airspeed fluctuated wildly and the overspeed clackers were immediately followed by the stall warning stick shaker. The autopilot's altitude hold mode failed to maintain height and we got altitude warnings of plus or minus 300 feet. The EICAS (warning) screen filled with red and amber warnings which appeared and disappeared rapidly. I began to wonder about the structure of the aircraft. Just how much punishment could the tail empennage take?
I called New York and confirmed the other aircraft's "extreme" report. This was worse than severe. I recommended they reroute any aircraft planning on passing through the area. At the same time I sent an ACARS message to operations suggesting a later flight took another route. I also requested that the engineers carry out a turbulence check on the aircraft on arrival. Ops came back a few minutes later and said New York had closed the airspace.

On arrival back at base we were met by an engineer. He sat on the jumpseat and went through the reports in the CMC (central maintenance computer). Shortly after that he picked up his handset and called his supervisor saying "nothing generated in the CMC, I am coming back to the crewroom". On his way out he stopped in the galley and chatting to the galley girl asked if there were any left over bacon butties . "Fill your boots" was her response "take whatever you want. That was my last flight!" She then told him that the turbulence had terrified her and that she was never going to fly again. "Err boss, I think we are going to need a turbulence check on this aircraft...".

[Passenger 61]

January 2020 I’m in the back of an unarmed Chinook flying from Hamid Kharzi Military Airport (just at the back of the civilian one) In Kabul, Afghanistan to somewhere I won’t name. I was wearing body armour, Kevlar hat and was strapped in next to a window. The flight was crewed by grizzled, battle hardened, ex US Air Force guys who knew what they were doing, the Chinook didn’t have a tail gate, just a load net, the wheels were kept down in flight and the change overs were done with the rotors running. I was in with a bunch of ‘interesting’ people, many toting some serious firepower. The flight wasn’t that long but going over Kabul at 250ft really focusses the mind. The trip back involved a stop at another base to drop off a dozen or so SF guys en route to Hamid Kharzi. I have some great photo’s of me in the back of the Chinook. Won’t forget that ride in a hurry!

[Doors To Manuel]

It's all true. (written some time ago)I want to tell you now about a time I did have a bad experience. Potentially a very bad experience. But the truth is that without the use of alcohol or strong drugs, it was so well handled that I did not really care. Here’s how it happened.


It was a beautiful sunny day and I was lucky enough to be heading on a business trip to New York on Concorde, that most amazing of all flying machines. It was not my first trip on the bird but I was still excited. It was a beautiful sunny day as we took off towards the west. The only way I can describe take-off is that it was a bit like hurtling up stairs in a rocket. Concorde was not quiet, it was not particularly luxurious, but boy was it fast. I had already done an hour in our Heathrow office that morning, we took off at 10:30 and by 10:00 I was expecting to be in the New York office. Bizarre!


We were only a few minutes into the flight when our captain’s voice came over the intercom. After the usual pleasantries he told us in that way that only the British can that there was a spot of bother. I forget the exact technical details but I think it was something to do with the rudder. Most of the passengers, myself included, probably did not even realise that Concorde had such a thing. Anyway, nothing to worry about we were reassured, and here was what was going to happen. “I am sorry for the inconvenience but I am afraid we will have to return to Heathrow.” came the soothing tones. “That won’t take long, and I have already radioed ahead so a replacement Concorde will be waiting for you as soon as we land.”

A different planet from ‘rail replacement buses!’ British Airways had seven Concordes, so luckily they always had a spare one hanging around somewhere, as you do.



“So the only tiny problem,” continued the voice of God (or so it seemed), “is that as we have only just taken off we have too much fuel onboard and the plane is too heavy to land.” Too heavy to land? Oh no, I thought, is this going to be the old joke about the Englishman the Irishman and the Scotsman arguing about who is going to be thrown off first? Luckily not. “What I am going to do is go out of the Bristol channel, dump most of the fuel, turn around and then fly back to Heathrow.”



Dump most of the fuel? Oh no! How much was ‘most’? I hoped he had a little gauge like I did on my car with a read out of ‘miles remaining’. What if he threw away too much? Would we have to crash land in Swindon? How many miles was it anyway from Bristol to London? A hundred? I seemed to remember reading somewhere that Concorde averaged 5 gpm. Yes, 5 gallons per mile…so that was an awful of petrol he had better not dump on the poor fish in the Channel.



The flight back to Heathrow was magical, among the most memorable I have ever taken. The previous day we had actually been visiting friends in Bath so as we returned to London following the line of the M4 motorway flying at about only 10,000 feet I could re-trace the journey I had taken only yesterday. But this time it was like what I imagine it would be like to travel in a rocket-propelled hot air balloon. Oh look down there, that’s the service station we didn’t stop at! Is that a cow? Are we nearly there yet? Yes, as soon as we turned around we were nearly there, you stupid boy! You are never not ‘nearly there’ on Concorde.



And so, only 10 minutes later, to the skies above Windsor. “Now,” said our captain, “you may not know it, but these poor chaps at Heathrow don’t get much chance to practice the old emergency drill stuff. So what I have agreed with them is that they can use our landing this morning for a jolly good practice. So when we land, don’t be alarmed, but what you are going to see is these boys and girls racing alongside us in their fire engines and ambulances to see if they still remember the training. OK, now down we go.” He didn’t quite let out a ‘wheeeeeee!’ but he might have done.


Relaxed? You bet we were. 99 people all smiling, even although they had just given back their empty champagne glasses. And sure enough as we hit the tarmac with a bit of a bump mind you, it was like the Fisher Price airport out there with all the yellow and red vehicles trundling in parallel trying to keep up with us.



We came to a stop, not at the terminal, but somewhere in the outer reaches of the airfield. Why? Did they really think the plane might explode? (Actually, yes, but the trick is no one bothered to tell us that bit.) So we promptly deplaned and were escorted onto a bus. That was the funniest part. 99 people, 98 of whom had paid thousands of pound to rocket off to New York – I was on an airline ‘duty travel’ fare - and here they were boarding a bus! Not something to shout about back on the cocktail circuit in St George’s Hill.



And so that, dear reader, was my most frightening emergency landing. Thanks to the way it was handled I have not been so scared since the time I dropped a pillow on my foot.



The next day when I was already back in London I saw the newspaper front page headline shrieking “M25 closed as Concorde makes emergency landing!”. Too late to be frightened now.

[ve3id]

I had made a habit of frequently driving out to the airfield with pax in the car, and putting them in the back of a 172 for an air tour of downtown Toronto, usually with a couple of orbits of the CN Tower to watch the people eating in the revolving restaurant. This time was supposed to be the same. The flight was usually less than an hour, so no problem was expected getting back before my lack of the five take-offs and landings at night would have made carrying pax illegal. That is, until I looked at the TAF, which said told OCNL SCTD TRS for my time aloft. which was to be just before civil twilight.

My reaction was a proper one, just as I had been taught. Never fly beyond your capabilities and experience. So from the home where my pax were staying, I told the man waiting for me that we were not going due WX. However, as a meteorologist from Copenhagen Airport, he wanted to speak to the local met man, so we called them. After exchanging pleasantries and comments in the lingua franca of those who observe the clouds, we hung up and I spoke directly to my friend.

Surprisingly, he gave me his professional opinion that it would be safe to fly!

Who was I to argue? So I took him and a couple of lasses out to the airport.

The out-bound trip was a complete success. We circled the CN Tower twice and headed back towards Toronto International's airspace. I called their terminal controller from South of Humber Bay, only to be told that my destination was just now under TRS.

"What are your intentions?" he asked.

Obviously the best choice was to turn back to Toronto Island, which I had just passed.
"Toronto Island is now reporting TRS coming in off the lake!"
I looked at the alternatives. While I was considering Burlington Air park, the controller came back to me.

"It looks like there are two cells, ten miles apart, one each side of the route to Brampton. I can get you between them if you like."
I had originally requested to fly up runway 33 at 2k, since they were landing East-west, but they had denied me that route, and vectored me way out way West of Pearson, beneath the departure profile. That was when I started to follow vectors to go between the two T cells.

Just as I was thinking of being home in a few minutes, I experienced what i now understand what people mean by 'all hell breaking loose'. The plane started to climb, and I had to push the nose down to keep at altitude. Then the plane started shaking so badly that I felt it would break apart. I knew I had to do a 180, but in a control zone? I rolled the plane left to a rate 1 turn and tried to tell ATC what I was doing. But the plane was shaking so badly that I could not get the air into my lungs to speak, and my words seemed to sound like a bunch of incoherent broken syllables.

The controller acknowledged my turn, and gave me vectors BACK OUT OVER THE LAKE! Great! I thought, they know I am going to break up and don't want me falling on the expensive houses below!

You know that you are in trouble when an older, more experienced voice comes over the R/T from ATC!

He asked me my situation, and how much fuel I had, and I explained about the turbulence. He gave me more vectors to circle South of land while they figured out a solution.

Eventually he told me the TRS over Brampton had dissipated, and vectored me to the button of 33 at Pearson, with instructions to fly up it. After that, it was vectors to Brampton and the smoothest straight-in airline landing I have ever done, since the airport was closed, the runway wet and beautifully highlighted by the reflection of (thankfully distant) clouds.

My passenger said I was a damn good pilot, and that I should be flying the big jets. That was when it dawned on me, his judgement to fly was based on transport aircraft criteria - way too much for a little 172! I never listened to anybody else's judgement whether it was safe to fly after that!

[kiwi grey]

Flying from Wellington (NZ) to Nelson in a Bandit, I have seat 1B. The curtain between me and the cockpit is open.
There is a brisk - by Wellington standards, most others would call it a gale - south-easterly blowing.
After a routine but short take off roll, we go along nicely until we come out of the lee of Moa Point. The aircraft does roller-coaster imitations, to the extent that there are some small screams from the back rows. I guess the motion may have been more vigorous there. I thought it was a bit sporty, but it's 'Windy Wellington' after all.

A minute or two later, P1 says to P2 "****, I thought we were a goner there", presumably not realising I could hear him quite clearly.
I had a death grip on the armrest all the way to Nelson

[occasional]

Alternatively.
DC-10 from Malaga to UK. The cabin crew at the rear of the plane announce that they are having trouble closing the door.

[dixi188]

Business class LHR to CPH on SAS MD-80.
Very camp steward serving lunch. After food I ordered a brandy which was served just as we hit some turbulence and it ended up in my lap. Camp steward wanted to mop my nether regions.
Now that's scary!

[RetiredBA/BY]

Gosh, that was a scary one.
Well, I could tell you sbout the time I took a 737 to about 80 degrees of bank making an emergency break at FL 330 to avoid a RAM B 727 which had been cleared through my level on another frequency on the French/Spanish border.

Just passing the VOR. I looked up from moving the heading cursor to change course, to see this 727 coming straight at me. Scary, you bet, and that was before TCAS ! Too. B.........close., the few seconds waiting for the bang were interminable !

[Mr Mac]

As a long term passenger, I can re call two, though on the first I was very young, and only remember bits, but my parents filled in the other bits I had forgotten. The second I was older, and travelling with my Dad returning to Europe from Chile via Disney Land as a treat, rather than my normal route with BCAL via BA, Rio, etc to school in the UK.

The first incident was in the early 60,s flying from Rome back to UK and involved an evening take off in a prop which I think would have been a Vanguard, the airline was BEA, and I think Flight BE193 from Malta to London via Rome on a Sat. I can not remember and both my parents are dead, but did some checking on old time tables today (in Tier 3 and its pouring down !) and I think this would be it, as we arrived back at LHR in the early hours. There was a large Thunderstorm to the West of Rome moving East and my father thought the flight maybe delayed as a result. However we were boarded, and engines started and we taxied out, but noted that a Swiss and Air France flights had returned to the gate, however we continued, and lined up for take off. We waited for some time, and then set off. I had a window seat, and commented to my father about the "pretty sparks" coming off the wing (St Elmo's fire) which gradually covered the whole wing as we climbed, as the plane bucketed and reared through the sky, with a number of screams, and the smell of vomit coming around the cabin, and visibly onto peoples clothes. It appeared to last for at least an hour, before some sort of smoothness returned, and engine had been feathered. On the flight my mother helped some of the passengers and crew with some injuries sustained, as she was a nurse, and even helped subsequently hand out medicinal Brandy, and light food for those who felt like it. During all this there was no word from the flight deck, until about 2hrs into the flight when the captain came on, who my father thought was called Biggleswade . He apologized for the "lively departure" but then went to say it "was not as bad as flying over Berlin in the winter 43/44 " and that was it ! That was the last we heard from him until we landed. My mother subsequently received a Postal Order and letter for £5 from the airline for her help, and service post looking after people.

The second incident involved CAT over the US in an Air France 707 which left numerous people injured, and a trashed interior, with flying CC and food carts and passengers, which lasted for about 5 min, but was a bit like flying in the NASA Vomit Comet at the time. The pilot declined to divert, and continued to Paris, where we were met by numerous ambulances, as there had been considerable broken bones. I always keep my seat belt on ever since, (though the 380 Bar on EK does negate that :E) and have stayed away from Air France ever since as a result.

The interesting point, is that I have flown many thousands probably millions of miles since, in many 3rd world countries, with less well known carriers, as well as lots of LH flying, and yet these are the two incidents which caused me most concern, though my father said that in the first I was quite excited with the lightening and sudden drops, but probably too young to appreciate the danger. The second I could appreciate the danger, and see what was happening (as I was about 9 years old) but had a faith in the A/C (707) as that had become my chariot on the BCAL route from Santiago back and forth to school in UK, and I just could not believe it could crash. This flew in the face of the statistics of the time, as numerous ones were doing exactly that, including a large number of Air France ones !. But the real point is how safe flying actually is now by comparison with those times, when relatively few people flew, but the accident rate was quite high. I know my Mum was always concerned (she told me later) when packing me back off to school, as I was an only child, (my older brother had died just after being born), but she never showed it at the airport.

Happy landings to all in the coming year
Cheers
Mr Mac

[fitliker]

The first rule of Fright club ?

[jimtx]

This wasn't scary for the crew in a 727 departing STX at night with rainshowers in the area. I was the FE. Climbing thru 2 or 3 thousand with nothing on the analogue radar showing a need to deviate we get a ding from the FAs and Captain tells me to check with them. FA tells me "what was that?" I ask what she means as we have no indications or sounds up front. She says that a bolt of lightning hit one wingtip, came in through a window and flashed up and down the aisle, went out the other side window and hit the other wingtip. I open the cockpit door to a dark cabin with only white eyeballs visible like you might see in a cartoon. They check and nobody injured, no damage in cabin and we have no indications up front and press on. Post flight we find both wingtip tail lights melted.

[lightonthewater]

Some 20 years ago, as SLF, I landed in Copenhagen with a colleague , to transfer by road for a single engine light plane flight to an airfield in West Denmark. Car journey was in torrential rain, and at the domestic airport were greet by the light aircraft pilot to say that we would be delayed for several hours.

We retired to the bar, but some 30 mins later he re-appeared to say that he thought that the front would soon pass over, and we could get going. Being trusting types, we walked out to the aircraft leaning against the wind and rain, then took off with hail hitting the windscreen, straight into cloud.

It was very bumpy indeed at 3000 feet, going up and down as if in an elevator, but the pilot seemed calm and confident, He then began a conversation with ATC, and requesting permission to descend.. At that moment a tree top passed the left wingtip. It seems that he may have had to ask for retrospective permission, and we were lucky that Denmark is not a very hilly country. The pilot then dodged trees at the base of the cloud for some time, until, as forecast, we passed through the front into crystal clear still air. We were VERY glad to land.

[RVF750]

I've managed to avoid anything scary, except at the start. My CPL practice qualifying cross country, EGHR to EGTE to EGBO and back. Made it as far as checking in with Solent for a transit of EGHI zone. Got a deconfliction service from them and was settling into the leg and a pair of wings appeared either side of the centre screen bar. (PA28). Froze for a second then fortunately pushed down to go under a Navajo who had flown right through the zone without speaking to them! Seriously just a little overcome with adrenaline overload for the next few minutes. He'd just jumped up on their radar and controller was quite apologetic.

I learned a valuable lesson that day about keeping an eye out the front window! It's always the buggers that will hit you are the ones that don't move in your vision too. I bet he had no idea how close we came either. No ident from him and no Mode C either so chances of a result through filing were minimal.

Never come anywhere near that close to dying since. And I ride a motorcycle.....

[FullWings]

My first solo.

Trained at a very busy airfield with sometimes well over 10 jets, helicopters, twins and singles in the circuit at the same time. Because it was so congested, radio calls tended to get abbreviated, often to the point that a "read back" would be the last two letters of the registration.

Sent off on my own to do a lap round the field and in. Was going fine up to the point I was cleared to land on short finals (the tower knew I was a first solo), then apparently not long before crossing the threshold I was told to go-around as they wanted to cross traffic from one side of the airfield to the other, which required a short backtrack as the taxiways were not aligned. From what I’m told, I’d replied with the two-letter callsign but from inside I don’t remember as by then I was fixated on the landing. The guy pulled out onto the runway in an ATP without looking, at the same time I touched down about 200m away.

All I remember is seeing prop discs getting rapidly larger in the window and thinking I couldn’t stop in time, then firewalling the throttle, yanking the PA28 back into the air and managing to miss the oncoming aircraft. I flew a rather wobbly circuit then shut the aircraft down on the pan, thinking that a career in aviation was probably not for me!

I was met on the way back to the crew room by the DCFI, ex-mil, who was striding purposely on an intercept course. As he got closer, his facial expression softened and by the time we got close he looked rather concerned. “Would you like a cup of tea?” I think were his first words. Later he told me that he had never seen anyone so bloodless and with pupils dilated to the extent that mine were. An hour later I was getting a bit of delayed shock and had to leave my car at the airfield and get a lift home. The next day full read backs were in force...

That was 30+ years ago and here I am in the LHS of a 777, so I proved myself wrong in one way.

[megan]

Vietnam, day off, operations calls and asks if I could take one of our Hueys down to Can Tho to pick up some spare parts, being an hour hog why not.

Taxiing for departure at Can Tho to return home to Dong Tam see a King Air (U-21) taxiing as well, him going to Saigon.

Settled in the cruise at exactly 2,000 on a cloudless beautiful day the cockpit is briefly darkened as the King Air sails overhead with seemingly only the thickness of a layer of paint separation. Being pressurised I expected him to be much higher. Always wondered what saved us both, sloppy flying on his part :p in not being at exactly 2,000, or inherent altimeter error. Tribulations of VFR in uncontrolled airspace.

[Pugilistic Animus]

Vietnam, day off, operations calls and asks if I could take one of our Hueys down to Can Tho to pick up some spare parts, being an hour hog why not.

Taxiing for departure at Can Tho to return home to Dong Tam see a King Air (U-21) taxiing as well, him going to Saigon.

Settled in the cruise at exactly 2,000 on a cloudless beautiful day the cockpit is briefly darkened as the King Air sails overhead with seemingly only the thickness of a layer of paint separation. Being pressurised I expected him to be much higher. Always wondered what saved us both, sloppy flying on his part :p in not being at exactly 2,000, or inherent altimeter error. Tribulations of VFR in uncontrolled airspace.
Hi Megan,
There was a similar incident, involving airplanes, written about in "Fate is A Hunter" by EK Gann...you may know that book already but what you describe seems like it belongs in that book :\

[Lancman]

Two Nimrods tracking the passage of a south-bound Russian Navy fleet well out off the West coast of the UK, us up at medium level monitoring wireless transmissions and under-water noises and the other one down at low level with a group of journalists on board taking photographs. Both of the pilots who I was with were very experienced Nimrod captains. The captain of the low level crew was O/c Operations Wing. There was also a U.S Navy P3 operating in the area.

When the U.S. P3 closed the fleet the captain of the lower Nimrod suggested that we dropped down to their level and formated on the P3 so that the camera team could get some snaps of close NATO co-operation and the P3 captain agreed provided he got some copies of the photos.

My flight engineer self preservation antennae went immediately to full alert as we closed into a position astern and to starboard of the P3. Unplanned, unbriefed, unpractised close formation at 800 feet with two dis-similar aircraft types! But apart from suggesting that we started up the two engines that we’d shut down for the loiter I just concentrated on my own panel on the principle that if a system failed it would fail at the time when it would cause maximum problems, and the two very competent pilots could get on with doing their job.

We’d completed one run down the side of the Russians with the P3 between us and the fleet and in clear view from the captain’s seat and had rolled into a port turn across the Russkies’ sterns in order run up their other side with the other Nimrod fairly close on our starboard side happily snapping away when the captain called out “Speed”. The P3 had lost a bit of airspeed during the turn and the Nimrod’s controls were beginning to feel a little sloppy, but the co-pilot seemed to be away in a little world of his own and when the captain called “Speed” again I turned my seat forwards and slid to where I could see an ASI. As I moved I saw the captain look down and simultaneously the P3 start to roll out of his turn and close us rapidly. I remember changing my shout from “Look out!” to “Look Up!” And the captain stuffed the nose down as the underside of P3’s tail slid past just above our cockpit windows.

There wasn’t a lot of room downwards for an escape manoeuvre so we broke formation and slid out sideways into a quiet area before climbing back up to our loitering height, taking a few deep breaths, and getting on with our proper job.

We all learned about flying from that.

[Centaurus]

Night landing at Guam in the Western Pacific region in a 737-200. Two parallel runways about 300 metres apart. 6L was 10,000 ft in length with ILS. 6R 8000 ft no aids no VASIS. Thresholds of both runways joined by taxiway at 90 degrees. Weather 1500 ft cloud base otherwise fine. We were cleared to make ILS to 6L and when visual below 1500 ft to break right to side step right to 6R. A normal SOP for Guam Agana Joint user military/civilian airfield.
Flew as instructed but once we side-stepped to 6R we lost all glide slope info due outside its 6L splay. Happily stabilised on 6R visual (no landing aids) we saw the outline of a big jet (PANAM 747) holding on the taxiway between the two thresholds. ATC cleared 747 to takeoff 6L. Very dark night so we could only see outline of 747 on taxiway and assumed he was taxiing away from us since ATC had cleared him for takeoff on 6Lb (the long runway).

We came over the 6R fence slightly high which was fortunate because unknown to us the 747 was opening to break-away thrust with his tail facing at 90 degrees to our flight path which was behind him. Suddenly our 737 almost fell out of the sky from 50 feet as the coplot called Christ - bug minus 20 and the 737 rocked laterally at the same time.
I firewalled both engines and pulled nose up to 15 degrees just as the aircraft was about to hit the runway very heavily out of control. The thrust took effect immediately and we got away from the ground as the wheels were about to hit the runway. It was a raw data instrument go-around. After we got over the shock of the near runway impact we were radar vectored back for the ILS for 6L and landed uneventfully.

Reason for the airspeed loss at 50 feet? Despite being cleared for takeoff immediately, the 747 had delayed moving from the taxiway to the threshold of 6L. Maybe the crew were still reading checklists? The crew would not be able to see our aircraft passing over the fence behind them due to the size of the 747. By the time we arrived at the threshold of 6R and within seconds of flaring for the landing, the 747 had opened up to breakaway thrust which caught us at 90 degrees. and 150 metres from the tail of the 747. The turbulence from its jetblast caused our 737 to sink rapidly. Fortunately we were already spooled up on short final which enabled firewall thrust available almost instantaneously. That and the windshear escape maneuver saved our aircraft from possible damage from a heavy landing. Our airline encouraged raw data instrument flying (our FD's were off) which helped during the go-around.

[JoThePlentyPax]

As an engineer I have a rough understanding of aircraft operations and capabilities. So I don't scare easily...
Then came my flight from FRA to AKL via PEK.
My first flight in a Boeing 787.
And approx over Kyushu started a rollercoaster flight as I have never witnessed before... Up, down, left, right, weightlessness, pushed into the seat and so on, for I guess 1 hour.
When I saw the wings bend up and down, I hoped that the Boeing engineers know their stuff...
Around me people were simultaneously praying and puking while I just sat there and gripped my armrests.
I got 4 warm meals on the flight because I was one of the few who actually ate something later :-)

[bean]

Centaurus. That is really scary

[paulross]

A dawn flight out of the desert in a F-27 to Tripoli. The flight was a puddle hopper stopping at various locations along the way and at midday we were approaching the last stop, Zella, and the landing was clearly going to be a challenge. It was February, the sandstorm season, and a thousand foot blanket of blowing sand covered the area. At ground level the visibility would be 200m at best and the ground and sky would merge together in the same muddy brown colour.

And so it proved, the first approach was aborted and the second fared no better. As we climbed away and circled around for another go my anxiety began to rise, I knew enough about aviation to understand that it was the third approach that killed you. After that approach failed things became more dynamic, again and again we circled steep and low, struggling to line up visually with the single runway. There were oil rigs all over the place, up to 200 feet AGL, and we barely rose above them. Once I saw the startled face of the Derrickman on the Monkey Board as we swerved past in the murk.

With every failed attempt I was trying hold back my rising sense of panic. True fear was beginning to grip me and I felt utterly helpless. To try and control myself I counted every approach and tried to keep track of where we were. I checked the location of the exits and the dangling first aid kit again and again. Good strong airframe, maybe with a low speed impact I might just make it.

Each low level manoeuvre started to be much more aggressive and by the eighth approach I had started to loose even hope. This is where I die I thought, with a pilot determined to pick up a VIP.

Then after one violent low level lurch it was over. The power came on, the gear came up and we climbed away. At 1000' we burst into the clear sunshine, a deep blue sky from horizon to horizon. It took a while for the fear to leave me completely but it felt as if I had been re-born.

Not all these trips ended up so well:


https://cimg8.ibsrv.net/gimg/pprune.org-vbulletin/768x509/h49a5248_768_cd2b250e9be46d8fc4d2762b0d1a37bca2dfeeb3.jpg

[Bergerie1]

This was mine:- https://www.vc10.net/Memories/IFRcockpit.html

[roger,roger-roger]

define " scary " ...

is it one's first flight as a Loadmaster on an African airline B707F operating LHR-FCO-NBO-NLA-LUN ..
when after landing FCO the F/O misread the chart and we exited the runway at the wrong intersection and found ourselves
facing an oncoming Alitalia B747 ..
the headset was almost ablaze with all the shouting - the x BOAC Captain shouting at the F/O .. the F/E shouting, the tower shouting ..
in my mind's eye I can still see the B747 trundling toward us ...and working out how whether if I opened the service door I could escape
before impact ...
Luckily we all stopped just in time and after the push back trucks came and rearranged us , departed for NBO ...


or being on a BA Trident 3 shuttle LHR-GLA departing 27L when shortly after wheels up there was a loud bang from the rear of the aircraft and
the engines noise diminished ... I remembered having worked at BEA when Papa India crashed at Staines ..so I knew being in a Trident in a nose up
attitude shortly after take off with little forward motion does not end well.
Immediately after the bang there was an overwhelming and incredible silence in the cabin.
There was a collective intake of breath and a lot of quiet prayers.
Mine weren't the only hands gripping the arm rests .
Then we banked and with some limited degree of power flew a quick circuit back to land.
Only after landing and pursued by Heathrow's finest was there a sense of panic and relief - and for those brave enough to continue a quick transfer to another aircraft.
Some were unfortunate - they literally were sh1t scared.
There was no announcement or explanation ...

or is it being extra Loadie on an A3F when the pressurisation failed and made an emergency descent to 12,000ft and then finding there
weren't enough oxygen masks ... the flight deck had masks .. so it was strange hearing their breathing but under control.. that was a headache ..

or

in a career of 50 years in aviation ( when it used to be fun ..) in many roles, in many places I could go on and on.
Best advice I was given was " flying is perfectly safe, crashing isn't "
safe aviating
Roger

[MDScot]

Back when DC-10s had a series of door related issues, climbing out from IAD, the entry door started to whistle as the pressure differential increased. Flight attendant at the nearby jump seat started to yell at those of us sitting in the front few rows of economy to move QUICKLY to the back of the plane ! I demurred, thinking that I would be better in my seat with my belt tightly buckled! Before we could discuss further, there was a loud "THUNK" as the door in finally seemed to seal properly. My neighbors came back to their seats. and n we went to LAX without any further incident..

[DrCuffe]

A trivial one after all the others here. I had signed up for a paragliding course in the south of France, but the weather hadn't worked out. In compensation the owner of the school said he would take us up a local peak, and we would do a buddy jump. We should be in the air for five to ten minutes.
A long drive on dirt roads up through state forestry, and eventually, we get to the peak, and launch. I'm just a passenger, but we are about 2000ft over the valley floor, when two military jets went past below us.

[blue up]

Flying as Pilot Assistant on a large Twin Cessna. Flew to France for several days of waiting in a Hotel for the rich passenger to desire a return trip. First night in Hotel meant following the lead of the glorious commander and over-sampling the delights of the bar. Awoke early the next morn to the ringing of the phone. "Get dressed....they want to go home right NOW!". Landed at a southern UK airfield in a state of misery and realised I was waaaay too plastered to drive home.

25 years on 737,747,757,767 and I never broke the 24 hour 'rule' ever again. 3 engine failures, 1 very near airmiss and several "I have control" events.

[Ancient Mariner]

Back when DC-10s had a series of door related issues, climbing out from IAD, the entry door started to whistle as the pressure differential increased. Flight attendant at the nearby jump seat started to yell at those of us sitting in the front few rows of economy to move QUICKLY to the back of the plane ! I demurred, thinking that I would be better in my seat with my belt tightly buckled! Before we could discuss further, there was a loud "THUNK" as the door in finally seemed to seal properly. My neighbors came back to their seats. and n we went to LAX without any further incident..
Something along those lines. Many, many moons ago I was a tiny little bit late arriving at the docks one morning in Salvador, Brazil and my ship was on its merry way to Santos sans me.
I was put on a a twin engined propeller plane, I have no idea of make or type, that would take me to Rio de Janeiro. One or two remaining brain cells suggests VASP?
Anyways, as the cow's size decreased, the whistle throught the front door, which happened to be next to me, increased until it reached a level sufficient high enought to pull a stewardess out of the cockpit. She calmy reached above my head, pulled out a blanket, rolled it up and offered it to the clearance between door and frame and the delta pressure took care of the rest.
Problem solved, back to cockpit for more flirting. Or so I, aged 16, assumed.
Per

[ex-cx]

PaulRoss may I ask where and when the broken F27 was photographed please?

[paulross]

PaulRoss may I ask where and when the broken F27 was photographed please?
ex-cx It was at Gialo, Libya, around 28 40'N, 21 30'E. This report seems pretty accurate (the words seem somewhat familiar to me): https://aviation-safety.net/database/record.php?id=19850306-0

I can add a little; a few days after the accident some engineers came and removed the radio and radar equipment but that's all, the rest was left as shown. It was still there as-is a year later beyond which I was posted. I don't know why, as a (non-aviation) engineer, that it should be treated as a write off. The aircraft was fairly new and the only significant damage was the left undercarriage leg collapse and the bent left prop. Surely that is not sufficient to write off the airframe?

Bizarrely about five or seven years later I knew a British Midland pilot whose father ran a spares business. They had been offered a F-27 in the desert and, knowing that I had worked there, he asked me if I knew about it. I was able to give him all the photographs so I guess it really was written off and broken for spares.

[WHBM]

Almost identical to my experience as a new copilot on an ATR42 - LCY- LBA..
I think I was one of the few (alas) who used this rather strange wet-leased, relatively short-lived operation. Do I remember landing on the now-closed short cross runway 27 at Leeds once ? Thanks for your time on it, hope you found something else quickly after it ended.

Regarding the overall thread, I've been flying all my life and can honestly say I have never encountered a "scary" moment. At all. Some big turbulence but that's straightforward and I'm lucky not to spend too much time in the tropics. First Solo, yes that very one, (C152) and proudly touching down on the grass got an immediate skid to about 45 degrees, must have somehow done some differential braking. OK, all up to me now, steer straight again, on we go ...

[DaveReidUK]

ex-cx It was at Gialo, Libya, around 28 40'N, 21 30'E. This report seems pretty accurate (the words seem somewhat familiar to me): https://aviation-safety.net/database/record.php?id=19850306-0

I can add a little; a few days after the accident some engineers came and removed the radio and radar equipment but that's all, the rest was left as shown. It was still there as-is a year later beyond which I was posted. I don't know why, as a (non-aviation) engineer, that it should be treated as a write off. The aircraft was fairly new and the only significant damage was the left undercarriage leg collapse and the bent left prop. Surely that is not sufficient to write off the airframe?

Bizarrely about five or seven years later I knew a British Midland pilot whose father ran a spares business. They had been offered a F-27 in the desert and, knowing that I had worked there, he asked me if I knew about it. I was able to give him all the photographs so I guess it really was written off and broken for spares.

Still there until at least 2009, judging from this photo:

https://cimg9.ibsrv.net/gimg/pprune.org-vbulletin/500x375/26130768_f42eb5b9b7897c99831cae54bd8e9638fde63afe.jpg

Old Fokker around Gialo 59 E airport (http://www.worldtravelserver.ru/travel/ru/libya/airport_warehouse_e_airport/photo_26130768-old-fokker-around-gialo-59-e-airport.html)

[paulross]

Still there until at least 2009, judging from this photo:

https://cimg9.ibsrv.net/gimg/pprune.org-vbulletin/500x375/26130768_f42eb5b9b7897c99831cae54bd8e9638fde63afe.jpg

Old Fokker around Gialo 59 E airport (http://www.worldtravelserver.ru/travel/ru/libya/airport_warehouse_e_airport/photo_26130768-old-fokker-around-gialo-59-e-airport.html)

Oh, nice find!

[BFM]

Paxing in an 8 seater twin turboprop would be not quite true, but I certainly couldn't fly it. I sat with my back to the cockpit, all the better to be snarled at by the Aussie pilot who didn't care for me much, or at all. We were sort of on business, going round South America. We were flying from Londrina (pretty much at sea level) to Potosi airfield (very much not at sea level - the town is at about 13,000 feet and the richer you are the lower you live as oxygen is precious there) which was a dirt strip at about 13,500 feet. This is Potosi, Bolivia, SLPO, by the way, not the Mexican airport. Flying in the Andes is an astonishing privileged experience, with these beautiful snow-capped mountains in a cruel razor sharp double ridge down the spine of South America. As we came towards the strip, the pilot shoved the thick manual in my hands over his shoulder and asked me to see how much power we would have for take off. I looked for the graph, and, having inspected it, truthfully told him I didn't know. He swore and grabbed the book off me. He lowered the undercarriage. He went back to the book and swore again, louder and worse. He saw why I couldn't work out the power - the graph ended at 7,000 feet altitude. We bumped down, and he parked up. As the engines died, there was a hiss of air round the doors. It was cabin air ESCAPING. As you stepped out of the plane, there was no sensation of wind as there was hardly any air. I trotted down the steps to the front of the plane and found myself gasping for breath. I felt very odd and slept little that night with a pounding heart (another altitude effect) and the next day we returned to the plane. From memory, the strip was about 6,000 feet. It's listed as 9,000 now. The pilot made us push the plane to the very end of the runway. By which I mean the tail was hanging over a cliff over a dizzying drop with the main landing gear about a foot from the edge. Unusually, as we were reasonably well acquainted with the aircraft he insisted on doing a preflight safety briefing. I can honestly say that I have never had a briefing before or since that started with the words, "Now listen you sh1ts, if I get killed... " He went on to identify the throttles, fire extinguishers, radios, beacons and emergency rations to an increasingly silent cabin. We still had no idea how much power the engines would make but it seemed obvious that if we didn't get airborne off the end it would be a quick death several thousand feet below. Ahead of us was a beautiful snow covered 21,000 foot mountain. We all strapped in as tightly as admittedly sweaty palms allowed. As I was facing backwards over the wing all I could see was fresh air. He started the props, and put on power with the plane held on the brakes before releasing them. We moved forward at the speed of a moped. We didn't seem to be accelerating at all. We trundled down the runway and suddenly he pulled back on the column with another oath. "Jesus Christ, there's a man on the runway!" We flashed over and presumably mightily startled a man with his donkey who had been quietly filling a hole in the strip, but it meant we had too little power to climb properly. We lumbered soggily ahead, the beautiful mountain came ever closer, and the pine trees on the lower slopes started to become visible as individual trees rather than a green mass. Nobody said a word. The mountain gradually enlarged over what felt like about an hour but was probably less than a minute until it threatened to fill the windscreen, when suddenly, the port wing dropped, and we seemed to slide down the side of the mountain into a slightly lower valley and as we fell we gained speed. After another very long pause the pilot straightened the wings and we slowly climbed to FL240. I understood that day what proper pilots did.

[deja vu]

Paxing in an 8 seater twin turboprop would be not quite true, but I certainly couldn't fly it. I sat with my back to the cockpit, all the better to be snarled at by the Aussie pilot who didn't care for me much, or at all. We were sort of on business, going round South America. We were flying from Londrina (pretty much at sea level) to Potosi airfield (very much not at sea level - the town is at about 13,000 feet and the richer you are the lower you live as oxygen is precious there) which was a dirt strip at about 13,500 feet. This is Potosi, Bolivia, SLPO, by the way, not the Mexican airport. Flying in the Andes is an astonishing privileged experience, with these beautiful snow-capped mountains in a cruel razor sharp double ridge down the spine of South America. As we came towards the strip, the pilot shoved the thick manual in my hands over his shoulder and asked me to see how much power we would have for take off. I looked for the graph, and, having inspected it, truthfully told him I didn't know. He swore and grabbed the book off me. He lowered the undercarriage. He went back to the book and swore again, louder and worse. He saw why I couldn't work out the power - the graph ended at 7,000 feet altitude. We bumped down, and he parked up. As the engines died, there was a hiss of air round the doors. It was cabin air ESCAPING. As you stepped out of the plane, there was no sensation of wind as there was hardly any air. I trotted down the steps to the front of the plane and found myself gasping for breath. I felt very odd and slept little that night with a pounding heart (another altitude effect) and the next day we returned to the plane. From memory, the strip was about 6,000 feet. It's listed as 9,000 now. The pilot made us push the plane to the very end of the runway. By which I mean the tail was hanging over a cliff over a dizzying drop with the main landing gear about a foot from the edge. Unusually, as we were reasonably well acquainted with the aircraft he insisted on doing a preflight safety briefing. I can honestly say that I have never had a briefing before or since that started with the words, "Now listen you sh1ts, if I get killed... " He went on to identify the throttles, fire extinguishers, radios, beacons and emergency rations to an increasingly silent cabin. We still had no idea how much power the engines would make but it seemed obvious that if we didn't get airborne off the end it would be a quick death several thousand feet below. Ahead of us was a beautiful snow covered 21,000 foot mountain. We all strapped in as tightly as admittedly sweaty palms allowed. As I was facing backwards over the wing all I could see was fresh air. He started the props, and put on power with the plane held on the brakes before releasing them. We moved forward at the speed of a moped. We didn't seem to be accelerating at all. We trundled down the runway and suddenly he pulled back on the column with another oath. "Jesus Christ, there's a man on the runway!" We flashed over and presumably mightily startled a man with his donkey who had been quietly filling a hole in the strip, but it meant we had too little power to climb properly. We lumbered soggily ahead, the beautiful mountain came ever closer, and the pine trees on the lower slopes started to become visible as individual trees rather than a green mass. Nobody said a word. The mountain gradually enlarged over what felt like about an hour but was probably less than a minute until it threatened to fill the windscreen, when suddenly, the port wing dropped, and we seemed to slide down the side of the mountain into a slightly lower valley and as we fell we gained speed. After another very long pause the pilot straightened the wings and we slowly climbed to FL240. I understood that day what proper pilots did.
Now that is a scary story.

[Thirsty]

Evening flight Brisbane to Townsville. Sometimes in the 1980's. Airline was TAA. Flight is very full, screaming babies and bogan school holiday travellers returning home with thongs and smelly feet. Sitting near the rear and the fluorescent light above the passageway begins to blink, intermittently at first but getting annoying. Hostess going back to galley notices, brings out a small trolley and gracefully climbs on it and undoes the cover. Removes the tube.

Fair enough - very considerate of passengers not getting epileptic fits from the strobing.

She goes back to the rear of the plane and emerges a few minutes later with a replacement tube, and proceeds to fit it to the clapping of the passengers. It didn't blink and worked as soon as she twisted it into place, live electricity and all. Taps the cover back into place and continues with food service.

Last time I flew TAA. I figured if the cabin staff were performing maintenance in an aircraft during flight using parts pre-stocked in the rear of the aircraft, fitted by short skirted air hostesses, maybe it wasn't the type of airline that needed me as a passenger.

Joined Ansett Golden Wings. By the time the welcome pack arrived in the mail, the airline was in deep trouble. Lucky I didn't get the lifetime membership package! Still have the welcome pack, gold printing and all, and the tiny lapel badge.

[Thirsty]

Spent many years as a regular SLF. With Ansett Golden Wings you got preferential regular seating choice. Got used to sitting in the RHS just fore of the wing as they told me this was the where there was least amount of movement in turbulence - they'd pass you a large glass of cold orange juice just as you got seated - always appreciated.

First flight on an Airbus, and flying Sydney Canberra one weekday afternoon. Looked out the window at about 200' AGL and yes we were between the hills with a bit of a buffeting side wind, coming in a bit fast. Went back to glance at the sports page of the afternoon paper, and happened to glance out at about 5 feet, and notice a pale green webbing showing where the engine previously was, with the top part missing! Careful tightening of the seat belt and quietly assumed the brace position discreetly. Several Hail Mary's and we touched down, rather hard as the flight was rather full.

The way it was later explained to me, the reverse thrust cover recedes back from the engine under the wing where I couldn't see it, and the pale green webbing was actually part of the bracing, but nobody had told me that and I certainly convinced myself that the engine was falling apart in this new aircraft as we touched down, only to see the cover slowly slide back into place as we taxied to the terminal.

Change of underpants when I got to the motel!


Last flight Sydney to Canberra on a Sunday evening was the best. Sometimes you were the only passenger so you got the red carpet treatment. One hostess was an accountant in a previous life, and we finished my tax return before landing, bank statements, receipts and papers spread across rows of seats and others helping sort them. Best tax refund ever!

[PAXboy]

Thirsty's story of thinking the engine was diassembling itself, reminded me:

I recall my nephew, when a 'boy pilot' with SAA in their 747 fleet (about 15 or so years ago). On the European runs, the supernumerary would sometimes be sent to have a rest period in a spare First Class seat. On one trip into LHR, after he'd done his shift he was told to stay there for the landing and enjoyed breakfast sitting in 1D.

During the approach, he was horrified to hear loud banging and crashing sounds under his feet and thought the aircraft was disintegrating. Until he realised it was the nose gear going down ... He'd never been sat there before!!

[FlightlessParrot]

Evening flight Brisbane to Townsville. Sometimes in the 1980's. Airline was TAA. Flight is very full, screaming babies and bogan school holiday travellers returning home with thongs and smelly feet.

For the benefit of non-Australian readers, "thong" used to be the regular Australian term for what are elsewhere known as flip-flops, or Jandals in NZ. It still causes me problems.

[Thirsty]

For the benefit of non-Australian readers, "thong" used to be the regular Australian term for what are elsewhere known as flip-flops, or Jandals in NZ. It still causes me problems.
Nope, some of the young ladies were coming home from the beach and hadn't changed - just put on a flimsy shawl over their shoulders to 'dress up' an bit for the flight. 'Thongs' in all meanings of the word. Like a baby in a topless bar, you didn't know where to look!

[visibility3miles]

Maybe not the scariest, but it had me worried.

I and another pilot in Northern California went up with the instructor of our flying club to get checked out for landing at high altitude airports in the Sierra mountains.

[i.e., anything above ~5,000 feet, ~ 1,500 meters.]

We were both told which airports we were supposed to land at. We both had the Truckee Airport (elevation 5,900 feet) on the north side of Lake Tahoe, and each had a smaller strip.

It was winter. [Which is good for density altitude.] The other pilot clearly had not checked the weather conditions at his designated small airport, as when we arrived, half the runway was covered in snow, so no chance that we could land or even do touch and goes. Like the classic small strip in the mountains, it was on top of a ridge, with a steep uphill slope, and an even steeper drop off on three sides.

I had read about mountain flying, and so knew you are supposed to be aware of the airport’s altitude and hence what altitude you should be at when flying the pattern.

This pilot fell into the trap of judging his pattern altitude by looking at the ground in the surrounding valley, so each time he made of his “final” approach, in three circuits, we were below the runway threshold on final and had to climb for the go-around, rather than being above and descending for a “landing.”

I suppose if he could have done an actual landing, the runway was steep enough that his full speed approach would have worked, but I was not thrilled to be in the back seat thinking, “We’re too low! We’re too low!”

[Pontius Navigator]

Quite mundane really, straight and level, 300 kts 500 feet, as we overhauled an Il38 he rolled right into us. He pushed, we pulled, drama over.

[brakedwell]

it happened at the of end 1976 when i was flying a Britannia 312F from Gatwick to Baghdad. We had been cleared from FL 210 to FL 250 about 30 minutes before reaching Zagreb. It was dark, but the radar was painting a very large CB above and just to the right of our track. There was no turbulence when it started to rain and the temperature was indicating way below zero. Over the next five or ten minutes we suffered a continuous string of engine failures, normally only two at any one time, but we were not able to maintain FL 250, so we were forced to descend! Zagreb would not clear us lower, but we could not comply! By this time we had lost all our airspeed indications, only one altimeter was working, but as it was dark and I had no airspeed readouts I decided to continue towards Baghdad using power settings to maintain a near average airspeed as possible.
The sun came up shortly before TOD. Baghdad cleared us direct to the airport and FL 50. We started a very careful descent, planning a landing without any airspeed readout, but around 10000 feet both airspeed indicators came alive and we made a normal landing. It was the longest most worrying night in my flying career!

[Gordomac]

Brakedwell : "Longest most worrying" ? After you gave me the leg, TFS-LGW and said " let's do a typical Command Assessment trip " you came up with the same phrase in the de-brief ! Happy New Year.

[brakedwell]

And a happy new year to you Gordon!

[ShyTorque]

Belize, 1980. I was back then a “first tourist” Puma helicopter pilot. Having done a full day’s single crew tasking in the usual very hot and humid jungle conditions, in the late afternoon we set off back up north to Airport Camp with a full load of assorted military passengers; the senior passenger being the Colonel of the Cheshire Regiment.

We got as far as Stann Creek, about 40% of the total distance, when it became obvious that a line of big thunderstorms was in our way, coming off the inland hills to the west. The very angry CB clouds and torrential rain stretched well out over the sea to the east of track. I decided not to attempt to fly over the sea; it wasn’t possible to know how far the storms extended and in any case we didn’t carry any sea safety or survival equipment. Climbing above was out of the question, some of those sub-tropical storms were known to extend to 50,000 feet.

I decided the only way to complete the flight was to maintain our present altitude (about 2,000 feet) and head for the brightest patch of sky (describing it as “bright” was a bit optimistic). We didn’t have a weather radar. As soon as we hit the rain, it was torrential, well beyond my previous experience and I lost all external visual cues. We were reasonably well practiced in instrument flying, but it took a few seconds to get established.

I was wary, not least because there was a concern about how much heavy rain it would take to put out the flame in the Turmo IIIC4 engines back then. The engines had relatively vulnerable, forward facing, open intakes (later retro-fitted with intake protection modules) and due to a serious potential fault with a pair of diodes in the start panel we were at that time not allowed to attempt in flight engine re-lights. If both diodes had failed (and we had no way of knowing), closing one engine control switch would switch off both engines!

I quickly realised that we were descending. I applied full power but it made little difference, the rate of descent increased until the VSI needle hit the bottom stop. I briefly looked at the engine gauges, thinking that I might have a flame out. They were both working as advertised and in any case, the rotor rpm was normal. I used my only remaining option - I flared the aircraft, in an attempt to trade speed for height from cruise speed to minimum power speed. We were still descending! I knew we were getting very low and was about to call “Brace, Brace!” because I no more options and really thought we were going to hit the trees!

However, a second later, we popped out into relatively clear sky, not far above the jungle tree tops. The torrential rain stopped as rapidly as it had started. Instantly, the aircraft climbed as it should have done in that configuration, like a cork out of a bottle. I checked the instruments and realised we had been below 400 feet. My mouth was as dry as a bone! We’d had a very close shave.

Ahead, the weather looked just as bad as before and I’d had enough for one day. We found a better gap in the clouds, away from rain did a 180 degree turn and went back to the Punta Gorda army camp. I had to explain why to the Colonel. He was really quite good about it, bearing in mind that he was travelling north for an important briefing. We stayed overnight and returned north to base the following morning.

I later realised that we’d probably hit what was then a relatively unpublicised phenomenon now known as a “microburst”. This is caused when updrafting air over a very wide area returns to earth in a much more violent form, in a very narrow piece of sky.

Once seen, never forgotten.

[compton3bravo]

Went on a jolly to Shannon from Gatwick on an AB Airlines BAC1-11 in the mid-1990s with a plane load of other hacks (journalists) celebrating the airlines Shannon service. Took off ok but then got into the jet wash of a preceding aircraft, we suddenly dropped like a stone. I have never known an aircraft go so quiet especially as everyone was nattering as the press do. Quite scary to say the least, but we survived and continued to Shannon and an Elizabethan banquet at Bunratty Castle. The return flight was as smooth as silk. It was a bit of a 'could you please layout my brown corduroy trousers please' event.

[Fareastdriver]

If it had been possible to record the 'most screams per landing' then the crown would have gone to the landing on the southeast runway of the old Kai Tak airport in Hong Kong. A long final to Stonecutters and then the sharp right descending turn to the runway. As they crossed the threshold most times there would be a bootful of rudder applied to line the aircraft up with the runway for touchdown. In the back of a 747 the seats move sideways between six to ten feet in an instant accompanied by howls of anguish from their occupants.

Years and years ago when pilots were converting to big aeroplanes the trainer would put the students in the back and wriggle the rudder to show them what it was like.

You can't do that with simulators.