March 30, 2021 Flying Blind

The Liberty Gazette

March 30, 2021

Ely Air Lines

By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

The phrase, “flying blind” may make you think of the titles of various forms of entertainment — a couple of novels, at least two films, a short-lived 90s sitcom, and an album by Irish vocalist Niamh Kavanagh. None, however come close to the reason the phrase exists, which is to describe flying in conditions so visually obscured that one must rely on the aircraft’s instruments in the panel to know where to go and how to handle the airplane. This begs the question, could a blind person fly an airplane? 

Blindness in one eye does not necessarily prevent the acquisition of a pilot certificate. There are airline pilots who have been able to demonstrate to the FAA that they can fly with the visual input from one eye. However, there really are fully blind pilots. While they cannot be given a pilot certificate to fly on their own, they can and do show the world how to overcome barriers. 

For example, British blind adventurer Miles Hilton-Barber flew a microlite aircraft halfway around the world from London to Australia using audio computer software.

A group of air cadets, the Flying Aces, led by the Air Training Corps of Scotland, are encouraged to consider that if they can fly an airplane, they can do anything. These teens with various disabilities are given a boost of confidence which leads them to think more broadly about their future. 

For those who prefer the experience on the ground, Canadian company Pacific Feelings Media created “It’s Your Plane,” which was light years beyond Microsoft Flight Simulator. In Blind Pilot Mode, this virtual co-pilot took voiced instructions and applied them to simulator flying, from pre-flight to shut down. 

And then there’s Jim Platzer, former president of a Fortune 500 company, forced into early retirement due to retinitis pigmentosa. Jim was a pilot before he went blind. His ambition to get back in the left seat (with dual controls and a flight instructor next to him) inspired Jason DeCamillis to take to the skies. Jason wanted to learn to fly a plane ever since he was a child, but he too has retinitis pigmentosa. As a special education teacher and advocate for students with disabilities, when he heard about Jim flying around, he quickly realized how many more people he could encourage in a new way. 

Jason’s flight instructor, Dr. Alex Arts, teaches people to fly when he’s not performing ear surgery. Ironically, Alex was rejected by the Navy for a pilot position because he did not have 20/20 uncorrected vision. Years later, he was helping Jason learn to fly an airplane. 

He says, “I can see people asking, why would you spend all this money when the endpoint is limited? But the endpoint is limited no matter what you do. So, we’ve gone from flying airplanes to the most fundamental part of being a human being.”

Jason agrees. “It’s not about overcoming disability; it’s about living my life. I want to share what is possible when we work together across ability.”

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

March 23, 2021 Here's Learing at You

The Liberty Gazette

March 23, 2021

Ely Air Lines

By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Mike: Last month, Bombardier, the builder of the Learjet, announced that it would cease production of that iconic aircraft. Though Lears will fly for many years to come, it is difficult to accept the end is on the horizon. The Learjet 35A is the model I have the most experience in. Since 1991, I have logged nearly 7,500 hours in Lears. There are 8,760 hours in a year, meaning about ten and a half months of my life were spent strapped to a hotrod. 

Learjet at La Carlota

The Learjet was the vision of Bill Lear, the inventor of the eight-track tape player. He was probably a genius, but he was also eccentric. I once landed in Salt Lake City unable to operate my landing lights. 

The mechanic found some funny looking crumbling electrical wiring that did not look like any of the electrical schematics. Yet, it looked like an original installation, so he contacted the factory folks. The engineers in Wichita didn’t know anything about what they assumed was a modification. 

They went looking for people who worked on the production line when our plane was built and found a guy who had been retired for more than ten years who remembered what happened. He told how Bill Lear came out to the production line one day and wanted to try out something new. I was told this was a common occurrence, Bill making ad-hoc modifications during production, which is what led to the affectionate saying, “the Learjet is the world’s most expensive homebuilt airplane.”

Learjet at General Fransico Miranda AB
Caracus Venezuela SVFM

 The first Learjet, model 23, took flight in 1963. Then came the 24, 25, 28 and 29 models, all of which comprised the “20-series”, followed by the “30-series” and the “50-series”. A pilot needed one type rating, LR-JET, on their certificate to be captain on any airplane in these series. Then, the Learjet 60 and later the 40-series were introduced, each requiring their own type rating. The Learjet 45 looks like its predecessors, but the first time I flew one, it flew more like a truck than a Ferrari, like the previous models. However, it is very efficient, and the pilots who fly it regularly, love it. 

I hold two of the three Learjet type ratings, the LR-JET and LR-60. I’ve flown the Lear at over 500 mph, topped 49,000 feet on a test flight, and across the Atlantic. 

Mike Ely, Captain, Learjet.
Winter 1994, Denver Stapleton

I once flew a Lear non-stop coast to coast in three and a half hours. Before take-off, the other pilot and I waited for an hour as technicians in San Diego carefully loaded a rocket guidance system on our Lear. 

They hooked up sensors to detect any possible damage caused by turbulence. A brisk tailwind kicked us all the way to Titusville, Florida where another group was waiting to offload our precious passenger. We were surprised because, unlike the careful loading, it took them just five minutes to rip it out.

The Learjet holds a special place in my logbooks, just like other pilots who’ve been fortunate to fly them.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

March 16, 2021 Tails of Irony

The Liberty Gazette

March 16, 2021

Ely Air Lines

By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Mike: I have plenty more snow-blown tales to tell, but they can wait until next year. Our two weeks of winter seems to be over. Meanwhile, as we hope for a return to normal in airline travel, let’s discuss some do’s and don’ts. In short, do consider whether all your carry-ons are necessary and appropriate, and don’t abuse privileges or take advantage of animals. I’ll explain.

When Mikhail Galin bought a ticket for a flight on Russian airliner Aeroflot, he assumed his cat, Viktor, could ride along on his lap. The pair had a layover in Moscow on their way from Latvia to far eastern Vladivostok where the airline denied cabin seating to Viktor because the cat was too fat. He weighed 22 pounds, and the limit is 17 pounds. But Mikhail was determined to find a way, and with some quick thinking, he concocted a plan. He found a “double,” but one that had been eating fewer snacks than Viktor had. Her name was Phoebe, and she weighed only 15 pounds. Her owners brought her to the airport and loaned her to Mikhail to take to the counter and claim she was Viktor. Once they completed check-in, Phoebe and her people left, and Mikhail and Viktor boarded the plane. Too late to get in trouble, he thought.

They would have pulled it off had Mikhail not bragged on social media. Now Aeroflot was also determined to find a way. The punishment was revocation of Mikhail’s 400,000 air miles. That makes it one expensive seat for the cat. That’s about $4,500 worth of miles, or 333,330.75 Russian rubles. A cat sitter would have been cheaper.

Linda: But when it’s the pet that’s supposed to babysit the owner, an abuse of the privilege can also be costly. 

Without arguing the legitimacy of emotional support animals, many which are lifesavers for people suffering disorders such as combat-induced PTSD, there are times when our fellow two-leggers fail us, and them. A flight from London to Austin was one such time. A planeload of people aboard a Norwegian Airlines airplane were delayed from departing for an hour and a half thanks to a couple of passengers with their “emotional support” French Bulldogs dressed in pink tutus. Ironically, as the dogs boarded, they became distressed. It was clear to the captain, who has the final say on the flight, that this was going to be a problem, so the tutus trotted right back off the plane, their humans with them, under captain’s orders. 

A line has to be drawn somewhere. After all, do you want to share a few intimate hours with a horse or a peacock, trapped together in a shiny metal tube rocketing through the atmosphere? 

On the other hand, Bob Jamison once made an effort to give emotional support to a nine-foot python, at the emotional expense of pilot David Rogers, to return it to its home in Belize, conveniently when Bob and friends planned a fishing trip down there. 

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com 

March 9, 2021 More Snow-Blown Tales

The Liberty Gazette

March 9, 2021

Ely Air Lines

By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Mike: Early flying experiences can leave lasting impressions. Many years ago, I was preparing to fly home after spending a week visiting friends in Boise, Idaho. During preflight, I noted that the temperature was about five degrees and it was snowing lightly. The snow was very dry and not sticking due to how cold it was. The yellow ball of the sun was veiled but visible through low clouds, and a halo surrounded it. Two star-like bright spots (sun dogs) appeared on each side of the ring. Their presence told me there was a high layer of ice crystals, far above where I would be flying. The top of the cloud layer I was going to climb through was reported to be about eight thousand feet. The climb wouldn’t be difficult in the Cessna Turbo Skylane RG.

On my first attempt to taxi to the runway, the ground controller directed me down a taxiway that had not been cleared of snow, thinking it wasn’t very deep, which was a mistake. Turns out, the snow depth was about 18 inches, and once I got into it, I couldn’t turn around or go forward. I shut down the engine and stood in the snow as the ground crew dug me out. Embarrassed, I tossed $20 into their line service coffee fund, hopped in and fired up, determined never make that mistake again. 

This time, the controller directed me down a taxiway that was clear of snow. But a sheet of ice covered it, and with a stiff wind at my side, I had to taxi cockeyed to keep the airplane from sliding into the snow drifts on either side. By the time I reached the runway, I had learned how to sail and ice skate in an airplane. Fortunately, the takeoff was straight into the wind and uneventful.

As expected, I broke out above the clouds and into bright sunshine shortly after leaving the ground. I was flying on an instrument flight plan but wanted to remain clear of the clouds as much as possible on my way to Reno, Nevada, my refueling stop. The desert landscape, white and frozen, lay below multiple cloud layers between me and the ground. I would change altitudes to remain in the clear until shortly before my destination because clouds are wet, and cold clouds have ice.

As I began my approach into Reno at 12,000 feet, I flew into a thick layer of cloud and was immediately pelted by freezing rain. Without hesitation, I advised the controller that I needed to climb to clear and colder air. He cleared me to 16,000 feet. At 15,000’, I came out of the clouds with the airplane wrapped in ice.

We estimated that I landed with over 300 pounds of ice, collected in less than a couple minutes. I broke off the icicle that pointed straight out from the prop spinner. It resembled a 12-inch-long funnel and weighed several pounds. Lessons from that flight have stayed with me ever since.

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com

March 2, 2021 Snow-blown tales

The Liberty Gazette

March 2, 2021

Ely Air Lines

By Mike Ely and Linda Street-Ely

Mike: The recent ice storm was not entirely a surprise to me. Since moving here, I’ve noticed that whenever a hurricane hits nearby, the following winter we get at least a little snow.

The fun part was watching neighborhood kids trying to have snowball fights and skidding along the ice-covered streets, possibly for the first time. It brought back memories of some icy flights I’ve made.  

Once, while on approach to an airport in Pasco, Washington, the air traffic controller gave us a clearance to land while advising, “Only half of the runway is plowed.” The captain and I each raised an eyebrow. Which half of the runway was still covered in snow? The first half? The last? I radioed, “Okay, do you want to inform us as to which half is plowed?” 

With a chuckle, the controller replied, “Oh yeah, I guess that’d be important. The southeast side, the left half.” Meaning we had the full seven-thousand-foot of length to land on, but instead of a 150-foot-wide swath of asphalt, it was now only about 75 feet, with snow piled along both sides. The Learjet’s wingspan was forty feet.

Closer in on the approach, we were able to see the difference in the hue of gray defining the cleared side. After the captain plopped down hard on the crusty-icy surface, he slowed the airplane down well before the end of the runway, which was the only opening in the berm of snow. At five degrees and still snowing heavily, the powdery stuff covered the taxiway. We had to use the taxiway lights sticking up out of it as a guide to stay on the pavement while we taxied to parking. The nose bounced up and down and snow puffs “splashed” off to the side as we crashed through drifts. It felt more like a power boat than a jet.

Years later, I flew a charter out of south Florida after a major blizzard hit the northeast. Our passenger needed to get to a cancer treatment center in Baltimore for surgery, but all the airports around Washington were closed under a heavy blanket of snow. We watched the weather for a window that would allow us to get into an airport in the area. Anticipating one such opportunity, we departed from Fort Lauderdale for Washington Dulles International while arrangements for special ground transport were being made to get our passenger to Baltimore.

The airport opened, but with only one runway cleared. We came out of the clouds a couple miles from the airport in near whiteout conditions. A bright orange Southwest airliner that stood out from the white and gray environment was the only way we could identify it as an airport. We couldn’t even make out the runway, still covered in ice and patchy snow, until we were a half mile from it. The passenger made it to the hospital, and from what I learned later, the operation was a success. 

See you next week with a few more snow-blown tales.  

ElyAirLines.blogspot.com