Your Scariest Flight ?
 

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 ?

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!

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

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!!

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.

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.

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.

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

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 !

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:

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

Nice job Shy

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.

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 . . .

Damm close call
 

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Gosh, that was a scary one.

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.

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".

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.

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....2dcfe89844.jpg

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?

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.

Instant Fear
 

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.

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

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?

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

I have nothing to tell here, thank God

Ah, don't you just love perfection.
 

Nothing to tell, or nothing to learn ?

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?

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 !!