From A to B; dotting the i and crossing the t.

Navigation is easy. I wish this was the truth for me but at this stage navigation is difficult, stressful, lot's of time in the chopper getting lost, running close to using all the fuel and ripping holes in my pockets. Ok this isn't entirely true. I'm four "navs" in now and it was really only the latest one that feels like I've taken a step backwards.

The first nav, designated as "nav 1", we flew down to Boddington, a small country town about 100km southeast of Perth. We departed east to the Perth Hills and upon reaching the escarpment we tracked direct for Boddington to the southeast. It was a beautiful flight flying over forested areas, past "Mt Solus"(more like "pimple Solus", WA doesn't really have mountains) and over one of Australia's biggest gold mines. At Boddington we turned the chopper west towards the coast and turned north over a slightly larger town, Pinjarra, inbound for Jandakot. This was 1.9 hours in total.

Nav 2 took us east to the hills again but upon reaching the escarpment we continued travelling east for basically a kink in the road and some silo's, a place called West Dale which I can't really manage calling a town. Over West Dale we turned southwest and had to fly through some smoke as there was a large prescribed burn occuring upstream. The sun shone it's orange colour into the cockpit and the aroma took on the bushfire smell as the visibility dropped to around 5-10km. I found our next turning point, North Bannister (no more than a roadhouse), before commencing our return leg home. This flight was 1.7 hours.

The third navigation flight was nav 1 again but this time I flew with me, myself and I. Yep, this was my longest and furthest solo flight to date. It's an absolutely beautiful moment when you're flying through the atmosphere over the world below all alone. I didn't get lost, I didn't crash or miss a radio call and from this flight the main things that I need to work on is holding the heights and speeds that I plan the flight on. Without the extra body of the instructor the aircraft travels faster for the same power setting so I flew this same flight (that we did initially in 1.9 hours) in 1.5 hours.

This brings me to the latest flight that I flew a few days ago. It was my first flight into controlled airspace to the east of Perth airport where you are literally being dictated what level and heading you must fly by a radio operator due to it being a heavy traffic area (inbound/outbound jets). This added a bit of stress to the flight but I didn't feel too overwhelmed at this point. After exiting controlled airspace I flew on to Northam, one of the larger country towns I've flown to on my navs so far and where we actually intended to land (first time on any nav). I found the township of Northam OK but I couldn't find the airport! I was looking at the map, where it should be and could not see it at all. It was a scary feeling. I told my instructor I couldn't find it and, acting as clueless passenger, he said that neither could he. I had to pull my finger out and try harder. I eventually found it and joined the circuit and landed on this unfamiliar airstrip in a fairly flustered state. It was a Sunday so refuelling wasn't available (of course we knew this before we left so we'd planned to have enough fuel) but generally we'd have refuelled here.

After take off from Northam we departed south toward Dale River airstrip, a grass airstrip to the east of West Dale (from nav 2). I'd seen this airstrip in nav 2 so I knew what to look for on arrival, but when the time clocked over 32 minutes past the hour, the time I'd calculated that we'd be there, I again couldn't find it. I looked for West Dale, the kink in the road and the silos, but to no avail. Eventually I found what I thought was West Dale but it wasn't and as I followed the road along to the northwest I came to the actual West Dale... All very stressful and sobering. We calculated the fuel and had enough to just make it home if we made a dead-straight track for Jandakot. We landed at Jandakot and the low-fuel light flickered on (about 5-10 minutes of fuel left in the tanks). This flight was 2.7 hours! The longest time I've spent in a helicopter to date.

There's been some very big lessons I've learned from all of this. The thing about a flight is there's never too much you can do to prepare yourself for it. Of course I do prepare, but I need to do more. The following describes the basic preparation for a nav flight:

• Draw the route on a map and calculate distance and compass headings. 
• Choose the altitude that you will fly on each leg of the flight taking into account height above the terrain, lower limits of controller airspace and what we term "hemispherical levels" (basically eastbound flights fly at odd thousand + 500ft and westbound at even thousand +500ft in an attempt to minimise collision risks). 
• Check the weather forecasts and make the go/no-go decision based on the weather and cloud base - can you fly the heights you've chosen and still be able to navigate using the ground as a reference? My flights have to be completely visual - not in cloud or low visibility.
• Using the forecast winds calculate ground speed for each leg and hence how long each leg will take. Once you add these up you get the total estimated time of the flight which you can then calculate how much fuel you require. We also take an extra 20 minutes fuel on all flights for the just-in-case scenarios (such as getting lost and taking as long as I did to find where I'm at!).
• If the weight of the aircraft, the people on board and the calculated fuel all come up to (or less than) the maximum take off weight rated for that aircraft then you can continue with the flight plan, if not you may need to chuck a passenger out or look for fuel stops along the route. If you can take more fuel, do so! You can never completely know what will happen once you get up there. As my instructor said, the only time you can have too much fuel is when you're on fire. 
• Once the flight is definitely going ahead, you then must lodge the flight with Airservices Australia so they know what aircraft is flying where, when and how high it will be. This helps manage traffic but also gives them somewhere to look if you don't cancel your SARTIME. You must nominate a SARTIME for each flight, basically a time that you must be back by and if you don't cancel it they will (after trying to call you) assume that you've crashed and send out rescue aircraft along your route.

Once in the aircraft you must manage all of the above: ensuring you're on track; that your groundspeed and time for each route is in the ball park and if not, being revised; that the engine is working as it should be; that you're altitude is what you planned; that the fuel on board is sufficient and if not, taking action to ensure it remains sufficient to land safely at a place where you can get fuel; that you'll be back by your nominated SARTIME and if not amending it in flight on the radio. The radio is another big player, you need to ensure that you're on the right frequency and making the right calls at the right times. For example you need to make a "g'day I'm flying over your little airport" broadcast over any airstrip noted on the map, you need to get clearance to enter controlled airspace prior to entering, etc.

As you can see there's a lot to manage. I feel like I'm finally getting on top of the actual flying of the chopper, but this is a completely seperate skill that must be done whilst flying. Once overhead an area, if you're not completely sure of where you are, it's amazing how much you can convince yourself that that road is this one on the map, i.e. trying to make what you see fit on the map to prove you're not lost. 

Being a good navigator is akin to being a good detective. To be 100% sure that this place ahead is the place on the map requires a number of considerations: 

• I've been flying on this heading since x for this long at this airspeed with the wind from that direction, so maths says I'll be here now. 
• Ok so if I'm here I should see this, that and the other thing. If I do, beautiful. This is the "map to ground" mode. 
• If not, it's "ground to map" mode. 
• To convince yourself that features on the ground are those on the map the detective skills need to be at their sharpest. E.g. I see a road or train track. Flying along it will give you the track of it along the ground by viewing your compass. There's a few towns along it. This town has a creek running through it and the only town with a creek running through it is the one I'm after so it must be this one.

The training continues and we'll continue building and sharpening these skills. It will be nice when I'm feeling confident that I won't get lost out there enough to prove to an examiner that I'm 100% sure of my position and couldn't be swayed to think differently. Until then my dining room table remains barely visible beneath the piles of maps and navigation equipment...

The plethora of maps, measuring equipment, pens and the flight computer explode across the dining room table on a daily routine preparing for the following days flight.

The black line details the route on nav 1 to the southeast of Perth (the yellow blob).