Save Story: ‘Like a Cement Mixer Full of Rocks’
That’s what it felt like as a Piper PA-28 pilot crashed his plane. Experience and clear-headed thinking — both on his part and on the controllers who assisted him — played a major role in keeping the accident off the fatal list.
By Jim Tise, FAA Communications
The pilot of a disabled aircraft radioed the air traffic control facility that he was “putting it down in the trees.” Six words no pilot ever wants to say, and six words no controller ever wants to hear.
But that was the transmission to the Terminal Radar Approach Control (TRACON) in Portland, Ore., on the afternoon of March 29. For nearly 30 minutes prior, FAA controllers had assisted the pilot of a Piper PA-28 flying near Mt. St. Helens on the way to Tacoma Narrows Airport in Washington. The plane was flying at 8,000 feet when the pilot reported his engine was running roughly.
“Suddenly… there was a very strong vibration in the airplane,” said Truman O’Brien, the PA-28 pilot. “It wasn’t like an engine missing. It was a very unusual sensation.”
He and his passenger discussed the possibility of airframe or carburetor icing, but conditions weren’t cold enough.
“It became obvious it was the engine that was causing the vibration,” he said.
Engine trouble, especially among general aviation planes, “is an issue, but generally not a very concerning issue,” said Kristen Lewandowski, the lead controller at Portland TRACON that day, recalling the pilot’s initial transmissions. She has handled her share of pilots reporting engine problems during her nearly 11-year career as an FAA controller, and most resolved themselves without incident. So when O’Brien requested a descent to 6,000 feet, she authorized it without a second thought.
But at 6,000 feet, the severity of the situation became more apparent as O’Brien reported he was having major engine problems.
It’s hard to imagine a more experienced pilot dealing with this situation. O’Brien has nearly 20,000 hours of flight time, including 19 years as a commercial airline pilot for Alaska Airlines. By his count, he has experienced 14 partial or total engine failures and always managed to land the plane. At least five were aboard large commercial aircraft. That level of experience showed through in his calm, professional manner, which was matched by that of Lewandowski, as they ran through options for him to land his plane. But all the experience in the world can’t fix a balky engine.
O’Brien asked to be vectored to the nearest airport. Lewandowski offered him Portland International Airport, with O’Brien responding he’d take wherever was closest. Lewandowski directed him to stay at 5,700 feet, the minimum safe altitude in that area.
As O’Brien descended through the clouds, he radioed the TRACON to say he was not sure he could maintain 5,700 feet. As the plane descended to 3,700 feet, Lewandowski issued a low-altitude alert to steer the pilot away from hills in the area.
Lewandowski’s colleagues at the TRACON pulled up airport after airport as options for O’Brien to land, including Goheen Airport and Woodland State Airport. Each attempt to direct the pilot and his passenger to a nearby airport proved futile. The final option was a grass strip at Sutton Airport, but O’Brien again said he couldn’t make it there.
“Within seconds it was evident it wasn’t going to make it,” Lewandowski recalled.
She asked if O’Brien could see any roads; O’Brien responded negative, at which point he reported he was “putting it down” in the trees. The plane dropped from the radar display at 3:47 p.m. local time. There was no further communication with the aircraft.
“As we broke out into this valley there was nothing but trees,” said O’Brien.
Training had taught him to locate the densest part of the forest where the canopy would be thick enough to absorb the impact of a crash. O’Brien slowed the plane down to its minimum speed of about 57 mph. He clutched the controls.
“I remember hearing if you’re ever in a crash fly it through the entire way,” he recalled. Don’t give up control of the plane.
The plane struck the tree canopy.
“It was kind of like being in a cement mixer full of rocks,” he recalled. “It was very loud — branches breaking.”
His passenger expressed concern that they could be impaled by one of the broken tree limbs.
“I felt this horrible feeling like a little mouse getting pounded,” O’Brien said. “At the last moment I did see the ground coming up.”
Outside the Portland TRACON, the weather was ominous with heavy cloud cover, precipitation, and icing conditions. Inside the TRACON, controllers felt “a looming cloud” over their operations.
Lewandowski described a heartbreaking moment when the plane dropped off the radar screen.
“It is a horrible feeling,” she said. During her scheduled break, she went for a walk outside. “I just kind of hoped for the best,” she recalled.
She called her father, a former controller at the Detroit TRACON, for advice.
“I’m lucky in that I have someone who understands it and who has been there. He said, ‘You did everything you could. You did everything right. Assume the positive.’”
As soon as O’Brien’s plane had dropped off the radar, the TRACON staff switched into search-and-rescue mode, notifying local law enforcement agencies about the downed plane.
Patrick Elmore was the supervisor on duty that day. He said he and his crew “started using all the functions of our radar display to determine the last point we saw him on radar.” They reported that latitude and longitude position to the search and rescue teams.
Overlaying a map of the area on the radar screen, they determined which county the plane likely crashed in. They used a video replay system that sends a link to Google Maps that allowed them to zoom in and look for specific road names near the point where the plane was last seen on radar.
For nearly six hours, the night-shift crew held their collective breath as they awaited definitive word from the search-and-rescue units.
Meanwhile, O’Brien and his passenger found themselves nose down in the woods. They managed to free themselves from the plane with nothing more than a few scratches. They took stock of the situation and switched to survival mode.
In a series of moves worthy of an Eagle Scout, or perhaps TV’s “MacGyver,” they removed the plane’s battery to try to start a fire (they only produced some smoke; the ground was too wet); unbolted the seats from the airplane so they could sit off the wet ground; cut the sheepskin covers off the seats for added warmth; and reconnoitered for open areas that could serve as landing zones for a rescue aircraft.
It took about six hours, but rescuers finally spotted the pair. A U.S. Navy helicopter hovered over the clearing and hoisted them out.
At 9:30 p.m. local time, controllers got the news they had hoped to hear but did not allow themselves to believe would come true. The plane had been located … with two survivors.
“The relief I got was indescribable,” said Lewandowski. “We really were very concerned that this was going to have a different outcome. Even if they’re in the hospital, they survived.
“The outcome was way better than what I assumed it had been.”
Despite the high experience levels of all involved, there were still lessons learned on all sides.
O’Brien said he would have done three things differently.
First, he would have climbed to a higher altitude when the engine trouble occurred.
“Climb as long as we could climb. The higher you are, the farther you can glide, the better shape you are,” he said.
O’Brien also would have turned on the emergency locator transmitter before ditching in the woods. In this accident, it did not activate until it was removed from the wreckage and turned on manually. He also said he should have flipped off the master switch, which would have reduced the chances of a fire from the ruptured fuel tanks.
Beyond that, he extolled the “absolutely superb” assistance he received from the Portland TRACON that afternoon.
“I would tell them, ‘Thank you very much. You did a great job.”
Both O’Brien and Elmore, he Portland supervisor, offer one additional bit of advice:Communicate with air traffic control.
“When you’re flying instrument meteorological conditions, fly the airplane and communicate your situation right away,” O’Brien said.
Although it wasn’t the case with O’Brien, Elmore feels “sometimes … private pilots, they’re afraid to call us for directions. We are here for that purpose. We’re here to help people be safe in the air. Never have any reservations about talking to us. We’re here to provide the best service we can for the flying public.”
