The rain dance

The day after my first solo the heavens opened up with shower after shower. Once the first big shower passed through there appeared to be a gap on the radar long enough for an hour of flying so we got the chopper ready and lifted into a circuit. Once airborne we got a clearer view of the state of the atmosphere. Areas of low cloud and drizzle were quickly approaching the airport and so we returned to the hanger and called it a day. The thing about drizzle is, because it is a smaller droplet it doesn't reflect as significant a return beam to the weather radar. Hence, since the radar that we were looking at had either very weak echoes or none at all, we were coached into a false sense of security. However drizzle can significantly reduce visibility for the pilot, not to mention the low cloud often associated with this weather and droplets on the cockpit window ruins the view further. Believe it or not the downwash from the main rotor blades doesn't blow droplets away (!) but enough forward speed can.

The following day was worse; showers persisting and very gusty winds extended over much of southwestern WA. Even though there were gaps in the showers the gusty winds were enough to put a hold on my solo flying. Since I am very early on with my solo flying conditions need to be goldilocks (not too hot and not too cold, just right). More specifically; light winds, clear conditions with no weather (showers, thunderstorms, fog) and no low cloud. Not only does it need to be good for me, but since I drop my instructor at the helicopter training area (a designated part of the aerodrome for chopper operations) to observe my flying where there isn't shelter from the elements, it's not really in my best interest if they're getting rained on. So in contrast to days prior when I could go fly with the instructor in some of these conditions as he could take over if things weren't pretty, my flying is now heavily dependent on these conditions.

It was the third day after my first solo when the showers eased, the winds stepped back to a 12kt S/SW'ly breeze and cloud height was above about 3000 feet. I did a check flight with my instructor before dropping him off on the now-dry grass and continued with my solo circuits. Each circuit is different at this stage, I'm aiming to stitch all of the different parts together seamlessly but at the moment it still feels untidy. This is what the practice is for though. Eventually I will be at a solo standard where I will take off and land back at the hanger, getting myself over to the helicopter training area and back solo.

I'm also lucky with the Rotorvation hanger sandwiched between the police airwing and the rescue helicopter hangers so every now and then I get a glimpse of some pretty beautiful, albeit noisy, machines (check out the video of the RAC chopper lifting off below - future Jonno!).

The police airwing Dauphin looking epic from head on.

The RAC rescue helicopter taking off. This is a Bell 412 twin engine aircraft.

At one with the sky

The past few weeks have been getting me ready for today; ensuring that I can operate the machine in all stages of flight, that I could put it on the ground in the event of an engine failure, that I would know how to react if that light came on or if that gauge showed something erroneous, and of course to ensure that all of my written tests and questions in my student handbook have been completed and marked. With the massive checklist all signed off I was technically ready to go solo today and as such woke early with anticipation.

During normal flying procedures of circuits and hovering my instructor asked me to land the aircraft. He then proposed the question I've been wanting to hear my whole life; "are you happy to fly this machine solo?". Well, the photo's say it all - he sneakily took a few shots whilst I was busy doing a turn in the hover. The moment I took off into a hover the thought of "holy shit I literally have complete control over this and have to have complete control over this if I want to put it back on the ground in one piece" entered my head. This soon wore off as I did a clearing turn; literally a turn in the hover to ensure that there are no other aircraft around prior to taking off. 

I then went on to do about ten circuits in a row; a racetrack style course constituent of a take off, a 180 degree climbing turn, levelling off at about 700 feet above ground level, a 180 degree descending turn and landing back at the same place. Clearing turn, repeat. It was the first circuit when the reality of the situation hit me that I'm literally flying this completely without help. The instructor generally sits next to you with their hands near or on the controls and I've never been absolutely sure that they're not helping a bit with this descent or that turn. It's weird, I reflected with my instructor after the flight that it felt like I had much clearer thought and more time to think without an instructor telling you all of these stories the whole time whilst you're trying to remember what you have to do to fly. However it was by about the third circuit when I became aware of my own conscience coming in with an instructor-like voice "watch your speed Jonno, don't over-boost the engine, rate of descent is a little high, balance the aircraft, look at the windsock, this is a beautiful descent, stop waggling the cyclic!".

It's a very sobering thought when you go to look past your instructor in the left seat whilst on the lookout for other traffic and the seat's empty. It very quickly requires you to be absolutely aware of the aircraft (it's speed, height, attitude), the engine (temperatures, pressures, RPM, remaining fuel and therefore time in the air), other traffic (Jandakot is one of, if not the busiest, airports in Australia in terms of aircraft take offs and landings and a lot of them are other student pilots new to flying), radio traffic, birds, etc. It's been a very steep learning curve to date and I don't see it plateauing any time soon. Loads of fun though:) As can be seen in the photos below, the weather was on my side, mostly sunny day with a 10kt N/NE'ly breeze over the airport. Winds and inclement weather are set to increase over the next few days so the solo flying will be tested further yet.

What happens when the engine quits in a chopper?

When I used to tell people that I wanted to learn how to fly a helicopter they would say one of two things, and sometimes both. The first was something along the lines of "cool/awesome/sweet as bro" or any other excited exclamations. The second is "aren't you scared of falling out of the sky like a brick if the engine quits?" The answer to this question is simply "no".

If and when the engine quits in a chopper you do have a very short window to react before the RPM of the main rotor blades get dangerously low, and by this I mean the result could be catastrophic. However once you enter the "autorotation" ("auto" for short cos we're lazy 'er in oz) I'd rather be in a chopper than a plane if the engine spits it. 

Imaging the engine goes in a helicopter and you start to descend. Now, if you set the machine up properly the airflow that is now moving up through the rotating blades is like wind for a windmill. This means that as you descend, the airflow blows the rotor blades around to keep them spinning (hence the name autorotation), ensuring the rotor RPM remains where it should. You then choose a landing spot and as you approach the ground you can use the spinning blades to slow down the rate of decent and even stop the airspeed. This means a heli can land in a car park, on the beach, between trees, in a backyard, etc. whereas an aeroplane has to land on a long, generally flat and hard surface if it's engine was to stop.

Over the past few lessons I've been learning how to do running take offs and landings (dragging the skids along the ground), used if you are power limited but the landings are good practice for autorotations since you may still have some speed when you make it to the ground. I've also been learning "quickstops" which are essentially all in the name: you have forward speed, generally level and you bring the heli to a hover ASAP. This is good training for the coordination required in the auto.

The weather this week has been touch and go with passing showers, the odd thunderstorm and gusty winds at times. It has been good to get experience in real world weather, with larger inputs required on all controls and more to think about whilst in the ever changing fluid of the atmosphere. The hanger of Rotorvation is over the road to the police airwing hanger, hence the photos of the machine that I want to fly in one day :) The Airbus helicopters dauphin (french for dolphin due to the shape of the body) has a weather radar in the nose of the aircraft to help detect showers and thunderstorms ahead! My kind of chopper!

WA Police Airwing Dauphin helicopter

Another storm roles in from the coast

Circuits - tying it all together

Over the past few days we've been practicing emergencies in the hover, i.e. what to do if and when the engine quits during hovering or taxing. We then "transitioned" to transitions, i.e. initiating an acceleration along the ground to get more air moving over the blades. As you build up speed, the increase in flow over the blades generates what is termed "translational lift", similar to an aeroplane getting to a similar speed along the runway prior to lift off. For us in the 22 it's about 40 knots that we require before beginning the climb out at maximum power.

Since I've now learnt how to hover, transition, climb, turn, level off, do pre-landing checks, descend and transition back into a hover, everything is now place to do a circuit which essential ties it all in together in about 2 minutes. It's a very busy 2 minutes at this stage whilst I have to consciously think about everything I'm doing but as they say, practice makes perfect. We've been doing a tonne of circuits lately which has been good; I can see areas that I need to concentrate on more and it keeps everything from previous lessons nice and fresh.

I've also been learning steep take-offs and approaches, ideal for getting into tighter spots, and tomorrow we'll be doing vertical take-offs and landings. This is the sort of flying that reminds me I'm in a chopper and not a plane, this and hovering :) When the atmospheric conditions are right; not too hot or the atmospheric pressure is not too low, or we're not trying to fly at too high an elevation (essentially anything that will thin the air out) the helicopter performance can allow for some pretty cool stuff. To haul the weight of the chopper ~400kg, fuel and two normal sized adults vertically up into a fluid so thin you can wave your hand through it without noticeable resistance is damn mind boggling if you put your mind to it. But it does, and it is awesome!

The "text-book" circuit

The main rotor assembly. You don't want that top bolt to fail!

The nil-wind pilot

The breeze had been up since the end of last week and over the weekend. Even though it was only really 10-15 knots, trying to learn to hover in these conditions made everything very difficult because it is that extra element that must always be considered since it is always trying to move you away from the position you're aiming to hold. It can also help generate lift and get under the blades to try roll the machine. Today however the wind was variable to about 5 knots, very light. I was holding a good hover, was able to demonstrate "spot turns" (turns around the mast), turns around the nose, and a shaky turn around the tail.

Putting the machine on the ground and lifting off into a hover is also a skill that needs incredible finesse. You must be flying the aircraft before lift off, and you must fly the aircraft all the way to the ground. This means you're controlling it's position on the ground as if it were in the air so that when you become "light on the skids" (prior to lift off or just after touch down) you won't roll or catch on something on the ground - very dangerous! I started feeling more comfortable with these towards the end of the lesson.

Taxiing in a helicopter is done at a slow to fast walking pace forwards, or slow walking pace in any other direction. I was all over the place with this initially but again today's lack of wind showed me that neural pathways are being formed and the skill is becoming a motor skill. Of course when the wind decides to return I'll have to tackle the extra workload but the progress I've made was evident today. The next few lessons will focus on emergencies in the hover, i.e. engine failure or loss of tail rotor in the hover/taxi which are generally demonstrated with the skids about 5 feet off the ground. Having a failure so close to the ground doesn't leave much time to react so it's a matter of becoming familiar with the process and practicing over and over again to make it an ingrained reaction. Once familiar with the emergency procedures I'll be learning how to transition the helicopter from a hover into forward flight for take off.

I spent half of the day today in the hanger with the engineers who were pulling one of the machines apart for it's 100 hourly inspection, a significant routine inspection. It's good to see the different parts and how everything is connected and what their roles are. The more one knows about the machine they're flying the safer they'll be if something goes wrong.

R22 Cockpit and instrument panel

The grind of the hover

Three days in and I'm learning how to hover the aircraft. With straight and level flight, climbing/descending and turning whilst level/climbing/descending covered over previous days, we flew a couple of hours today trying the grasp the most difficult skill in all of my aviation training.

About seven to eight years ago I undertook my private fixed-wing pilots licence that I chipped away at when I could afford it. On a student budget, this allowed a flight lesson about once every week or two. The amount of time it took each lesson to familiarise myself with flight training inevitably stretched the training out longer than it needed to be. So as a lesson learned the hard way, I've approached my chopper license differently by getting the theory subjects out of the way before my flying, and taking time off work so as to fly every day. Yes, things are sinking in, but flying training is incredibly demanding on the brain. There are a lot of new motor skills and procedures to learn and today we attempted the hardest manoeuvre I've ever encountered on an aircraft.

To hover the aircraft, you have to ensure that it doesn't sink or lift (using the "collective"), doesn't yaw or twist left or right (with the pedals which control the tail rotor), and doesn't swing all over the place or move in any direction across the ground (using the "cyclic" or joystick-looking device). Left to itself, a helicopter is unstable and will crash whereas an aeroplane can be trimmed and glide hands free, therefore you must have hands-on control of the helicopter at all times. Since the chopper is a highly sensitive machine, all control inputs have to not only be extremely slight but must pre-empt what is going to happen next. I did manage to hover for short periods but after two hours of this my brain is nothing short of fried.

The picture below was taken this morning. It was a beautiful day with high cloud about and a slight easterly wind over the airport. Nil wind provides the best opportunity for learning the hover but since I'll have to be able to hover in all wind situations it was good to have a breeze today. The instructors keep saying that taking a while to nail the hover is normal so hopefully after some time for everything to sink into the brain it becomes a little bit easier at lift off tomorrow!

First day...

I barely slept last night with the excitement and anticipation that is felt at the beginning of a lifelong dream. Today I commenced the practical side of my license. After balancing study, work and a life on the side for the past year, the next 2 months off work are a welcome reward to focus on balancing the machine itself. I arrived at 07:30 at the hanger and it was straight to the chopper for the pre-flight checks. It was a damn cold morning (meteorologically correct term) and the chopper was colder still.

Today was more theory than flying (1.1 hours flight time logged) but the instructor was adamant that as the lessons become more familiar they tend to streamline toward tipping the scales the other way. Regardless, when we lifted onto the "cushion of air" in the hover and took flight for the training area I was reminded that this is going to be a hell of a lot of fun and incredibly rewarding.

The majority of the training is going to be done in the Robinson 22 (R22), a two seat helicopter predominantly used for training, mustering or private pilots. The R22 (pictured below) is a nimble yet difficult machine to master and the majority of the pilots I've spoken to suggest that if you can learn to fly this machine, you can fly any rotary aircraft. These pictures were taken after the flight, i.e. after descending from cloud 9 :)