An old pilot returns to the fold. A ramble from the past
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That nasty moment when the engine nearly stops
THAT NASTY MOMENT WHEN THE ENGINE NEARLY STOPS.
It was the time when I was the proud owner of the Falco and the hours were racking up nicely.
But the weeks were flying by and it was now time to do the check ride for my night rating renewal.
I had done not too many night flights in this aeroplane since my rating exam, but full of confidence I took off with the CFI examiner sitting beside me.
He was a hard but fair tasknaster but he really put me through it.
We had stayed close to the airport so I couldsee the runway lights at all times.
All the usual stuff, timed turns, set rates of climb and decent, well I suppose you all know the drill so I won't bore you with it.
The time passed quickly and as it turned out this was fortunate. to get it out of the way we had done the simulatd engine failure and at 500 feet with the runway nicely positioned for a landing away we went and on with the test.
OK he said, let's call it a day, so take me back. At that point i had been so engrossed in what I was doing flying the plane that I had completely forgotten to pull the carb heat to check for ice. Now whether he also had not noticed that I had not done it, or was waiting for me is a moot point, but the result whne I did do it was alarming. The engine did not like it at all. Coughs and splutters from up front. Crap, nose down a bit anfd trim out fast
The natural reaction is to ram the carb heat back in, but this must be denied. So we sat there for what seemed an etenity until the ice melted and the engine ran smoothly once more. He said nothing, I said nothing, so I think that we both had been a tad forgetful.
I do remember a time when we had just landed at one of those flyins and were parked up but had the radio on when there was a frantic mayday call.
A visitor who had come from Ireland had just joined the circuit and had an engine failure. ATC just cleared the circuit and the visitor just managed to get the plane down in one piece.
How strange that an hour late when a mechanic came to look at it the engine fired up without any problems at all. The evidence had melted away. Just ice.
But ice is tricky stuff whether it is in a carb or in a cloud.
As this tale is about ice then I can add a little footnote.
On aother of those glorious winter days when the sky is blue, just asking to be flown in I went fo a local hop. Just me and the plane way up in the sky practicing all the bits you seldom use. But time wa passing and I saw a very thin layer of cloud starting to gather below me. It looked thin enough so I called ATC for clearence and started back.
On the way back I had to get to the circuit height, so do I find a hole in the cloud or just go straight through. Its only thin methinks. Down into the clooud. It was thin but seconds later the windscreen is iced up and I can't see a thing out of it.
Again fortunately the cabin heater was working and as I levelled out, still on instruments a small hole appeared in the ice so I could see enough to fly by.
My pulse wa still a bit on the high side as I landed and taxied back to the hangar.
As I stepped out, the wing leading edges and the tail were still bearing a coat of ice. The metal had ben way below freezing point even tjough I was in bright blue sky, and being warm ion the coclpit I had given no real thoughtto the icing possibility. Silly me, there is an outside temperature thermometer looking at me and it is telling me to wake up. That is smoething you don't do twice, well I didn't do it again, so I put it down in the brain memory baks for immediate recall as and when necessary.
Happy flying chaps, but it is still winter out there so be careful
EG
It was the time when I was the proud owner of the Falco and the hours were racking up nicely.
But the weeks were flying by and it was now time to do the check ride for my night rating renewal.
I had done not too many night flights in this aeroplane since my rating exam, but full of confidence I took off with the CFI examiner sitting beside me.
He was a hard but fair tasknaster but he really put me through it.
We had stayed close to the airport so I couldsee the runway lights at all times.
All the usual stuff, timed turns, set rates of climb and decent, well I suppose you all know the drill so I won't bore you with it.
The time passed quickly and as it turned out this was fortunate. to get it out of the way we had done the simulatd engine failure and at 500 feet with the runway nicely positioned for a landing away we went and on with the test.
OK he said, let's call it a day, so take me back. At that point i had been so engrossed in what I was doing flying the plane that I had completely forgotten to pull the carb heat to check for ice. Now whether he also had not noticed that I had not done it, or was waiting for me is a moot point, but the result whne I did do it was alarming. The engine did not like it at all. Coughs and splutters from up front. Crap, nose down a bit anfd trim out fast
The natural reaction is to ram the carb heat back in, but this must be denied. So we sat there for what seemed an etenity until the ice melted and the engine ran smoothly once more. He said nothing, I said nothing, so I think that we both had been a tad forgetful.
I do remember a time when we had just landed at one of those flyins and were parked up but had the radio on when there was a frantic mayday call.
A visitor who had come from Ireland had just joined the circuit and had an engine failure. ATC just cleared the circuit and the visitor just managed to get the plane down in one piece.
How strange that an hour late when a mechanic came to look at it the engine fired up without any problems at all. The evidence had melted away. Just ice.
But ice is tricky stuff whether it is in a carb or in a cloud.
As this tale is about ice then I can add a little footnote.
On aother of those glorious winter days when the sky is blue, just asking to be flown in I went fo a local hop. Just me and the plane way up in the sky practicing all the bits you seldom use. But time wa passing and I saw a very thin layer of cloud starting to gather below me. It looked thin enough so I called ATC for clearence and started back.
On the way back I had to get to the circuit height, so do I find a hole in the cloud or just go straight through. Its only thin methinks. Down into the clooud. It was thin but seconds later the windscreen is iced up and I can't see a thing out of it.
Again fortunately the cabin heater was working and as I levelled out, still on instruments a small hole appeared in the ice so I could see enough to fly by.
My pulse wa still a bit on the high side as I landed and taxied back to the hangar.
As I stepped out, the wing leading edges and the tail were still bearing a coat of ice. The metal had ben way below freezing point even tjough I was in bright blue sky, and being warm ion the coclpit I had given no real thoughtto the icing possibility. Silly me, there is an outside temperature thermometer looking at me and it is telling me to wake up. That is smoething you don't do twice, well I didn't do it again, so I put it down in the brain memory baks for immediate recall as and when necessary.
Happy flying chaps, but it is still winter out there so be careful
EG
Last edited by ElderlyGent; 16th Jan 2017 at 14:24. Reason: THAT NASTY MOMENT WHEN THE ENGINE NEARLY STOPS
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IN THE BEGINNING.......There was a Tipsy Nipper
Sorry I hae been away for a while. but just had to have a cataract removed and it didn't go quite as I expected. Just very slow to recover and it needs some lasering to complete the operation. However..on with the tale.
In the beginning........ there was .............a Slingsby Tipsy Nipper.
This was the first aeroplane I had an interest in, a quarter share to be precise. She was not a thing of beauty, more of an ugly duckling than a graceful swan, but she, and I suppose we have to call them she after centuries of nautical forebears did have one very redeeming feature, in that she was possessed of a tricycle undercarriage, This is indeed a blessing for those of us who have coped with tail draggers with the ever present trap of the ground loop etc.
But I digress. You can sit in this aero and litterally strap on a set of wings that are attached at shoulder height and see the main wheels through transparent plastic windows set adjcent to your shoulders. All good stuff, and in addition she is fully aerobatic, if such perils entice you.
This particulaar Nipper G-AWDA did have one bit of temerament. She was, if she felt like it difficult to start. On turning the prop over by hand, yes there was no started motor, there was little compression.
Being an engineer, in fact a Ford engine reconditioner I had the means to correct this. So I removed the cylinde heads and the barrels to find out what wa amiss. Yes, the barrels shone like mirrors, there was a slight piston ring wear lip at the top of each cylinder, and the heads needed a lot of attention.
So a good honing of the barrels with a glaze breaker, a new set of piston rings, new valves all recut and lapped in, full decoke, new gaskets and all reassembled. At least now we had some compression, and a cold start was usually OK.. Not so with a hot engine.
Right. It's a bright blue day so off we go for a jolly.
At the home base there will usually be someone to help, becasue in essence this starting proceedure is a two person job, One to set the throttle and the mag switches and another to swing the prop.
With one person it is a bit different in that you make really sure that the wheels are chocked way more than is really necessay as you are standing in front of a spinnig propellor that might just leave a very nasty taste in your mouth if the plane moves forward. Also unless the throttle is set just so you have to go back and reset it and try again.
So being youngish and immortal when I was alone I found out that if I stood behind the prop with my back touching the wing, I could reach into the cockpit and set the throttle and switches to different settings if the engine didn't start.
So I am now standing with my right hand in the cockpit and my left hand swinging the prop.
Strange as it may seem and appear dangerous in the extreme I never had a moments worry while doing it.
The eingine fires up and you set the throttle to 1000 rpm then sidle along the wing until well clear of the spinning prop.
So now you are up there and decide to do some practice stalls.
Power back, and as the speed drops away you lift the nose until............
Nothing really happens. she just nods, wings level until airspeed creates lift and thats all that there is.
Just a seies of nods and recovery. Ah but! What's this? You are dropping silently at 1000 FPM. like the proverbial brick outhouse. That was her only real vice, if you can call it that, a known vice is not a problem .
I was sorry in a way to see her go, but one has to answer the call of fresh fields and pastures new. More adventures on the horizon, whispering their siren calls. More later.
In the beginning........ there was .............a Slingsby Tipsy Nipper.
This was the first aeroplane I had an interest in, a quarter share to be precise. She was not a thing of beauty, more of an ugly duckling than a graceful swan, but she, and I suppose we have to call them she after centuries of nautical forebears did have one very redeeming feature, in that she was possessed of a tricycle undercarriage, This is indeed a blessing for those of us who have coped with tail draggers with the ever present trap of the ground loop etc.
But I digress. You can sit in this aero and litterally strap on a set of wings that are attached at shoulder height and see the main wheels through transparent plastic windows set adjcent to your shoulders. All good stuff, and in addition she is fully aerobatic, if such perils entice you.
This particulaar Nipper G-AWDA did have one bit of temerament. She was, if she felt like it difficult to start. On turning the prop over by hand, yes there was no started motor, there was little compression.
Being an engineer, in fact a Ford engine reconditioner I had the means to correct this. So I removed the cylinde heads and the barrels to find out what wa amiss. Yes, the barrels shone like mirrors, there was a slight piston ring wear lip at the top of each cylinder, and the heads needed a lot of attention.
So a good honing of the barrels with a glaze breaker, a new set of piston rings, new valves all recut and lapped in, full decoke, new gaskets and all reassembled. At least now we had some compression, and a cold start was usually OK.. Not so with a hot engine.
Right. It's a bright blue day so off we go for a jolly.
At the home base there will usually be someone to help, becasue in essence this starting proceedure is a two person job, One to set the throttle and the mag switches and another to swing the prop.
With one person it is a bit different in that you make really sure that the wheels are chocked way more than is really necessay as you are standing in front of a spinnig propellor that might just leave a very nasty taste in your mouth if the plane moves forward. Also unless the throttle is set just so you have to go back and reset it and try again.
So being youngish and immortal when I was alone I found out that if I stood behind the prop with my back touching the wing, I could reach into the cockpit and set the throttle and switches to different settings if the engine didn't start.
So I am now standing with my right hand in the cockpit and my left hand swinging the prop.
Strange as it may seem and appear dangerous in the extreme I never had a moments worry while doing it.
The eingine fires up and you set the throttle to 1000 rpm then sidle along the wing until well clear of the spinning prop.
So now you are up there and decide to do some practice stalls.
Power back, and as the speed drops away you lift the nose until............
Nothing really happens. she just nods, wings level until airspeed creates lift and thats all that there is.
Just a seies of nods and recovery. Ah but! What's this? You are dropping silently at 1000 FPM. like the proverbial brick outhouse. That was her only real vice, if you can call it that, a known vice is not a problem .
I was sorry in a way to see her go, but one has to answer the call of fresh fields and pastures new. More adventures on the horizon, whispering their siren calls. More later.
I knew a chap many moons ago who had a Tipsy Nipper and he used to start it just as you describe. One day he forgot about the chocks and off she went. He ended up hanging on to one of the wingtips with the Nipper going round in circles. He rapidly became dizzy and finally let go. The Nipper's further progress was firmly halted when it embedded itself in his new car!
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Carved up on finals and a tricky take off.
Carved up on finals, and a tricky take off.
We had planned this trip for some time, a nice little jolly into one of those day fly ins.
I am not going to name the field. but it is well known for pilots from many many locations to come in, and it is also a grass field. I mention this last as it becomes part of the story later.
Right, here we go. The trip there was uneventual, just a nice low level VFR flight amongst a herd of white fluffy cumulus casting shadows on the green fields below.
They say that the UK is vanishing under a sea of concrete but it is still amasing to see just how much green there is beneath our wings.
Ooops! got side tracked with a memory or two there. Now where was I?
Ah yes, the destination was in view way off in the distance. I cannot remember (Really?) whether there was an eficient joining radio, but we knew that it was a left hand circuit and joined down wind as usual . Being in the Bonanza I liked to keep well clear so that I would have plenty of time to get set for turning base and finals, gear down etc etc, You know the drill.
So there we were now well established on finals, gear and flaps down and 70 on the clock, when without any warning a plane, again I will not mention the type, just came on in front and carved us up. I had seen him as he was on my left, but I assumed he had seen me on finals and had precedence.
The seperation was about 100 yards I think. maybe more. but what do I do now. There were several other craft in the area, and I was unwilling to peel off or climb into an overshoot and go round again. So I thought, right you so and so, we are going to have words. To start a radio chat about it with the ground would screw it up for all and sundry so I hung on the prop and landed just astern of him. I told my passengers to see just where HE parked as I made my way to where I was to park myself guided by a gent with a couple of batons.
Brakes on, shut down and breath again.
When we, that is my three passengers and I got to the offender, he was chatting loudly with a group of what he obviously thought were admireres or sycophants. he being the ace pilot, so I interrupted him.
To lay it on the four of us glared at him while I told him exactly what WE thought of him and his flying.
He turned a bright shade of red, outdoing the sunshine and blustered miserably. It was no contest really. His admirers were thinning out as I spoke.
Well I hope it was a lesson learned. I can only think he was looking left towards the field and did not check out up long finals to see if there was any conflict.
Anyway it ended well as far as I was concerned. Was it dangerous? Yes and no. Yes because of the proximity, but no because I did have two other avenues had we got closer.
So. dear reader, what would you have done. C'mon do tell.
So now to the tricky take off. This was later as we all were departing. A long line of planes head to tail queueing up one behind the other moving slowly up to the Holding poing where a gent with a flag would let you go. Now as we all know there is a big performance difference between concrete and grass, especially with the bigger heavier planes such as the Bonnanza with four people on board and a good fuel load. I knew the runway was or should be OK but it would be closeish. Plan A. hang back as far as you can, then when the flag drops, I could get her rolling before ling up so that there would be some knots on the clock and then go for it. I told my oppo what was going to happen and he would get the gear up as soon as I lifted of. The reason for this was that at the far end of the field there wa a midling high hedge sitting on the edge of the raised roadway that was now full of walkers going to the car parks and vehicles driving away from the field. High sided vehicles comes to mind. I didn't want to even glance away from looking full ahead.
As we turned onto the runway, I gave her full throttle and away we went,
We reached rotate, I held it there for just a few seconds longer then up and away.
Gear up I shouted, he flipped the switch and we cleared the hedge. I suppose we were well clear, but the rear passengers told me later that people were a bit startled to say the least.
The trip back to base was again sedate and very pleasent all the way.
Ain;t flying such fun, Boring, never.
We had planned this trip for some time, a nice little jolly into one of those day fly ins.
I am not going to name the field. but it is well known for pilots from many many locations to come in, and it is also a grass field. I mention this last as it becomes part of the story later.
Right, here we go. The trip there was uneventual, just a nice low level VFR flight amongst a herd of white fluffy cumulus casting shadows on the green fields below.
They say that the UK is vanishing under a sea of concrete but it is still amasing to see just how much green there is beneath our wings.
Ooops! got side tracked with a memory or two there. Now where was I?
Ah yes, the destination was in view way off in the distance. I cannot remember (Really?) whether there was an eficient joining radio, but we knew that it was a left hand circuit and joined down wind as usual . Being in the Bonanza I liked to keep well clear so that I would have plenty of time to get set for turning base and finals, gear down etc etc, You know the drill.
So there we were now well established on finals, gear and flaps down and 70 on the clock, when without any warning a plane, again I will not mention the type, just came on in front and carved us up. I had seen him as he was on my left, but I assumed he had seen me on finals and had precedence.
The seperation was about 100 yards I think. maybe more. but what do I do now. There were several other craft in the area, and I was unwilling to peel off or climb into an overshoot and go round again. So I thought, right you so and so, we are going to have words. To start a radio chat about it with the ground would screw it up for all and sundry so I hung on the prop and landed just astern of him. I told my passengers to see just where HE parked as I made my way to where I was to park myself guided by a gent with a couple of batons.
Brakes on, shut down and breath again.
When we, that is my three passengers and I got to the offender, he was chatting loudly with a group of what he obviously thought were admireres or sycophants. he being the ace pilot, so I interrupted him.
To lay it on the four of us glared at him while I told him exactly what WE thought of him and his flying.
He turned a bright shade of red, outdoing the sunshine and blustered miserably. It was no contest really. His admirers were thinning out as I spoke.
Well I hope it was a lesson learned. I can only think he was looking left towards the field and did not check out up long finals to see if there was any conflict.
Anyway it ended well as far as I was concerned. Was it dangerous? Yes and no. Yes because of the proximity, but no because I did have two other avenues had we got closer.
So. dear reader, what would you have done. C'mon do tell.
So now to the tricky take off. This was later as we all were departing. A long line of planes head to tail queueing up one behind the other moving slowly up to the Holding poing where a gent with a flag would let you go. Now as we all know there is a big performance difference between concrete and grass, especially with the bigger heavier planes such as the Bonnanza with four people on board and a good fuel load. I knew the runway was or should be OK but it would be closeish. Plan A. hang back as far as you can, then when the flag drops, I could get her rolling before ling up so that there would be some knots on the clock and then go for it. I told my oppo what was going to happen and he would get the gear up as soon as I lifted of. The reason for this was that at the far end of the field there wa a midling high hedge sitting on the edge of the raised roadway that was now full of walkers going to the car parks and vehicles driving away from the field. High sided vehicles comes to mind. I didn't want to even glance away from looking full ahead.
As we turned onto the runway, I gave her full throttle and away we went,
We reached rotate, I held it there for just a few seconds longer then up and away.
Gear up I shouted, he flipped the switch and we cleared the hedge. I suppose we were well clear, but the rear passengers told me later that people were a bit startled to say the least.
The trip back to base was again sedate and very pleasent all the way.
Ain;t flying such fun, Boring, never.
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LOBSTERS and THE WRONG END OF A LIGHT MACHINE GUN
Lobsters and the wrong end of a light machin gun.
I am not sure just how this saga came about, but I have a vague memory of my frequent flyer oppo with whom many flights were enjoyed, being keen to go to see how lobsters were farmed in Northern Ireland.
This intrigued me as my business was now running profitably, which incidently produced the necessary finance to enaable me to fly and allowed my entrepeneurial thoughts to ponder other avenues of revenue.
Would it be posible to fly a crate of live lobsters down to one of the small airfields close to London to sell to some of the posh restauants at greatly enhanced prices.
My upbringing on the Isle of Man had shown me that both crabs and lobsters could be transported in watertight containers between layres of kelp or seaweed kept wet for many hours.
A crate some three feet long by two feet wide and a foot deep would fit securely on the rear seats of the Bonanza. It would weigh less than two adults.
So with that in mind we set of for Newtownards where we were to be met by one of the farmers who would take us to the loch in his car.
As you come in on finals you fly low over a crowded cemetary, a reminder of what not to do in an aeroplane. But our trip was uneventual and we landed safely. As arranged we were met and started the journey to th farm.
Some time later we saw a British soldier standing in the middle of the road with his hand in the air signalling us to stop. This we did.
He was a sergeant , and hanging on his hip was a big black Browning .45 automatic pistol.
He suggested politely that we leave the car and identify ouselves.
At this point my old Army training kicked in. Just a routine check and no problem. We showed our various identity documents and the details were assiduously written down. He then rummaged through the car inside and out and in the boot as well.
But while this was going on I knew that he was not alone. He had to have a squad hidden in the undergrowth, They were good. No doubt about it, but I did spot one, and I realised that I was indeed looking right down the barrel of a Bren gun, I could just see the bipod and the curved magazine over the breech. Many many rounds I had fired through one of those some years before. The others I did not see, though I think there could have been four or more looking at us.
Of course this was in the 1970s and the ''troubles'' were at their height so no-one was taking any chances.
However we passed muster and were sent on our way.
We arrived at the farm and were taken by small boat out to a pontoon that edged a large net enclosure. In it were hundreds of lobsters at all stages of development. It was indeed fascinating.
Later, reality kicked in and though the idea was a good one it would not have worked out in practice as it would have had to be a two man job and totally weather dependent.
Both of us were fully committed to our different works, so I shelved the idea and soon it was filed away in some dusty corner of my mind.
Nothing happened on the way back to the airfield, the check point was gone.
The flight back ended another of those memorable flights that reamain in the retrieval system buried in the depths of memory.
This tale also brings to mind using the plane to...........
Well that's for next time.
Fly safely
EG
I am not sure just how this saga came about, but I have a vague memory of my frequent flyer oppo with whom many flights were enjoyed, being keen to go to see how lobsters were farmed in Northern Ireland.
This intrigued me as my business was now running profitably, which incidently produced the necessary finance to enaable me to fly and allowed my entrepeneurial thoughts to ponder other avenues of revenue.
Would it be posible to fly a crate of live lobsters down to one of the small airfields close to London to sell to some of the posh restauants at greatly enhanced prices.
My upbringing on the Isle of Man had shown me that both crabs and lobsters could be transported in watertight containers between layres of kelp or seaweed kept wet for many hours.
A crate some three feet long by two feet wide and a foot deep would fit securely on the rear seats of the Bonanza. It would weigh less than two adults.
So with that in mind we set of for Newtownards where we were to be met by one of the farmers who would take us to the loch in his car.
As you come in on finals you fly low over a crowded cemetary, a reminder of what not to do in an aeroplane. But our trip was uneventual and we landed safely. As arranged we were met and started the journey to th farm.
Some time later we saw a British soldier standing in the middle of the road with his hand in the air signalling us to stop. This we did.
He was a sergeant , and hanging on his hip was a big black Browning .45 automatic pistol.
He suggested politely that we leave the car and identify ouselves.
At this point my old Army training kicked in. Just a routine check and no problem. We showed our various identity documents and the details were assiduously written down. He then rummaged through the car inside and out and in the boot as well.
But while this was going on I knew that he was not alone. He had to have a squad hidden in the undergrowth, They were good. No doubt about it, but I did spot one, and I realised that I was indeed looking right down the barrel of a Bren gun, I could just see the bipod and the curved magazine over the breech. Many many rounds I had fired through one of those some years before. The others I did not see, though I think there could have been four or more looking at us.
Of course this was in the 1970s and the ''troubles'' were at their height so no-one was taking any chances.
However we passed muster and were sent on our way.
We arrived at the farm and were taken by small boat out to a pontoon that edged a large net enclosure. In it were hundreds of lobsters at all stages of development. It was indeed fascinating.
Later, reality kicked in and though the idea was a good one it would not have worked out in practice as it would have had to be a two man job and totally weather dependent.
Both of us were fully committed to our different works, so I shelved the idea and soon it was filed away in some dusty corner of my mind.
Nothing happened on the way back to the airfield, the check point was gone.
The flight back ended another of those memorable flights that reamain in the retrieval system buried in the depths of memory.
This tale also brings to mind using the plane to...........
Well that's for next time.
Fly safely
EG
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AUTO LAND...Well nearly.
Auto Land. Well nearly.
Just a quick error correction, I got my Brownings and Colts mixed up. Sorry for the error. So now back to the main saga.
As I progressed up the ladder to my I R I decided to upgrade the Bonanza to full airways 1978 version as it then allowed me to practice in my own aeroplane many of the test procedures while in VFR or IMC.
As the instalation of all the new stuff proceded I added a two axis autopilot. This allowed for heading lock and wing leveller but not height hold. So even in IMC conditions after take off and established on a heading I could just set up a nice climb and let the aero climb into the bright blue up there until we broke out into sunlight, And of course the opposite also applied on descent.
In addition to this it could be locked onto a VOR radial and slowly intercept that radial from about 45 degrees off. It would then set up the heading to allow for drift due to side winds etc.
Now this ability made me think how else could I use it.
Basically an ILS is just a local VOR so could I just lock the AP onto it and it would take care of drift, and if I set up the correct rate of descent to stay on the glide path all would be well.
It was at this time that the HSI was starting to come into play, but I had already got used to the seperate intstruments. I just liked keeping the needles crossed in the centre circle. OK even then I was a bit old fashioned.
To run through an ILS approach, even a practice, one would follow the pattern. For example into Liverpool arrive overhead, fly out , turn to port 45 deg (I think, not having the chart to hand) get the gear down and the flaps set, then the turn onto finals, at which time the auto pilot would be locked into the 26 radial. Pass the outer and inner markers and get the rate of descent settled then monitor the height and adjust as needed until descision height. Runway in sight, switch the AP off and land by hand.
I tried this many times and it worked well even through cloud and some iffy weather.
I suppose it worked best after radar vectoring to the localiser rather than doing a full patten.
Whilst thinking about this it crossed my mind to mention that while out for a jolly or going somewhere intersting we woukd get permission to loiter at an NDB at a height no one else would be at for half an hour or so to get to grips with a holding patern.
IMHO the STACK is probably the hardest thing to fly accurately when you have to include dropping down a 1000 feet every time until it your turn to get onto finals.
That's about it for this time so I will close with just one more comment When I was demostrating the plane to a buyer, yes that tme comes to us all, he had never seen the AP intercepting a radial. I think that one item let me get the asking price without argument. He just sat there wide eyed muttering ''What a mighty machine''. When I deivered the plane to his home field the last part of the finals was between trees that were traller then the height of the plane, at the end of a grass mown runway. The gap seemed awfully narrow from above, but all ended well.
Cheers chaps, happy flying, and the weather might just be getting a bit better soon.
EG
Just a quick error correction, I got my Brownings and Colts mixed up. Sorry for the error. So now back to the main saga.
As I progressed up the ladder to my I R I decided to upgrade the Bonanza to full airways 1978 version as it then allowed me to practice in my own aeroplane many of the test procedures while in VFR or IMC.
As the instalation of all the new stuff proceded I added a two axis autopilot. This allowed for heading lock and wing leveller but not height hold. So even in IMC conditions after take off and established on a heading I could just set up a nice climb and let the aero climb into the bright blue up there until we broke out into sunlight, And of course the opposite also applied on descent.
In addition to this it could be locked onto a VOR radial and slowly intercept that radial from about 45 degrees off. It would then set up the heading to allow for drift due to side winds etc.
Now this ability made me think how else could I use it.
Basically an ILS is just a local VOR so could I just lock the AP onto it and it would take care of drift, and if I set up the correct rate of descent to stay on the glide path all would be well.
It was at this time that the HSI was starting to come into play, but I had already got used to the seperate intstruments. I just liked keeping the needles crossed in the centre circle. OK even then I was a bit old fashioned.
To run through an ILS approach, even a practice, one would follow the pattern. For example into Liverpool arrive overhead, fly out , turn to port 45 deg (I think, not having the chart to hand) get the gear down and the flaps set, then the turn onto finals, at which time the auto pilot would be locked into the 26 radial. Pass the outer and inner markers and get the rate of descent settled then monitor the height and adjust as needed until descision height. Runway in sight, switch the AP off and land by hand.
I tried this many times and it worked well even through cloud and some iffy weather.
I suppose it worked best after radar vectoring to the localiser rather than doing a full patten.
Whilst thinking about this it crossed my mind to mention that while out for a jolly or going somewhere intersting we woukd get permission to loiter at an NDB at a height no one else would be at for half an hour or so to get to grips with a holding patern.
IMHO the STACK is probably the hardest thing to fly accurately when you have to include dropping down a 1000 feet every time until it your turn to get onto finals.
That's about it for this time so I will close with just one more comment When I was demostrating the plane to a buyer, yes that tme comes to us all, he had never seen the AP intercepting a radial. I think that one item let me get the asking price without argument. He just sat there wide eyed muttering ''What a mighty machine''. When I deivered the plane to his home field the last part of the finals was between trees that were traller then the height of the plane, at the end of a grass mown runway. The gap seemed awfully narrow from above, but all ended well.
Cheers chaps, happy flying, and the weather might just be getting a bit better soon.
EG
