Canuck
David Megginson
- Joined
- Mar 31, 2016
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I took my niece up today for her first flight in a small plane. On the way back in, I had just switched to the Gatineau Radio mandatory frequency, when someone jumped in ahead of me and said that he was heading for the airport, but didn't have much power left (he sounded stressed, but not panicky).
The specialist asked the pilot for clarification, and he said the engine wasn't making much power, and he'd have to land soon. She asked him if he wanted to declare an emergency, and he said something that sounded like "yes" very quietly. She asked how many people on board (she knew enough not to say "souls"), and he answered that there were two, him and his wife. She asked him how much fuel, and he answered "maybe three quarters."
Her next ask was whether he could join the right downwind for 27 (he was coming from the west). At this point, the specialist was getting a little flustered, I think. He said he wouldn't make it. Then she asked if he could land straight-in on 09 (the winds were light, and she should have offered that right away). He replied that he wasn't going to make it, and that he'd have to land in a field (he was over mostly suburban development, but there are still a few fields to the west of the airport). She asked him to call after he landed.
There was a brief pause, then regular communications resumed (a couple of pilots had tried to cut in during the emergency, but most of us stayed off I just circled quietly north of the zone to stay out of the way). After she had a few minutes to clear up the backlog, I gave my intentions and picked up a squawk code.
Shortly after that, a colleague took over the FSS radio position (I imagine the original specialist was in pretty bad shape at that point). The new guy asked me to confirm that I was squawking a completely different codethe first specialist had probably, understandably, mixed things up a bitand once that was sorted out, he asked a francophone pilot already flying on the other side of the airport to look for the downed plane. The report came back in fast, thick Quebec French, so I might have missed some details, but it sounded like he saw a plane with the correct markings, apparently undamaged, in a field, with two people moving outside it, and a house not too far away.
So ... fingers crossed it sounds like an OK ending. Under a lot of stress, the pilot made the right choice and put down in a nearby field instead of trying to stretch his glide an extra mile or two to the big, welcoming 6,000 ft runway filling the windshield straight ahead of him.
I'll see if there's anything in the news later. Quite the experience for my grade-9 niece listening to all that on her first flight, but she was fine, and still excited enough to take a video of the landing.
The specialist asked the pilot for clarification, and he said the engine wasn't making much power, and he'd have to land soon. She asked him if he wanted to declare an emergency, and he said something that sounded like "yes" very quietly. She asked how many people on board (she knew enough not to say "souls"), and he answered that there were two, him and his wife. She asked him how much fuel, and he answered "maybe three quarters."
Her next ask was whether he could join the right downwind for 27 (he was coming from the west). At this point, the specialist was getting a little flustered, I think. He said he wouldn't make it. Then she asked if he could land straight-in on 09 (the winds were light, and she should have offered that right away). He replied that he wasn't going to make it, and that he'd have to land in a field (he was over mostly suburban development, but there are still a few fields to the west of the airport). She asked him to call after he landed.
There was a brief pause, then regular communications resumed (a couple of pilots had tried to cut in during the emergency, but most of us stayed off I just circled quietly north of the zone to stay out of the way). After she had a few minutes to clear up the backlog, I gave my intentions and picked up a squawk code.
Shortly after that, a colleague took over the FSS radio position (I imagine the original specialist was in pretty bad shape at that point). The new guy asked me to confirm that I was squawking a completely different codethe first specialist had probably, understandably, mixed things up a bitand once that was sorted out, he asked a francophone pilot already flying on the other side of the airport to look for the downed plane. The report came back in fast, thick Quebec French, so I might have missed some details, but it sounded like he saw a plane with the correct markings, apparently undamaged, in a field, with two people moving outside it, and a house not too far away.
So ... fingers crossed it sounds like an OK ending. Under a lot of stress, the pilot made the right choice and put down in a nearby field instead of trying to stretch his glide an extra mile or two to the big, welcoming 6,000 ft runway filling the windshield straight ahead of him.
I'll see if there's anything in the news later. Quite the experience for my grade-9 niece listening to all that on her first flight, but she was fine, and still excited enough to take a video of the landing.
