The Three C's Revisited

"Climb, Communicate, Confess" - following this advice has undoubtedly saved the lives of many VFR pilots who inadvertently flew into clouds or IMC weather beyond their capability. It is advice taken to heart even by professional pilots with thousands of flight hours - including this EMS helicopter pilot whose adventure began when an emergency call was received at night:

• I departed responding to a call. En route, I encountered nothing unusual except a few patches of lower clouds to the south and west of the landing zone. After a brief orbit to make way for a departing aircraft, I landed. I was loaded in approximately 10 minutes and we departed on a direct route.
  
  On departure, I observed [that] the weather in the area appeared clear [and] I was able to see stars and the distant lights. I initially climbed to 11,000 feet to ensure adequate terrain clearance and selected a heading which would steer me well clear of terrain. During the climbout, I found myself inadvertently positioned between two cloud layers and gradually losing visual reference. I briefly saw the stars above me and thought I could get on top by climbing a little higher. It was at this time I realized I had lost visual reference and elected to transition to the instruments. I contacted Center and apprised them of my situation. Center issued me a squawk code and suggested I climb to 12,500 feet. Shortly after my initial contact with Center, I was able to clearly establish visual reference with the terrain and proceeded directly to [destination].

The Three C's Forgotten

Our next reporter was intent on building his multi-engine time. He cut a good deal (or so he thought) with an entrepreneurial "old-timer" — but ended a cross-country flight lucky to be in one piece, and a lot wiser.

• In an effort to build multi-engine time, I agreed to fly with an operator who had business all across the country… I agreed to pay for all fuel plus a high hourly rate. It is nearly impossible to rent a multi-engine [aircraft] with low time. As we flew across the country, the list of mechanical problems grew at an exponential rate. The owner of the aircraft was an old-timer who was afraid of airspace and considered the FARs an infringement of his freedom. He referred to Class B and Restricted Areas as "the little blue lines." He preferred to go GPS direct and not talk to anyone if he didn’t have to. At one point, I had him fly because the weather was low, and the flight terminated by flying tree-top level in rain and low ceilings. When I began to fly again, he was in such a hurry he pressured me to fly VFR into what appeared to be a thunderstorm. That’s when I started down through a hole and ended the flight.
  
  I landed at the primary airport in Class C [airspace]. Because of my lack of familiarity and a badly precessing directional gyro, I nearly landed on the wrong runway without clearance… I’d had enough…and didn’t feel safe in this airplane, so I got out 1500 miles from home. I felt good about this decision. It’s better to be on the ground wishing you were in the air, than in the air wishing you were on the ground.

This incident brings to mind three other C’s that were sadly lacking throughout this flight: good CRM, clear aircraft Command, and Common sense. We’re glad our reporter decided to ground himself and subsequently Communicate with ASRS.

The Saga of "Hairy Hazmat"

It's well known that ASRS reports have been the basis of many safety improvements, but it may surprise some to learn that our reports can also serve as inspiration for poetic flights of fancy. We illustrate with the metamorphosis of a matter-of-fact report received from a B757 Captain into a clever rhyme:

• A mouse jumped out of carts in the forward galley and ran into the cabin. The first Flight Attendant entered the event in the cabin maintenance log and did not inform appropriate authorities or warn the departing [cabin] crew. New first Flight Attendant informed us of the discrepancy in the cabin maintenance log after takeoff. Such an event should have been entered in the aircraft maintenance log, and the aircraft either fumigated or the mouse disposed of prior to departure. A mouse has the potential to nibble on wiring, causing short circuits.

And now the poem inspired by this event, penned by an ASRS analyst
(whose identity must remain confidential):

- The food cart's unloading was observed by the crew,
And the cart was secured with a push and a "Whew!"
But during the last minutes of rushed this and that,
UP popped a passenger named Hairy Hazmat,
Indeed, Hairy had carefully rehearsed his part:
For more comfortable seating he jumped from the cart.
Thus vanished the tail of Hairy Hazmat,
But instead of a write-up - the crew needed a cat.