Saturday, April
29th. The day is bright and clear, a good day for
flying. It would be, wouldn't it? I have to admit, I haven't
been looking forward to this flight; an introduction to
stalls & spins. It all stems from a bad experience
I had as a child of 12 or 13 on a fairground ride. I'll
spare you the gory details of my projectile vomiting,
suffice to say there's nothing quite like the humiliation
of having to have the floor under your seat hosed down
after you disembark the ride. Well, I did scream at the
rather surly operator several times, "STOP THE RIDE,
I'M GOING TO BE SICK!!!", so he can't say I didn't
warn him. Anyway, in spite of the fact that I've never
been sick at a fairground since - and I've been on far
more violent and stomach churning rides than that one
- I still have this silly little fear that anything more
than straight and level flight will make me suddenly and
rather unpleasantly ill. Worse case scenario: I spend
the rest of the day apologizing to my instructor for spewing
all over him.
I suppose a quick word on stalls would be appropriate
here. Contrary to what my co-workers thought when I told
them my next lesson was stalling, this does not refer
to the engine. Yes, when you stall your car the engine
quits, but stalling an airplane is an entirely different
matter. A stall in an airplane is when the wing exceeds
the critical angle of attack at which point the airflow
can no longer flow smoothly over the top of the wing and
loss of lift occurs. In layman's terms, you tried to make
the airplane do something it simply refuses to do and
you may well pay a price for it. Depending on the situation
(and the type of aircraft), this could be either a very
minor price in which case you just need to unstall the
airplane and carry on about your business, or it could
be entirely more serious and something you may not walk
away from. Either way, recognizing a stall, what causes
it, and how to get out of it (or better yet, avoid it
in the first place) is a valuable part of learning to
fly.
I arrive at the airfield a bit early and Tony and I sit
down in the clubhouse for a pre-flight briefing. This
doesn't do much to alleviate my nervousness as I figure
anything that requires a pre-flight briefing must be fairly
serious. Tony gives me the lowdown on what maneuvers we'll
be doing and what kind of response to expect from the
airplane. The first thing we'll be doing is a power off
stall recovery in the clean configuration (flaps up),
or a non-standard stall recovery as it is known. Well,
that doesn't sound too bad. Next will be the "power-on"
standard stall recovery in the clean configuration. Here
we may encounter a wing drop due to "tip stall",
which is when the wingtips stall before the wing nearer
the fuselage because the prop wash is still providing
some lift. Then it's stalls with power on and flaps down.
This, I'm warned, is when the wing can really drop with
a vengeance. "So is it a fairly violent maneuver?",
I ask. "Depends", says Tony with a grin. "How
violent do you want it to be?". Oh joy.
We trundle off to the Cessna 152 - G-BHRB again - and
after the usual checks and radio calls, we're airborne.
We climb to 3400 feet as this will be the height we'll
be stalling from in order to have sufficient height to
recover by 3000 feet. Tony goes through the pre-aerobatic
"HASELL" checklist with me:
Height - Sufficient to recover by 3000 feet.
Airframe - Flaps & landing gear as desired, brakes off, in trim.
Security - Hatches & harnesses secured, no loose objects in cockpit,
gyros caged if necessary.
Location - Away from controlled airspace, built-up
areas and other aircraft. VFR (Visual Flight Rules)
conditions.
Lookout - A quick 180° turn to check the area around & below
us is clear.
Here we go. Tony Hancock's voice from
"The Blood Donor" pops into my head: "Well,
this is it, over the top". Tony demonstrates the
power off stall recovery in the clean configuration. He
closes the throttle and hauls back on the control column.
With the nose high in the air I can hear the stall warning
buzzing in my ears and feel the buffeting from the disturbed
airflow over the tail surfaces. I wait for my stomach
to leap into my throat in protest as the airplane drops
out from under us. And I wait. I glance at the rate of
climb indicator and notice we're dropping at about 1000
feet a minute. Tony lowers the nose and we recover from
the stall. Power back on and we climb back to 3400 feet.
That was it?! We completely stalled and I didn't even
notice it!! Cripes, that was a piece of cake! Tony demonstrates
one more time and then it's my turn. Power off and then
I haul back on the control column. It takes quite a bit
of effort to bring it all the way back and I realize you've
really got to want to stall this thing. I centralize the
controls and, after the plane recovers, I add power again.
Seems pretty straight forward.
Next is the power-on stall. Tony sets the throttle for
about 1700 rpm and then brings the nose up as before.
The stall warning goes off and the left wing drops a bit,
right on cue. Tony lowers the nose and crams on full throttle
with a bit of right rudder to correct the yaw. We've only
lost about 50 feet in height. Cool. So far so good. I
try the maneuver next. I should interject at this point
and mention something about tip stall that I'd learned
from our pre-flight briefing. Correcting a wing drop in
the usual manner - with aileron - during a tip stall will
not work. In fact it could even make matters worse. The
reason being that, normally the aileron on the dropping
wing would deflect downwards to raise the wing, but as
the stall approaches the lowered aileron may cause the
wing to exceed the critical angle of attack and, instead
of rising, the loss of lift would cause the wing to drop
further. At this point, you could be on your way to getting
into a full blown spin. So the idea is to correct any
wing drop during a stall with opposite rudder and leave
the ailerons neutral. That's the idea, anyway. In practice
I discovered it's not so easy to tell your brain to leave
the ailerons alone, because when that wing drops my natural
reaction is to steer the other way with my hands, not
my feet.
Now the real fun begins; stalls with flaps down. Again,
I get a demo first. 30° of flap - the landing configuration
- 1700 rpm, nose up, stall warning goes off and... wham!!
, I'm looking out the left window straight down! Holy
shit, he wasn't kidding about that wing drop! One minute
I'm looking up at the sky, a millisecond later the aircraft
has rotated almost 90° on to its left side!! Yikes!!!
It's at this point that it suddenly occurs to me that,
rather than being sick to my stomach as I expected, I'm
actually enjoying it. In fact, it's a hoot! What the hell
was I worried about?! This is way better than any damn
fairground ride. I try the maneuver next. Again, that
vicious tip stall rears its head, but in spite of my instruction
to the contrary I instinctively crank in opposite aileron.
D'oh! I try it again and this time I remember the rudder
but I'm still trying to steer out of it with the ailerons
as well, though not quite as much and I straighten the
wheel right away. Another go - this time for sure! Well,
maybe not. Again I stall the plane and again I feed in
both rudder and aileron to correct the wing drop. Stupid
brain. Well, I get the idea anyway, I'll just have to
practice it more in future.
Tony finishes off the lesson with a demonstration of what
we definitely don't want to inadvertantly get into - a
spin. This is the most violent maneuver yet, but again,
it's a hoot and not a sign of airsickness!! The nose comes
up and as the airplane stalls he kicks in full opposite
rudder with a bit of power to induce the tip stall. The
airplane whips over and next thing I know I'm looking
straight down at the ground spiralling up at me. After
a couple of turns Tony stops the spin and we pull about
3gs on the recovery from the dive. The Cessna 150/152
is notoriously difficult to get into a spin, and that
was really more of a spiral dive, so we give it another
go, but again the old Cessna refuses to get into a true
flat spin. Ah well, I thoroughly enjoyed the experience
anyway and I got out of the airplane at Barton feeling
on top of the world and with a great sense of relief that
my concerns had been for nothing. The lesson has given
me more confidence and a greater knowledge of just what
I can and can't do with the airplane.