Flight of the V-Tail [v6.0]

FLIGHT OF THE V-TAIL

"Collegeville Unicom, Cessna 1557 Golf, ten miles south, landing Collegeville. Advisories please." "Cessna 1557 Golf, Collegeville. Wind is light and variable out of the West, no reported traffic." "Thank you Collegeville, we'll be landing on runway 27. We'll make traffic calls, 57 Golf."

I had our crack salesman onboard and he liked to get an early start- the clock on the panel read 7:15. We had spent the night in Philadelphia, and departed the Northeast Airport (PNE) barely 15 minutes ago. N1557 Golf, the company Cessna 421B was not in its' familiar high-altitude, cross country, mode as we made the short hop VFR to Collegeville (N10), where an unsuspecting businessman was about to be dazzled by my company's best peddler.

It was a lovely summer morning. The rolling Pennsylvania hills passed 6,000 feet below us as I looked out the front window for the airport. The Jeppesen Airport Directory showed the Collegeville airport as having a single East/West runway of 2,883 feet. A little short for our normal operations, however we were lightly loaded both in fuel and passengers. Jeppesen showed a transmission line crossing in front of the approach end of runway 27, something to watch out for. Using the Pottstown VORTAC, I set the airport in the RNAV unit: 110 degree radial at 6.0 nautical miles. The CDI indicator slews to center and the DME readout shows the field to be 8 miles off of the nose.

The airport appears ahead of us in real life just as the avionics said it would. "Collegeville Traffic, Cessna 57 Golf is 5 miles South. We'll

be crossing mid-field and entering a left downwind for runway 27, Collegeville." I descend to the traffic pattern altitude of 1,200 feet and enter the downwind leg making a traffic call on Unicom. The transmission lines extend into the approach plane so that the runway has a displaced threshold painted on it. There is a low fog bank in the valley at the end of the runway, but it will not interfere with flight operations. "Collegeville Traffic, Cessna 57 Golf is on a three mile final, Collegeville." The landing checklist is complete, "Fasten seat belts" and "No smoking" signs are lit, the cabin pressure has been brought up 150 feet- the difference between Philadelphia and our landing airport.

A last check for "three green", over the transmission lines, drop the flaps to the final 45 degree notch, and we touch down on the hard surface runway. "Collegeville Traffic, Cessna 57 Golf is on the ground and clear of the runway, Collegeville." We taxi to the ramp and shut down. My passenger offers to take me along, but I decline. I enjoyed being out at airports, especially small ones. He departs in his rental car, and I check with the FBO office to let them know that I won't need any services, and to make certain that the location I parked the aircraft at will not be in their way.
I go back to 57 Golf and enter the cabin. The morning newspaper is there. I pour a cup of coffee from the ship's bar and grab a donut from the bag that I had placed on board earlier. I settle into one of the chairs in the cabin, pull out the table and relax while going through all the news that's fit to print.

About half of an hour later I hear the sound of an aircraft passing over the field and go outside to observe. It is a V-tail Beechcraft Bonanza and he has entered a left downwind for runway 27. Actually, it is a _close_ downwind. In fact, too close, and the flight instructor in me becomes curious as to how the planes' driver will compensate for this. He'll either have to widen out his downwind leg, or do a button hook on final to compensate for his close proximity to the runway, I decide.The downwind pattern doesn't change, and my interest increases. Now he'll have to do a button hook on final. (A "button hook" is a maneuver where the aircraft is flown through the final approach course and then brought back in with a tight turn to final.) It can be a risky low-altitude maneuver leading to a stall if the pilot is not careful. This is especially true in the Bonanza, what with its' limited elevator authority due to the distinctive V-tail design. An old airport sage in Demopolis, Alabama once told me: "Down here son, there's two things we don't trust. A (insert minority member here) in a loggin truck, and a doctor in a Bonanza."

The Bonanza goes through the final course and enters the button hook to return to final. I watch in fascination as the nose pitches up in the turn. "This isn't good." I tell myself. The Bonanza suddenly pitches downward and descends rapidly toward the ground, disappearing below the runway into the valley that is off of the approach end. I wait for it to reappear.

It doesn't.

I wait, fully expecting to see the aircraft rising up at full power, clawing for altitude.

It doesn't.

OK, if he crashed there will be a fire ball.

There isn't.

OK, I'll hear a crashing sound.

I don't.

Nothing, just the sound of birds singing on this warm summer morning. I look across the ramp and see mechanics and other personnel walking around, just doing their thing. Nothing abnormal.

I feel like I've entered the Twilight Zone.

I keep looking towards the approach end of runway 27 as I walk up to the hangar. There is a mechanic there and I ask him if he or anyone had heard a plane crash. "No, what are you talking about?" "Well, I think I just saw a plane go down on the approach to the runway." "Are you sure?" "Well yeah. I just watched him go down, and he never reappeared." He yells over to another mechanic to call for an ambulance, grabs a fire extinguisher, and we run to his car. He drives down the road that parallels the runway. There is a dirt road that turns off to the left, towards the approach path to the runway. He turns down it and we reach a small knoll that overlooks the valley that is off of the runway approach. The fog that I observed before is still there but it has dissipated somewhat.

We both get out of the car and look around.

Nothing.

No smoke, no fire- and no airplane.

"There it is!" He cries out, pointing down the valley. I finally see it lying down on the ground, slightly obscured by the misty fog. He says that he'll go back to direct the ambulance as they will have a difficult time finding the place. I take the fire extinguisher and tell him that I'll go down to the crash site to await them. I run down the hill noting that it is gentle enough so that the ambulance will be able to make it down to the site.

The Bonanza had pancaked in, impacting with a slight nose down attitude. The engine and both wings had been torn off. As I approached I could see the passengers. There were three of them and they were all outside of the aircraft. When the aircraft struck the ground there must have been some sideways motion as their bodies literally made a hole in the side of the fuselage and they ended up outside of the aircraft on the ground.

All of them were shoe-less. They had "exited" with such force that they left their shoes in the aircraft.

They were all alive!

One fellow was wondering around in shock, slowly walking in a circle. I figured that he would be OK until the ambulance arrived. The second and

third passengers were still strapped into the chairs that they took along with them through the side of the Beechcraft. I glanced inside and saw no other people. The first passenger I went to seemed to be breathing alright. There was no bleeding visible. He was unconscious. I put him in the "he can wait until the ambulance arrives" catagory. The third passenger was softly moaning, apparently slowly gaining consciousness as he struggled to release his seatbelt. His shirt was bloody in the chest area- it was the pilot. He had tangled with the control wheel as his body was thrown through the side of the aircraft.Gosh, I sure wished that I had paid a little more attention during those first aid classes that I went to. He was mumbling now as I eased him out of the chair and got him flat on the ground. I took off my shirt and my tee shirt, using my tee shirt for a compress on his bleeding chest.

Where the hell is that ambulance?

God, I feel so inadequate!

He struggles to get up, and I press on his shoulders to hold him down. Finally I hear some shouting voices. It's the mechanic and the ambulance crew. They figure out a way for the ambulance to get down to the site. In short order the injured parties are loaded up and taken away. I go over to the aircraft and look inside- it's a mess. There they are, three pairs of shoes, left there when their owners made their sudden departure.

The mechanic and I drive back to the FBO. I write out a witness report and leave it with them to file with the FAA if needed. I also get the telephone number for the local hospital where the injured were taken.

We left later in the day for Minneapolis making an intermediate fuel stop. The next day I called the hospital in Pennsylvania. They were all going to make it. The pilot was the worst off with several broken ribs.

It's amazing what the human body can endure.

31 October, 1999

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