How I Became an Aviator 
Comments Off on Chapter 7. An Extra Bad Day Chapter 7. An Extra Bad Day
Like everyone, we have our bad days. One of my worst was about to happen. My solo cross-countries had gone extraordinarily well. Six days following my second solo cross-country the unimaginable would happen. Maybe it’s not so unimaginable now — it seemed so then.The day was August 12, 1966. I was nineteen. That morning I had taken my final Progress Check with Chief Instructor, Paul Pierce. He wrote in my logbook, “Approved”. It was a 30 minute flight. It was the second to the longest Progress Check that I would take while training with Tom as my instructor. My first Progress Check with Paul lasted 15 minutes in the air with Paul. This would be the shortest Progress Check that I would ever personally experience or even hear of. My second Progress Check with Paul lasted 1.1 hours which would be a more respectable amount of time for a flight to evaluate a pilot’s flying ability. That’s the Progress Check where he made all the notes in the back of my logbook which we looked at earlier — few of them very good though I was approved then too.So my third and final Progress Check with Mr. Pierce was “approved” though it lasted only 30 minutes. Either I was really good — or Mr. Pierce was super good at his job — or he was in a hurry to get on to something else? I truly don’t know what the deal was with Mr. Pierce and my stage checks.Following my stage check, I met with my instructor. Tom told me I was ready for my checkride which was news to me. The check ride for my Private Pilot Certification was a very big deal. I was surprised that I was being declared to be ready for this major event. Being young, I was just following orders and doing what I was told to do. This day had started out bad and it was getting ready get worse.
I didn’t mention it yet but the reason this day started out bad had to do with my mom and step-dad I was without my own car at the time so I had to bum a ride to the Monterey Airport for this very big day. I was still without my own can but I was taking flying lessons — figure that? Being in the presence of my mom and step-dad was indescribably depressing and embarrassing — more about that later.
I began preparing to depart Monterey for my check ride. I didn’t have my own navigation log sheets or a flight computer — or a course plotter. I asked, Tom, “Do you have a computer, plotter and navigation log that I can take with me for my check ride? Tom told me, “They will give you one when you get over there.” I didn’t like the sound of that but was still following my orders.
“Over there” was Salinas, California. I was supposed to fly to Salinas and report to a DPE (Designated Pilot Examiner) named Jack Jella.
My solo flight to Salinas went well. I flew there in a nice Cessna 150, N3080X. I parked the Cessna and walked in to the Air Trails Terminal. I was feeling the gravity of what I was in for over the next few hours. But I was marching forward courageously into the task at hand.
I don’t remember a particularly warm reception when I walked into Air Trails. I told someone I was there to take a check ride with Jack Jella and they showed me to him. Jack looked like a nice enough guy. He was wearing some dark-colored slacks and a white shirt. I seem to recall him wearing a tie also. I saw nothing outstanding about his appearance nor how he greeted me. His appearance and our meeting all seemed quite bland.
Jack immediately began briefing me for the check ride. He gave me a cross-country flight to plan. Receiving my cross-country assignment necessitated that I ask the examiner for a navigation log. He looked surprised with my request but recovered quickly at the unusual request and got me a navigation log. When I completed the cross-country navigation planning, we sat down for the oral exam portion of the check ride. When I managed to pass the oral and we headed out to fly.
The wind had picked up by the time the Examiner and I taxied out to fly. Mr. Jella seemed to simply relax as I did all the handling of the aircraft. The ailerons were wanting to flop around due to the stronger winds that had kicked up while I was being grilled in the oral exam portion of the check-ride. The yoke broke loose from my grip a couple of times as I was multi-tasking in the cockpit during the taxi out and positioning the Cessna into the run-up area. I felt bad about letting that happen. Mr. Jella didn’t seem to mind though I knew he was noticing everything that was going on and how I was handling all of the aircraft control responsibilities including those on the ground.What did surprise me during taxi was — well, the Examiner spent quite a bit of time picking his nose. And he did so rather aggressively. I acted like I didn’t notice though I couldn’t help but notice. I wondered why he would just sit there and do that in front of me without a seeming care in the world?
Well, we made it to the run-up area — and I turned the Cessna into the wind and did the run-up being more careful to stabilize the flight controls. The engine checked out good. I completed the before takeoff checklist and I set the VOR navigation course selector to 030 degrees for the 300 degree magnetic course to fly to my flight planned cross-country destination point. Everything seemed to be good for takeoff so I called the tower for my takeoff clearance.
Dear readers, did anyone notice a mistake in that last paragraph? I did not realize the mistake I had made when I was preparing for departure on my check ride. It is one of the more common mistakes made in the cockpit of an aircraft. There’s a big difference in a course selection on the VOR OBS (Omni Bearing Selector) of 030 degrees versus 300 degrees. That’s a 90 degree difference in courses! That is a very big and serious mistake to make. It’s even more serious when you make it on a check ride for your FAA Private Pilot Certification! For me, it’s one of the reasons I titled this chapter, “A Very Bad Day.”
Salinas tower cleared us for takeoff and off we flew. The plotted course on my navigation log indicated that 300 degrees would take me to my planned destination. After clearing the traffic pattern, I proceeded to fly a course of 300 degrees. The only problem I had now was that my primary electronic navigation radio, the VOR, did not agree with my course alignment. The VOR showed that my course was to the right though I was flying my prescribed dead reckoning course heading. This lack of agreement between what I was flying and what the VOR was indicating caused some confusion in the cockpit. I was flying a proper heading with which my VOR did not agree.
After a bit, I think Mr. Jella had stood about all he could stand of my gross yet simple navigation error. As I think back now, I seem to recall that Mr. Jella pointed out the mis-set VOR course selector. I set in the 300 degree course on the VOR while smarting over my mistake. The VOR CDI centered indicating we were on course. From there, I proceeded on course until it was time to make my next mistake.
Next, we flew the upper air work maneuvers. Upon completion of the stalls, steep turns and slow flight, Mr. Jella failed the engine for the simulated forced landing emergency maneuver. We were about three miles south of the city of Morgan Hill. I followed the engine out emergency landing procedures– setting the pitch attitude for the best glide speed, selecting a forced landing site and heading for it, running the air start procedure and making the emergency mayday radio announcement.
The emergency landing site was a field that I had selected about a mile south of Morgan Hill. It was the best field that I was able to spot for the emergency landing. My selection of that emergency landing spot was the straw that broke the back when it came to passing my check ride. When Mr. Jella failed the engine he had the Morgan Hill Airport in mind for the forced landing spot site. I did not see the airport which was on Mr. Jella’s side of the aircraft. Had my positional awareness been up more well-developed and up to speed, I would have been aware of my proximity to the airport.
Following my failed forced landing attempt, we flew back to the Salinas Airport. The flight back to the Salinas Airport was quiet as the Examiner and I both had both realized that I would not earn my Private Pilot Certification that day.
For decades, I was under the mistaken impression that I had failed the my first official FAA check ride. A closer review of my first logbook showed that the endorsement in my pilot logbook written by Mr. Jella read “Private Pilot Check Ride Incomplete” — not failed. Regardless, I took it as a failure.
Logbook endorsement — “Pilot Pilot Flight Test Incomplete
After debriefing with Mr. Jella, I flew back to the Monterey Airport. My basic flying ability seemed great but I had “messed up” on a couple of important technicalities and was not able to pass my check ride that day. Back at Monterey, I told my instructor that I did not pass. He and the chief instructor looked disappointed. I do not recall either of them having anything encouraging to say about my failed attempt to pass my check ride. It felt like a very gloomy day to me and it was “fixin” to get gloomier.