As compared to any airplane requiring a type rating, most Single-Engine Turbo-Props (SETPs) are known for smooth, reliable power, being able to operate out of smaller airstrips while still being able to cruise speedily, having easy operating characteristics, and (arguably) being somewhat easy on the pocketbook. The SETP fleet is composed of solid airplanes that outright perform. Owners and pilots sing the praises of many of the advantages of the SETP. However, there are some unsung SETP advantages that are quite often overlooked by those who are looking to make the leap upwards to a really big turboprop or to a jet or to virtually any airplane requiring a type rating.
Unsung? You bet. There are some truly huge advantages to operating airplanes in the owner-flown, non-jet, non-type-rated world. But, some of those advantages are rarely appreciated because most of us don’t know how laborious and expensive it is to move up to the type-rated world. Aspiring to move up beyond your PA-46T or TBM? You should consider some of the lesser-appreciated considerations that make the SETP world so wonderful, and maybe you will reconsider moving up.
Before we explore those lesser appreciated consid-erations, the preliminary question is whether you desire to fly something bigger, better, faster, or stronger…and the answer invariably is, “of course I do!” We are a community filled with overachieving Type-A personalities who continually seek the next great adventure and the next challenge to conquer. Save for the rare exceptions, the opportunity to own and fly a turbine does not present itself without the prerequisite of personal success. And with that success comes aspirations.
I am a student of entrepreneurship and small business strategy. Because of that, I love the owners of SETPs. Few SETP owners are trust fund babies. I would venture to say that of the hundreds of pilots each year that I train year over year, 99% of them are first-generation successful guys and gals who ventured into the market with an idea, a specific skill, or a credential and won through a combination of determination, self-confidence, and leadership. But, each remembers the days when they ate oatmeal twice a day because that’s all they could afford. They remember rolling their windows up and down with a crank in their vehicle. They probably drove that piece-of-crap truck for way too many years. They still turn off lights when they enter or leave a room, and they remember the actual date when they paid off their mortgage.
Most SETP owners earned their money and are very skilled at quickly processing information, assessing value, and appreciating the benefits of efficiency. If you are reading this, you are, by definition, efficiency-minded. You know how to extract the last drop from the fruit, and this is a good thing.
I receive many phone calls every day (and I cannot thank my clients enough for making my phone ring!!) from people who have achieved the level of success where they now wish to throw down seven digits to buy a magic carpet to take them to their desired destinations. They overcame the odds for decades, making small deposits to this day on a daily basis. These small deposits consist of a combination of steady management of their finances, regular flying and the habitual advancement of their aviation credentials. They have been dreaming of the day they can responsibly suck, squeeze, bang, and blow with gusto.
But all of this leads to the critical questions. Moving up is natural inclination for most people, but is there a place where you should step off the “move up” train? Is there a place where enough is enough? Should you move into the jet world or stay in the SETP world?
One can move up too far, reaching beyond your financial comfort or your aviation ability. And, it is not uncommon for the owner-pilot to recognize the advantages of the SETP world after having “stepped-up”. Some move up to the jet world and some then return.
I estimate that 80% of my calls from clients are in relation to them contemplating the sale of their existing airplane to “move up” in aviation. That means the remaining 20% of my calls are from someone who wants to move down. And, invariably, the reason they want to move down is because they have experienced the pitfalls of moving past the SETP world into the jet world and/or the type rating world — and the pitfalls ate their lunch.
The bottom line is that a jet is a very costly asset to own and operate. The maintenance cost jump from a SETP to a jet is significant – I would even venture to go as far as to say that it is exponential. Let that sink in. “Exponential” is a big impact word. Jets, especially if there are two jet engines on that airplane, will get you there faster at higher altitudes – but you will pay a steep price for that incremental speed and altitude.
Speed is truly an exponential consideration. Aerodynamically speaking, you are paying to overcome parasite drag. Parasite drag (the specific types being interference drag, skin friction drag, and form drag) doesn’t provide you anything positive in return. It is simply the cost of hurling an object through the air, and the penalty goes up exponentially with increased speed. It is named appropriately, as it attaches itself to your wallet and consumes. Speed is sexy, alluring, and really nice when you have a long way to go…but it is exponentially expensive.
If you own a plane and think before you start the engine, “This is going to cost me a lot!” you do not have a healthy relationship with that plane. You want to own an airplane where you don’t really think about the cost of operation. You want to own an airplane where you don’t mind walking up to the FBO fuel counter and saying, “What’s the damage?” Almost without exception, there is a significant difference between the cost of a fill up in a SETP and anything with a type rating. Unsung reason number one that SETPs are great…they really are an efficient way to burn jet fuel.
But wait…there’s more potential unpleasantries to jet ownership. If you are flying a jet, you must earn a type rating. And type ratings are not handed out to the highest bidder. You can’t (or should not be able to) buy a type rating. You must earn a type rating. To earn a type rating, you must take a practical test, a checkride. This is not just a training event that ends with a training certificate; this is an actual opportunity to fail. You’ll endure a 10 to 20-day initial training course, receive an endorsement by a CFI, and take a checkride with a Designated Pilot Examiner (DPE) who is well-versed in failing those who don’t meet ACS standards.
A DPE doesn’t care if you pass or fail. They are thick-skinned alligators who can say “no” to their mothers, fail their best friend, and smile and hand out a pink slip to anyone who “has a bad day” in the cockpit. And you’ll pay a princely sum for the pleasure of having a DPE show up for your big day. They are in high demand and are at the top of their game. I’m one of those DPEs…I am a DPE who can issue type ratings for the Beechcraft King Air 3XX series and the Embraer 120, and I have failed many applicants who didn’t realize that a type rating is a different animal. Remember, all type rating check rides must be passed at the ATP (Airline Transport Pilot) level with more narrow standards, even if the pilot is a Private or Commercial pilot applicant. And financial woe to the person who fails the checkride. Setting aside the embarrassment and the resultant logistical nightmare to reschedule, the costs soar because the additional simulator and training are very costly.
And you ask, “Simulator”? Yes, a real simulator. Not an Advanced Aviation Training Device (AATD) like you may have experienced in the PA-46 and TBM world. In the PA-46 and TBM AATDs are not useful for anything related to interfacing with the ground (no takeoff or landing practice should occur), the control forces (the “feel” of the controls) are not like a real airplane, and the experience is a loose version of flying. An AATD costs about $400k to buy and nearly nothing to operate. A full-motion Level-D simulator is what is found in the jet world, and they cost upwards of $35 million to purchase, and they have a maintenance team to keep them running. There’ll never be a Level-D simulator in the PA46 or TBM world because it is just too expensive. But, in the jet world, you will receive training in a Level-D simulator and help them pay for their return on investment (ROI) for that $35 million simulator. Suffice it to say that real simulator training is expensive, super expensive.
On top of that, simulator training is controlled by a few people. Want a Cirrus Jet? You’ll go to their factory training and take a checkride with their DPEs and pay for every bit of it. There’s no other option; they control the cost and your expenses. Want a Phenom jet? You will go to one of the few available Phenom simulators for training, costing you nearly $50k for the type rating. Ditto for nearly every other jet that you might consider purchasing. And, then, you’ll get to pay for mentor hours because this will be your first type rating, and the insurance company will want a credentialed CFI to sit in the right seat with you for 25-50 hours.
“Mentor training on top of the $50,000 simulator training?” you may ask. Yep, in the jet world, “initial training” is literally just that, the beginning. Jets fly faster, and the mentor training happens slower. You’ll get to not only pay that mentor for the mentor’s time but also for the mentor’s hotel, food, and logistics while you travel about for the first 3-6 months of your ownership of the jet. The financial “parasite drag” will have a firm attachment to your wallet by this time. You may have been successful by keeping your worst nightmare of an annual under wraps, but I assure you that you’ll not be able to keep your spouse from noticing the jet-powered expenditure burn rate at this point in your aviation career.
Staying on the topic of training, we must not overlook the significance of a 61.58 checkride. Yup…newbies to the jet world usually don’t appreciate the rigor of a 61.58 checkride. FAR 61.58 details that a jet pilot will take a checkride each year with an examiner who can administer a 61.58 checkride. Every year you operate a jet, you take a checkride, not just a training event. You’ll spend 3-5 days at the simulator facility doing ground and flight training, and then you’ll take a checkride with an examiner. It should not be confused as a “gimme checkride,” where you are subject to a checkride with a highly likely “pass” at the end of the training. In the SETP world, you go to “recurrent training,” where the requirements for obtaining the completion certificate are not anywhere comparable to the rigor of passing a checkride. It takes a day or two in the SETP world to complete recurrent training, and it doesn’t culminate in a checkride. In the jet world, you’ll spend five times the cost and five times the time, and then you get evaluated. The 61.58 checkride is a significant event with an opportunity to fail.
How do you pay for those jet engines? In the jet world, virtually every engine is on an “engine program” where you’ll pay several hundred dollars “by the hour” for your engines. At the end of each month, you’ll tally up the hours on your airplane and send a check to the company that manages the program on your engines. It will be optional, arguably, but 90+% of the jet world is “on programs” because the cost of a FOD incident or a hot start in the jet world is very expensive. The “jet culture” is to have engine programs.
You may ask, “Are the engine management companies making money on the engine programs?” Of course, they are! You could easily manage the operation and maintenance of your engines cheaply without a program. Still, almost no one does because the psychology in the jet world is so different from that of the turbo-prop world. In the jet world, a jet that “is not on programs” is significantly discounted by the marketplace because the buyers invariably want the risk-free assurance that the engines are OK. In the turboprop world, almost no engines are on programs. A turboprop on an engine program does not receive comparable credit from the marketplace because almost no one in the turboprop world values the engine programs. If you move to the jet world, you will quickly learn about pay-by-the-hour programs.
This marketplace difference translates into the jet world being significantly more expensive because you will pay as you go, feeling the cost of every flight hour at the end of each month. To be fair, the engine programs do provide a modicum of risk mitigation in case something happens to an engine. There are some wonderful stories where an engine ingested a bird or had an internal compressor problem, and the engine program fixed the problem quickly “for free.” But, those stories are few and far between compared to the jet pilots who come running back to the turboprop world reporting how the engine program cost sucked the life out of the fun of flying.
Although there are popular jets that are single-pilot approved, that doesn’t mean you’ll fly your flights single-pilot as an owner-flown pilot. Insurance companies dominate (or control) the aviation market, and unless you are a highly trained, highly experienced, more youthful pilot, you may not be approved for single-pilot operations. Or, you might be approved for single-pilot operations, but your coverage may be decreased, your premiums increased dramatically, or both. Many pilots enter the jet world only to find out that they age out quickly and then discover that the insurance companies want them to fly dual-pilot. In such circumstances, the owner is left with the option of moving down to a turboprop, reducing coverage, self-insuring, or paying the huge financial costs to have a second pilot onboard. The actual ceiling of a jet is much higher than a turboprop, but the proverbial “ceiling” for a jet pilot is lower than that of a turboprop pilot.
So, jets are sexy, fast, cool, and they sometimes fly over the weather. But, they are expensive to feed, expensive to operate, and require extensive training and evaluation. Is it worth it for you? Maybe. To some people, the jet is a bucket-list item, something they’ve always wanted to do. If you are that person and you have the financial means to make it happen, then knock yourself out and go buy a jet.
Having said all of that, I’ll tell you of a veteran space shuttle pilot friend of mine. When he comes to train with me, we always end up flying my Porterfield (65HP antique airplane), a Super Cub, or one of the smaller niche airplanes that invariably are at my airport, bypassing the jet-fuel-burning, fast-and-fancy airplanes that are also in the hangar. We agree that “flying is flying is flying” and that the joy of flying is what is best, and any airplane scratches that itch. If you fly the space shuttle long enough, it can get boring, too. In fact, flying is not supposed to be exciting in the sense of a roller coaster at an amusement park. It is supposed to be exhilarating in the challenge of doing it well, of flying with precision, and just about any old airplane will work to achieve such lofty goals.
Flying a new airplane should be fun and exciting and exhilarating at first, but that excitement will eventually wane. Flying at FL410 and doing 350 KTAS is neat, but you never hear of jet pilots really boasting of joining the “400 MPH club” or the “500 MPH club” once they are past the rookie stage of jet flying. Cruising at such speeds is not exhilarating because it is happening eight miles up in the sky, and the world doesn’t appear to be moving very fast from such heights. Your senses are not tantalized. The flashiness and speed of a jet will be fun for a little while, and then it is nothing more than flying. At that point, you may be left with an empty wallet and only a few cool stories to tell your grandkids.
So, if you sell your SETP and buy a jet, there is a significant chance that you will at some point look back fondly at your SETP experience, longing for the days when a fill-up cost less than $1000, and for recurrent training where you actually got to fly an airplane with a world-class CFI in a non-evaluative scenario, and you’ll be reminded of your glory days when you could land at the short strip next to the golf course.
If you’re considering moving up to a jet, I encourage you to consider the M700 or the TBM960. Either of those rockets will cruise over 300KTAS, carry four people and bags from any state in the center of the union to the farthest corners of the continental USA, and impress anyone who knows how to do math. You can take off from Kansas on any given day, and your range rings on the G3000 will encompass all of the 48 continental states. Either are wonderful airplanes with a panel better than most jets, and they are the perfect airplanes for a person who looks over the fence and concludes that the grass possibly looks greener in the jet world.
I’d argue that that jet-grass may not be so green. But if it is indeed greener, it is so only because of the immense amount of fertilizer required to make it so. Fertilizer is expensive. Choose wisely.
