So this morning I woke up and looked at the METAR, TAF and Area Forecast and it all said the same story, Few clouds at 1500, scattered at 2500 and visibility of around 9 kilometers. Despite the low few layer, it should be fine right? Or so I thought.
Rocking up to the airfield, I already see the originally scattered clouds above give way to more sunlight, and despite the cloudy and still sort of marginal conditions towards the training area, it was looking rather optimistic for some nice afternoon under-the-hood instrument flying with my primary instructor, who also just returned from an extended holiday so I was super excited to fly with him today again!
I did my usual dump-everything-into-the-locker-and-then-dig-out-the-flying-stuff routine and went to get the weather and of course something to drink and eat, gotta fulfil the IMSAFE checklist. After seeing the NOTAMs and knowing that no restricted or danger areas are active today, I sat down on the nice couch we have in our office and just had some casual chit-chat with another pilot about some flying and aviation related topics. It was pretty routine, with the faint sound of radio chatter emanating from the Yaesu base station of our flight operations office. Weather looking like it's clearing up, awesome. Now I'm just waiting for my plane to come back in. Oh and I also filed a flight plan! Awesome!
And my aircraft arrived early, perfect, I love it when it happens. After completing an uneventful preflight, I went back in and met up with my instructor and we set off.
Rotating at 55 knots, we were climbing at a good rate at around 80 knots pretty soon, we do an overhead departure through a gap in the mountains we call, "Kadoorie", as the Kadoorie Farm and Botanic Garden is shrouded in that valley, or "gap."
I turned overhead and levelled out at 1500 feet and it was the first sign of trouble, I switched frequency to "Hong Kong Information" which provides traffic advisory service and the first thing I heard was, "Visibility deteriorating in Fan Lau to around 2000 meters."
I thought to myself, "This doesn't make sense. The forecast says it is staying at 9km!" So I pressed on reassuring myself with that knowledge (Confirmation Bias!), my instructor is completely hands off as I am an overseas license holder, he likes me to act as if I am PIC. That's why I love flying with him, he gives me great and no BS feedback but also allows me to fly and develop my skills myself. But that's not the point of today's write-up, let's carry on.
I made my call, and all was well until we flew right past the valley and crossed the border to the sector, "New Town."
"Shit!" I thought to myself, "It was worse than I thought."
I put on my hood, but really he was only giving vectors to me so we can stay clear of clouds, however I could see from the edge that the visibility was quickly deteriorating and I ripped off the hood to have a better look. In retrospect I don't even think we had 2000 meters of visibility, I could barely see the ground or anything in front of me, we were skimming the clouds at around 1600 feet only and I was already weaving between clouds sticking out of the sky. I looked directly behind me and saw the valley we departed from, I can just barely make out the outline of the peak on the right, just as I was about to call it quits, my instructor told me to turn back.
They say great minds think alike, I say sane minds think alike. We never made it to Tolo, our training area.
I did my 180 degree turn back into the valley at rate 1, anticipating that if we ever go into full IMC I wouldn't become disoriented anyway. However a glance at the Direction Indicator (actually a HSI) confused me.
It froze, it wasn't showing a left turn.
God dammit, we now have an inoperative instrument! I strained my neck to keep sight of the slowly disappearing peak that signified kadoorie gap, and thank God it didn't disappear into the abyss of mist and clouds.
I looked over to the left in shock, I was right next to what appeared to be rolling mist coming in from the south, I could barely see the mountain ridge that was meant to be on my left, I sped up to around 115 knots to headed back as quickly as possible. We couldn't even enter at 2000 feet, which is our SOP, I was at 1800 and already wanting to descend ASAP.
Over to the west it was slightly better, and the direction indicator decided to work again, so I donned my hood once again and we did some descending and turning. Wonder why there was no climbing eh?
Both of us have had enough, I ripped off the hood and did the overhead join for runway 11, just as I was descending through 1500 feet I went right into cloud and lost all sights of the ground. Instinctively I chopped the throttle to full idle and dumped the nose right down, I watched as the IAS climbed above 120 knots with the altimeter unwinding like a broken wind-up toy. Thank whoever is looking out for us, we broke out at 1000 feet.
I was tired, shaken, scared (unbelievable eh?) and sweating (scorcher of a day today, never had the chance to adjust the air vents). Still with the thought of what could've happened I completely and royally f*ck up my first approach, high, fast and unstable. As soon as I turned final I called go-around, however it was the wrong decision, I didn't even try to fly a slip, because in retrospect a slip would've got us where we want, Why was it a wrong decision? The weather was closing in, the mist was rolling in, the clouds were locking us in. My instructor gave me the look as if I was insane.
This is why you never dwell in the past, I was shaking slightly, my breathing rate noticeably increased (This is the first time in my life I have ever encountered such misadventure).
We joined a quick and late downwind, and realised I was landing in a slight but noticeable tailwind, however there is no time for a runway change, and this time with a slip I was only slightly high. However the flare and hold off took forever, it's surprising how much difference only a couple of knots of tailwind can do to you. It wasn't a good approach, it wasn't a good landing, however I am so glad to be on terra firma again.
I threw the window on my side open as we backtracked the runway, for the first time in this flight I could say I relaxed.
After I shut down, my instructor said, "Sorry, we had to turn back." Without knowing I was going to make us turn back even if he said, "Carry on."
I simply said, "At least we made it back."
Reflection:
Sitting in flight operations, I reflected on the statistics, 75% of VFR into IMC are fatal. On average it would be 178 seconds before impact to the ground, I felt so stupid for even going today, both of us did. It was exactly what happens in most of these incidents, we decided to go out and "have a look," most pilots who were involved in such accidents also wanted to, "have a look." However I was grateful that both of us upheld our personal minimums and didn't go get "a closer look."
There were many human factors that came into play today such as confirmation bias and hazardous attitudes. I blame myself for my little regard to a little detail in the Area Forecast, "TEMPO Visibility 3km in rain/mist." Just because it usually doesn't happen, doesn't mean it wouldn't. Yes, we all learn from mistakes, but some of us never have such blessing to be able to live through our mistakes and learn from them.
I have been a licensed pilot (albeit an Australian license) since July now, although not officially licensed in Hong Kong yet, I find instructors here treat me like the PIC with the knowledge of my license, which is why I do take responsibility of what occurred today. With this, I became lenient, slack and complacent and really I admit that. Today was perhaps God's message to knock me back on my toes and off my boat of complacency.
As I went home, I checked the weather webcam of the airfield and find Kadoorie to be completely socked in with fog, and if we proceeded to Tolo with airwork, it would be around that time we are attempting to return. A SPECI was also issued with visibility as lot as 2100 meters and clouds as low as 600 feet. It confirmed that my, or our decision earlier to turn back and land ASAP was a right decision, or else we might find ourselves scud running at 500 feet with nowhere to go except to the front cover of tomorrow's newspaper tabloids perhaps.
The ground had never felt so comfortable under my feet before |
Until next time,
Have fun, fly safe!
--
Howard