Time of Accident ±1800Z

Type of Aircraft PIPER PA 34-200T

Type of Operation Private

Pilot-in-command License Type: Commercial 

Age 24

License Valid Yes

PIC Experience Total Flying Hours 1064.0 

Hours on Type: 354.3

Departure Kruger Mpumalanga Airport (FAKN)

Intended landing Piet Retief Aerodrome (FAPF)

Accident site Runway 15 – Piet Retief Aerodrome

Met Fine: Wind light variable from the South,

Temperature +20°C, CAVOK

POB 1 + 5

People injured Nil

People killed Nil

Synopsis  

According to air traffic control at FAKN the aircraft landed at their facility at 1652Z on an inbound flight from Inhambane in Mozambique with six occupants onboard. 

After landing the aircraft uplifted 360 liters of Avgas. According to available records all occupants cleared customs.  

Emergency personnel as well as the fuel attendant recorded the aircraft again departing their facility at 1720Z for a flight to Piet Retief, which is a licensed unmanned aerodrome with no active runway lights. 

At the time of departure from FAKN the control tower had already closed down for active duty (1700Z).

An arrangement was made by the pilot that two vehicles would be parked at the threshold of Runway 15 at FAPF awaiting the aircraft with their headlamps illuminating the runway. 

The pilot perceived his approach to be quite high at the time and he increased his rate of descent accordingly.  On final approach the pilot experienced what he described as a lack of runway perspective due to insufficient lighting and the absence of natural light (moonlight). 

His intention was to fly low over the vehicles to maximize the use of their lights but realized too late that his approach was too steep.  In an attempt to flare the aircraft, he exceeded the elevator control range and collided with the roof of one of the vehicles (Pajero) at ±80 knots.

It would appear that the impact severed the nose gear assembly resulting in a wheels-up landing on Runway 15. The aircraft skidded along the runway for approximately 70m and then turned sideways. Coming to a halt on the runway.  The aircraft was substantially damaged.  Nobody was injured in the event.           

Probable Cause 

During an attempt to land on an unlit runway at night the aircraft collided with a vehicle on short final approach, which severed the nose landing gear assembly from the aircraft and resulted in a wheels-up landing on the runway. 

Jim’s Comments 

I have been staring at a blank screen and wondering what to write that will persuade people to use common sense.

But of course it isn’t really a lack of common sense that caused this crash. So what is it that causes an otherwise sensible pilot to take a fat chance with other people’s lives?

If I had sat him down before this 100 nautical mile flight into the dark and asked him if he really thought it was a good idea to endanger everyone’s lives by not having a proper place to land, I suspect he would have called it off.

He must have known roughly what a crash-site looks like. Burned bodies, twisted metal, humans converted to slimy pieces of meat and bone. Flies and a terrible smell.

So what force drives this pilot to risk all that? Two things – pride and testosterone. These are incredibly powerful pressures that obliterate fear, imagination and common sense.

Well that’s the case for roughly half of the world’s population – the half that were born males. In order to avoid politics and genetics I will not mention the undecided, or unclassified sectors of humanity. Oops, I just have. Sorry.

Anyhow in general –  lady pilots don’t do silly things like beat-ups and showing off and flying into cars on pitch black nights. They know when, and how, to say no.

Here’s what a lady pilot might say to a passenger who tries to bully her into a flight she knows is dangerous.

“It’s better to be late, Mr Plunkett, than the late Mr Plunkett.”

Actually I’m always shattered by pax who try to override a pilot’s decision not to fly. If I were a student SCUBA (Self Contained Underwater Breathing Apparatus) diver, and my instructor told me that today there was a danger that I could run out of oxygen, have my leg chomped off by a shark, or suffer from the staggers, I would open a beer and wait for more propitious conditions.

You’d think a non-flyer would respect the pilot’s decisions – but it often doesn’t happen.

Let me tell you about those most repulsive members of human society – the charter passengers. If you get the impression I dislike them you have underrated my loathing of these blots on the landscape. I speak of the ones who say, “Put my luggage in the Land-Rover and call my wife to tell her I’ll be late.”

Anyhow here are a couple of stories about how I have managed to deal with them.

I have just landed at Middleburg, having flown four of these horrors up from George. As they are about to get into airconditioned cars and leave me on the hot, desolate airfield, I corner the chief horror and explain that we need to take off at 5.00 pm in order to get home before dark as, in  those days, George airfield was unmanned and unlit.

I spend the day with a cowboy book, a bottle of water and sandwiches in a Tupperware container. This is the lot of the charter pilot.

Eventually the Four Horrors pitch at about ten to six.

I ask them what their plan is – they look at me as if I’m mad and tell me they are now ready to depart for George. I tell them we can’t land there because I can’t find airfields in the dark. They are amazed but insist on going as the Chief Horror says he knows where the airfield is.

Of course, when we cross the Outeniqua mountains, and I ask the Chief Horror to point out the runway amongst the lights below, this causes some consternation. So I relieve the pressure by telling them that exactly 162 nautical miles to the east there’s a lighted runway at Port Elizabeth. We will be night stopping there and the extra costs will be invoiced to their company.

I never saw them again – but they did pay.

I’ve told you this next story before, so I’ll keep it brief.

I was based in Kimberley, and I had to fly my rotund and normally jovial boss, Bert Potgieter, to Bloomies in our brand-new Twin Comanche, ZS- EAR for a Very Important Meeting. It took a bit over half an hour to cover the 83 nautical miles.

Sadly the summer thunderstorms had started bubbling early that day. When we arrived there was the grandmother of all Charlie Bravos sitting on top of Bloomies, like a fat hen on a dozen eggs. There was no way in hell we could get in.

I explained to Bert that his VIM had just been cancelled. He told me that was impossible and I tried to explain that I was a coward and the thought of an early death held no appeal.

On the way back to Kimberley Bert shed his customary good nature and bellowed at me like an enraged buffalo. He informed me that he hadn’t bought an expensive aeroplane to be stuffed around by a cheap pilot. I was fired. However we did agree that this would only take effect after landing as he had no idea how to get this lot on the ground.

I ignored the firing – it had happened before, and I found that it generally dissolved withing 24 hours.

A couple of days later I overheard him telling some charter pax that I was the safest pilot in the world.

It was actually on that return flight, while Bert was shouting at me, that I invented my foolproof anti-bullying-pax idea. All you have to do is mentally replace the pax with wooden boxes containing tape recorders that emit stupid and offensive words.

Sounds silly? It works like a strap, and I have used it ever since in the air and on the ground to avoid doing things that frighten me.

Now, to get back to this accident. If you really have to land at night with car lights, the SAAF taught me that you need two Land Rovers, but I suppose Toyotas will do.

They are at the threshold – one either side and well back from the runway. They must shine their lights inwards at about 45 degrees so their beams intersect at the touchdown zone. 

At the far end of the runway you have someone holding a bright torch, at waist height, pointing down at the ground ten metres away so as not to dazzle the pilot – this is only for direction after touchdown.

I’m not advocating this – but if you are going to do something silly, do it sensibly.

Take home stuff.

  • Ask yourself – would a lady pilot do this?
  • Brief your pax the day before on possible delays or diversions.
  • Remember the tape recorders – they have often given me solace.
  • In the long run you will be alive and respected for saying NO.