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Pilot Confessions
How I’ve Tried to Kill Myself Flying Airplanes
(And What I Learned As a Result) by Bill Frank
TOriginally published in COPA Pilot Magazine.
Episode #1 – Fuelishness
The flight was a trip home to Cleveland, MS (KRNV) from KIWS in the Houston area. Flight time at 15,000 feet in my Cessna 340 would be around 2 hours with the expectation of arriving home around 10 p.m. This occurred in the 1980s when weather forecasting was not as accurate as it is with today’s computer-generated modeling. At my destination and in the surrounding area, weather was forecast to be VFR until fog was expected early the following morning. Not wanting to pay the exorbitant prices for fuel in the Houston area (probably a whopping $1.50 a gallon at that time), I planned for 3 hours of fuel to land with a comfortable hour of reserve; more than legal, given the forecast weather. My wife and I departed later than expected, anticipating a new arrival time of midnight. It was a clear, moonless night. Despite some vectoring around the Houston TCA (later Class B), we had a bit of a tailwind in route and fuel did not appear to be an issue.
Enroute Flight Advisory Service was closed for the night, so nearing my destination, I checked weather with Jackson Approach as well as Memphis Center. The report was not good, with widespread low visibility and low ceil- ings due to mist and fog. Definitely not what I was expect- ing. As I descended I could see ground lights below me in the area of my destination and elected to proceed with the VOR A approach, at that time the only one available. In the time it took me to begin the approach, the fog had thickened and ceilings lowered. I proceeded with the missed approach, contacted Memphis Center, and when asked to “say intentions,” I had none. After wasting 20 minutes on an approach that I had no chance of completing, I wasted another 10 minutes deciding where to divert. The decision was ultimately made to proceed to Memphis, 30 minutes away with 30 minutes of estimated fuel left.
The only smart decision I made that night was to de- clare a fuel emergency. It was midnight and Memphis was landing FedEx on Runway 27. As I was coming from the south, I was vectored onto the ILS for Runway 36R. I was given weather of ceiling 200 feet and visibility of half-mile. I kept the autopilot coupled and vaguely remember seeing approach lighting allowing further descent. Seconds later, I saw the runway centerline lighting, clicked the autopilot off, flared and landed with a distinct “thud.” The fuel gages read zero. Shaking, I managed to taxi to the FBO and shut down.
The following morning, I asked that the aircraft be topped
here is an old aviation adage that there are old pilots and bold pilots but no old, bold pilots. There is a ring of truth in that saying. I now qualify as old, and when younger was, at times, certainly bold.
Fortunately, after almost 50 years of flying airplanes, I’ve learned a thing or two, and more than a few times, that learning nearly killed me, and worse, others.
Without claiming any special wisdom, I’d like to share some of my bad decisions with the obvious intention of sharing something that may prevent others from making some of those same mistakes. As with reading accident reports, our nature is to deny that we would ever make those mistakes – until we do. Keep an open mind and avoid learning the hard way.
4 • TWIN & TURBINE / June 2022