He was in a hurry. It was a hot day. He had just emerged from a small aeroplane and these can behave like a small oven. He was covered with sweat, his tie was pulled down and his shirt was half out. He clutched a Coke.
"Could you do some time with my student this afternoon? He's nearly ready for solo but he hasn't done any crosswind landings. We haven't had any windy days so he has missed out... I have to be in Sydney so I'll see you later." Our airfield did a wonderful line in westerly winds and to go to near solo without winds was close to a miracle. The wind was slowly picking up so the afternoon would be fine for that.
Today was also the day of the monthly club competition and they were setting up on the crosswind runway. The runway had a fine large grassy area on the side. The 'obstructions' were made of cardboard and string so that they couldn't hurt anything and by being on the crosswind runway they were largely out of everyone's way; except perhaps for us. They would practice glide emergency landings onto a patch marked out with flags and witches hats. I spoke to a few of the competition pilots that I knew. They waved, laughing and cheerful.
My student proved to be in his late thirties or early forties. He seemed to know his stuff. He fuelled and checked out the aircraft, a Cessna 152. He seemed competent and switched on. Good.
I gave him a quick briefing and went over how to do a crosswind approach and landing. He seemed a little impatient and I understood that. He wanted to get on and show me that he could do it. Excellent. I pointed out the competition on the runway edge and stressed the need to fit in with what they were doing and that he needed to be aware of them.
"OK. Let's go"!
The first circuit was to be on the into wind runway so that I could see how he flew.
He started, taxied and did his vital actions perfectly. He flew a good circuit and from the touch and go we altered onto the crosswind runway. We would have to be very alert for other traffic. It was still sunny and the mild westerly had reduced the temperature so that it was very pleasant. A good day to be an instructor I thought.
We turned downwind for 23, the runway that we needed to be on. "Remember to angle the nose into the wind on the legs of the circuit so that we track straight over the ground". He nodded. No problems. When we turned base and then finals he carefully kept the aeroplane pointed correctly to cancel the drift caused by the wind, just as we flared he straightened to the runway heading and landed properly. Most crosswind landings look a little untidy but that is not the pilot's fault, although there was nothing wrong with this one. It was immediately after landing that a problem surfaced. The aircraft was slowly swinging off the runway and towards the spectators for the competition. They were well distant but we weren't going towards the other end of the runway.
"You have to steer the aircraft on the ground as well as in the air and also use appropriate aileron. Push on the rudder"!
"I was taught to keep the rudder pedals straight when I land". He said.
I acknowledged that that was correct but AFTER the landing you still had to control the aeroplane's direction. We flew a few more circuits. Each time we landed he would not make any attempt to keep it straight. When I said push on the rudder he would tap it with his foot and then let it go. I kept saying, "Push more rudder. Keep it straight. You have to control the 'plane after it touches".
He flew really well until he touched down and then he let the wind bully the plane wherever it wanted. He was trying to keep the rudder pedals level at all times. I pointed out that you could push on one pedal or the other; that is what they are for. "Push harder"!
Our aerodrome had once been an all over field and was relatively flat and free of obstructions, save for the runway lighting. I had occasionally allowed a student who was having directional control problems to run off the runway and work right through their mistakes. They rarely allow it to happen again and they really work at getting it right. Today, the competition was near the runway edge and my man seemed to be bent on charging at them, no matter what I said.
I thought that I would change our luck. The wind was changing its strength and direction so I changed the circuit direction. This moved the wind from one side to the other and its relative direction to the runway heading slightly and it also moved us further from the competitors. The more I said left rudder the less inclined he became to do what was necessary to stay on the runway. I was beginning to realize that I wasn't getting through and that it would be better to hand him back to his primary instructor for some more work. A pity. Our next take-off, I decided, would be our last. As we moved forward the wind was already pushing us to the right.
"Left rudder".
I certainly had no idea he had a short fuse. Most people do what the instructor says without much drama.
"I'll give you left rudder". He shouted, and slammed his left foot all the way to the floor and locked his leg there. I was completely taken by surprise. I couldn't get his leg off the rudder. My alarmed shouts did nothing.
I had never seen an aeroplane react like this.
We had barely reached the absolute minimum for flight and as we charged off the runway I hauled all the way back on the controls to stop from hitting the ground sideways. The fuselage creaked and groaned. The airflow was howling, the stall warning horn was howling, the engine was howling at full power and I was howling at the student to get his foot off the rudder. Even with full right aileron we were still turning left and I couldn't hold the aircraft straight and with all that extra drag the little Cessna couldn't accelerate. I couldn't really control where we were going and I was just doing my best to avoid obstacles.
The distant trees of the property next door were getting closer. We were still turning left despite the aileron. We were right at the stall and the distant trees were now here.
Finally, the foot came off the rudder. We had just enough speed to climb the face of the trees, skimming their spiky tops. Our neighbour was very sensitive to noise and as we climbed over the roof of his house I hoped that he wasn't home. I cleaned up the Cessna and settled back into the climb. I said nothing for a while and then reluctantly handed back control. We finished the circuit and landed into the wind.
Our post flight discussion was inconclusive. I think that he had frightened himself as well as me. I did give him some clear instruction on what NOT to do in the future. His lack of crosswind experience had left him with a false sense of competency and his short fuse had done the rest. I hadn't realized that I was irritating him, so, in that sense, we had both failed. The real question was what to do now? There was no doubt that he had endangered the aircraft and both of our lives and for no better reason than that he was cranky.
Most pilots that I have met have never pushed right down on the rudder pedal except maybe in aerobatics and then only for a moment. Imagine having the rudder full on. Don't try it though.
The CFI was away on a cross-country and the student's regular instructor was in Sydney. I wrote the longest comment that I have ever made in the training records and left notes for the CFI and the instructor and then headed for the bar.
The competition crowd were in great cheer. They said that they had had a great day and had kept it all nice and safe.
