Breaking news: plane just crashed into NYC building

Yes, that is correct.

It probably also didn’t help that the Cirrus has a side-stick controller and the high-time pilot was probably much more familar with using a yoke control system. You certainly can go back and forth - I switch off between yokes, joysticks, and sidesticks these days - but it does take a little bit to get used to the different control set ups. What is a minor discomfort in normal flight can become a problem when an emergency requires a quick and instantaneous reaction. It may or may not be a factor, I have no way to know for sure.

I could re-speculate using updated facts, but only if ya’ll want to see it and only if ya’ll promise to remember it’s strictly WAG on my part and nothing official or definitive.

Sure, re-speculate away. I don’t have enough interest in the situation to seek out every tidbit of information available, but it’s always fun to see someone knowledgeable speculate–sometimes wildly.
(I just read an old thread about designing giant roaches linked to in a present thread in GQ about giant praying mantises.)

From CNN

Just to put that in perspective, at 112 mph you will travel 1/4 mile in just a hair over 8 seconds. That’s not a lot of time in which to recognize you are in deep shit, get over any initial shock at that revelation, decide what is the right thing to do, and then do it.

Losing 200 feet or more in a steep, low-powered turn is not at all unusual. You need engine power to keep you at the same altitude when turning steeply in order to generate sufficient lift not only to turn the airplane but also to keep it from descending.

Do not discount the psychological factor. Heading towards a brick wall at 112 mph (180 kph) in a “fiberglass” shell from about 1/4 mile (that’s around 40% of a kilometer) away is NOT going to help your rational thought processes.

This is a “box canyon” problem, which I will refer to in the next post (darn post length limits!)

Who’s doing the flying is usually determined by distinctive breaks in the forearm of whoever was holding the controls. This would seem to indicate some difficulty in making the determination. Not only did they hit hard, the flesh and blood took a hell of a beating.

But oh, the talking heads like to harp on those “black boxes” and the lack of them in small, private airplanes! It would be helpful, however, if they could get engine performance data for this accident.

Nothing remarkable - GPS’s are becoming common as dirt in all airplanes, and a new one like a Cirrus will have one. Many pilots also carry handheld GPS units as backup.

But a passenger is not required to take it, even if the passenger is a CFI.

I’m wondering if Lidle had taken the course.

I’m wondering if Lidle was taking Stanger for a ride down the river so the CFI could see what the Cirrus was like and get some experience in it, rather than being intensively tutored by the instructor on that flight. How much time in a Cirrus did Stanger have? Could this have been his first flight in one? If I recall, a CFI needs a minimum of 5 hours in an airplane before giving instruction in it (which may be a wholly inadequate number for some aircraft). Going up with a private pilot who owns a particular model of aircraft is one way to get that required experience. There is considerable ambiguity here regarding who might have been in charge, who might have more experience in this airplane, and whether this was a lesson or a ride.

Actually, there’s a set minimum distance they must keep from clouds and buildings. Just for the record - it’s a greater distance than 1/4 mile. This is to help avoid people getting into situations they can’t get out of, for reasons that are now obvious.

That 1100 foot limitation is for that particular corridor - the altitudes are set differently for each VFR flyway, and sometimes for different parts of the same flyway, based on terrain, obstacles, and what else is going on in the neighborhood.

Standard procedure in any accident, although in this case inconvenient because you’re blocking a city street or two.

Ouch.

See, Stanger was from California, but flying in NYC - outside his usual territory and away from his flight school. Was this a matter of a student giving an instructor a ride, rather than an instructor giving a lesson? The fact they were sight-seeing lends some weight to the former rather than the latter.

The hours listed earlier would lend creedance to that - the average to get a license these days is 70-80, and if the hours given for Lidle are accurate here he earned his license in significantly less time than that. Which would indicate above average aptitude. However, he would still be low on experience - the sort of experience that would help keep you out of many bad situations.

Usually.

Nice distinction.

You’re solo only when you’re alone in the aircraft. Before you get your license, pilot in command = solo because you can’t legally carry passengers. Once you have your license, though, you can be pilot in command if there are other people aboard, even if you aren’t solo under those conditions. You are ALSO usually pilot in command even when getting further instruction because, for the most part, the instructor isn’t flying, he’s teaching. YOU’RE flying, not him (or her). It is possible and legal for an instructor who is no longer medically certified to fly - and thus can’t be pilot in command - to provide flight instruction for pay as long as the student they are teaching is fully licensed and qualified to fly the aircraft they are in (it’s pretty damn rare, though). There is a tendency to assume an instructor or the pilot with the most hours/senority/experience is always in command and that is not the case at all.

On the other hand, a pilot is free to draw upon the relevant experience of anyone else aboard, including asking the opinion of a another pilot along for the ride, or letting him/her do part of the flying. There was at least one instance where the captain of a commercial jet turned the controls over to his co-pilot - they had had a complete engine failure and the co-pilot was an experienced glider pilot whereas the captain was not, and they were now flying a B757 glider. The captain decided that the co-pilot had better skills in that area than he did, and gave the glider pilot the airplane. Since everyone walked away unhurt at the end, it was a good decision. It’s called cockpit resource management.

Which is nothing unique to this accident - they do that all the time. It’s part of their job.

I am torn between this desire to speculate, and to keep my mouth shut and just wait until facts come out. The problem with speculating in situation like this is that the media loves bad news about small airplanes. By the time it gets through the media, the general public has a tendency to think that small airplanes are inherently not safe. Just look at Broomstick’s post above. There is a significant amount of other ‘stuff’ behind a statement that the media makes. It used to be that journalists and the media report the actual story, which meant asking experts and delivering a good, solid, well thought out message. Nowadays they jump to all sorts of conclusions. Or, at least, thats my impression

If only the average person knew how prevelant small airplanes are and how rare it is to have an accident. Anyone interested in doing research can go to ntsb.gov, check out the aviation incidents and realize how infrequent a fatal accident is compared to the number of incidents overall.

BUT they dont - most non commercial air traffic goes unnoticed until something happens to someone famous that everyone knows. Then there is a media storm and everyone is all of a sudden scared about small airplanes. This trickles down to result in more and more restrictions in general aviation. I’d guess that this is the reason why Broomstick is fairly adament about stating that he/she is going on speculation. But, thats only me speculating :slight_smile:

But in this case your speculation is correct.

I think you’ve got the right of it.

Sure, there are risks to me speculating in a public forum. I try to be cognizant of that when writing these posts.

On the other hand, for a lot of people I know in both real life and on the internet I am one of the few, if not the only, pilot they talk with. I’m not some guy in a historical newsreel from WWII or the person locked in the front of the passenger jet that they seem more as a uniform than a human being - I’m a person who has a day job not much different than their’s who happens to spend my spare time in the sky instead of on the golf course.

Pilots certainly sit around discussing and armchair-quarteringbacking airplane accidents – we try to justify it as an educational exercise, a means of figuring out what NOT to do and learning from other peoples’ mistakes. And while that’s true we’d also be lying not to admit to as least as much voyeurism as anyone else. The difference, though, is that we have some actual understanding of the subject at hand, and we know the early reports will often change significantly as new facts come to light over time.

So here, I try very hard to explain these things from a pilot’s perspective (or at least one pilot’s perspective) while emphasizing that I don’t have all the facts at hand. Because people do want to know what happened, or might have happened.

It’s also part of the reason I post stories about my own flying - while there are some exciting moments a lot of it is pretty boring and routine. But then, I’m not famous so I don’t get on the big-scale media. I guess I’ll have to simply continue being a small, quiet voice in the wilderness…

On Friday I spoke with a co-worker who had lived in NYC for a time and was familar with the location where the accident occured. Between that and an on-line map of the area, along with some preliminary stuff from the NTSB, I offer the following revised scenario (and please do remember this can change further based on more information). Please do keep in mind there is quite a bit of speculation involved - I’ll try to make it clear what’s fact and what’s my mental wanderings.

This seems to be a variation on what I usually hear termed as the “box canyon problem”. Normally, this issue comes up in moutain flying, and the gist of the problem is that terrain can rise faster than an airplane can climb. When flying up-valley or up-canyon, it is possible to get into a situation where obstacles to either side made the airspace too narrow to turn around in, and the rising terrain ahead makes a wall the airplane can’t climb over in time. I am not an expert in mountain flying at all, but when I first flew in the Appalacians I was strongly cautioned about the dangers and warned to always fly above the ridgelines and never, ever, fly up-canyon (due to my inexperience and lack of required skills - for a trained and experienced pilot there are times when this can be done safely). If felt a need to fly a valley, start at the highest elevation/narrowest point and fly down and out, so the land falls away and the valley gets wider.

It doesn’t matter one bit if the canyon is natural or manmade. The Manhattan high rises make real canyons, even if they’re artificial. In one publication in the aviation media this was actually described as a “box canyon with a ceiling”. In this case, the ceiling was not just the upper limit of the VFR flying (which is an intangible barrier) but also the low cloud cover which would have forced them to keep low even without the regulatory “ceiling” above them. In some ways, that cloud barrier was more significant - bust the VFR flyway ceiling human authorities will be upset at you. Bust the cloud ceiling without an IFR flight plan you can get into physical trouble, like being unable to see where you’re going, spatial disorientation, or possible discovering that the famous “silver lining” of clouds in this case is made out of airplane aluminum. In flight school I was taught that if you have to make a choice between violating an airspace border and violating something like a cloud bank without proper preparation - violate the man-made invisible line and worry about sorting it out later. It’s much safer.

So, anyhow, they were flying above the East River. This is a narrow corridor. It is possible that niether of these pilots had any experience in mountain/canyon flying and even if there was adequate room for manuvering the walls of the buildings may have been close enough to generate psychological discomfort and anxiety. Or maybe not.

At the end of the East River, in front of them from their perspective, is LaGuardia airport airspace, which is Class B. Class B airspace requires permission from ATC to enter. It’s an invisible barrier, intangible, but there is a border there. Cross it and you will be noticed. “Busting” Class B can result in hefty fines or suspension (perhaps even loss) of pilot’s license. It doesn’t always have that result, but it’s certainly an option for the authorities.

Anyhow, from on-line pilots who fly in NYC I gather that most folks flying up the East River ask for and get clearance to traverse that airspace. You really only nick the edge of LaGuarida’s territory, and if you’re flying the VFR flyway altitudes you’ll pass a very safe distance under the commerical and other traffic going in and out of that airport. Or, if there’s some problem with contacting ATC or getting permission folks divert over Queens by turning right. This may result in violations concerning minimum altitudes over buildings, or it may not.

The thing is, niether of the two guys in this Cirrus are familar with NYC. One is a low time pilot - he’s got skills, but not a lot of actual experience. The other guy has time and experience in the cockpit, but he’s from California, which is considerably different territory than New York.

Anyhow - there they are, flying up the East River in a man-made canyon. It’s narrow. So narrow, in fact, it may not be possible to for them to make a U-turn in that flyway. There is some debate about that, and the reason for that depends on the capability of both pilots and aircraft. I’ve flown aircraft with a turning radius of 20 feet and aircraft that require 2000 feet. You can’t get a license without being able to make a safe 45 degree bank turn. While I’ve flown airplanes that could physically make 70 or 75 degree banks in level flight I don’t know if I could safely manage the manuver.

Suffice to say that the 2000-2500 foot wide corridor they were flying through was damn narrow for a 180 turn in a four-seat aircraft of typical capability. Also keep in mind that they weren’t flying along an edge, but down the center. So if they turned they wouldn’t have 2500 feet available but only around around half that. Maybe a little more than that if they altered their flight path to allow more room prior to making the turn, but they won’t have the full width to use for the turn radius. It is unlikely that the low-time pilot, despite his basic competence, is going to have the experience and skill to make that sort of turn with solid objects to either side. The higher-time pilot might - IF the turn is physically possible to begin with.

So, flying along a slot too narrow to allow a U-turn, heading towards a barrier… LaGuardia has no record of them making radio contact (all such radio contacts are recorded as a matter of course). Maybe they tried and couldn’t - buildings can block transmissions sometimes. Maybe they had the wrong frequency turned in. Maybe someone “stepped on” their tranmission and blocked it that way. Oh, dear - they don’t have permission to go through imaginary wall ahead. Oh, no. They’re about to break the rules.

Maybe they panicked. It does happen.

So, they have this sudden need to turn.

Here we get into human factors. In a high-stress or emergency situation, you tend to react as you have been trained and accustomed to doing so. 99 times out of a 100 (at least), turns in aviation are to the left. In a panic/startle situation pilots have a VERY strong tendency to go left.

And they did. They turned left. Right into the side of a building. Clearly demonstrating they did NOT have enough room to make a U-turn.

Here’s the sad thing: death may not have been inevitable.

For one thing, they could have turned RIGHT - and given their altitude they probably would have passed safely over Queens. They’d still have to be careful about LaGuardia’s airspace, and they might be lower than strictly legal, but they would be alive. Other pilots have done this - there are a fair number of NYC pilots posting such on aviation message boards.

The second alternative would have been to keep going forward. Yes, they would have busted Class B. That’s not good. Potentially, it’s a bunch of violations - entering Class B without permission, flying in a reckless manner, failure to adquately plan during preflight, etc., etc. Could be tens of thousands of dollars in fines, yes, maybe a suspension, it does go on your record… but they would be alive. More likely given the low time/inexperience of the putative pilot in command, this being a first time offense, and the fact that the danger factor would be low (they’d be on the very edge of the airspace - it IS a buffer zone) the FAA would probably not go for the maximum penalty. In fact, if the pilot is contrite - “Oh, boy, I made a mistake, had to bust airspace to keep from having an accident, sorry, what do you want me to do/how do I make this better” - and fill out his NASA form he might get off with just a verbal warning. I mean, better to bust a traffic rule than have an actual accident, right? Pilots actually ARE allowed some leeway for safety’s sake - you might have a three hour debriefing with the FAA over it and get your knuckles slapped, but few people screw up twice the same way (if you do, THEN they lower the boom on you). One violation of this sort on your record is not going to end a career. In any case - they would still be alive.

Third option - they could have ditched in the river. Other pilots have found a need to make an unscheduled water landing in the NYC waters and survived. It’s not fun and it is hazardous - but considerably less dangerous than slamming into a building at high speed.

Fourth option - not usually available. They could have pulled the parachute and landed in the river that way. You’ve only got about three minutes to get out of the airplane before it sinks, but it’s doable and again, the guys would be alive. Given that a plane being lowered by a giant parachute is going to attract some notice I’d expect someone would be along to pull them out of the water quite quickly. In fact, a couple months ago in Indiana a Cirrus airplane landed under parachute in a small lake - everyone got out alive except the pilot. Well, his son dragged him out of the airplane, but the medical problem he had just experienced proved fatal (his son - a non-pilot passenger sitting in the other front seat, had pulled the parachute handle). And sure enough, lots of people called 911 to report an airplane skydiving into a lake.

See, that’s one of the risks of aviation - you get yourself into a VERY bad situation, you have seconds (or less) to diagnose the problem and choose the CORRECT course of action, then do it - and you only get one chance. You do it right the first time or you may not ever do anything again. Then lots of other people sit back, spend days analysing your decision (which you had to make in just seconds or less), and critique your performance.

If I had found myself in that exact same position would I have made the right decision? I’d like to give an unqualified yes - but if I’m honest I have to admit I can’t be sure. I don’t care how skilled and experienced you are, you are human and you can still make mistakes. I have very little experience with canyons, I’ve never been to NYC, and I, like every other pilot I know, have left-turning tendencies. The potential is there. On the other hand, tens of thousands of flights have been made up the East River by pilots flying small planes in VFR conditions without incident. So history says that the vast majority of the time pilots will make the correct choices, even if that means rattling windows in Queens or annoying the LaGaurdia tower.

The lesson here for pilots is that you really need to understand the local hazards of where you fly, even if you’re from out of town. And you really have to think about what could wrong and how you’d deal with it. If, for example, you’re flying up the East River, you can’t make a U-turn in the available space, and you’re counting on permission being granted to enter Class B airspace you have to consider what happens if you DON’T get permission - and what you’re going to do then?. You have to understand that there ARE times when not only *can *you break the rules - you should, and worry about picking up the pieces later. It sure looks like these guys failed to plan that far in advance. Even if every other time they flew they were careful and thoughtful, this time they neglected to consider some fairly obvious possibilities, which was foolish. Aviation is not forgiving of fools - even if it’s the one-time foolishness of otherwise non-foolish people. And that’s a big reason why pilots sit around talking accidents to death - when faced with this situation you don’t have the time to do a leisurely analysis and a make a thoughtful decision. You have to react, quickly - but if you think about these problems beforehand, if you learn what others did wrong so you won’t (hopefully) do the same, if you try to figure out a viable solution, then the odds of you making the correct decision under pressure go up dramatically. Accident discussion and analysis is a significant part of pilot safety seminars and ground school study/refreshers. Emergency simulation - so you can practice the correct actions - is a significant part of flight training and flight practice. This has a lot to do with why aviation is safer than ever.

Personally, my greatest aviation ambition is to die an old pilot, in bed, in such a manner that it will not get into the headlines.

The good news is that Bloomberg is a General Avation pilot, and a really good one. (I did not know he flew himself… nor that he successfully pulled off an autorotation and a small plane glide)
So he’s going to be the voice of reason here, I don’t think we need to worry about a knee-jerk law passing too much.

Reading Broomstick’s comments above makes me feel like the accident was even more of a tragic waste than I already thought it was. If the biggest problem that the pilot faced was approaching an invisible man-made barrier intended to keep little planes out to sight-see separated from densely packed big planes on tight schedules, it makes me want to shake them (both Lidle and Stanger) and say “You know guys, flying is generally safe, but you put yourselves in a situation where if something did go wrong, you were ill-prepared to handle it. And overall, you put yourself in a situation where something was more likely to go wrong”.

Of course, shaking and lecturing is kind of pointless not that they are dead.

And this assumes that the biggest problem they faced was in fact approaching an invisible boundary with significant (potential) consequences for crossing without permission. An assumption I’m comfortable making, but don’t want the NTSB making.

On the other hand, if that is in fact what the biggest problem was, it’s a nice teachable moment for flight instructors. “OK, wanna-be solo pilots, what do you do if you are approaching Class B airspace and can’t get permission to cross it in time?” “Something which will keep you alive long enough to answer for the consequences?” “Good answer”

And silk1976, I’ve been a passenger in a small aircraft before–held six people, counting the pilot. I even got to sit up front–I had my eyes closed during takeoff, and I wouldn’t swear I didn’t close them again before landing. Would I do it again under similar circumstances? Absolutely. Would I be eager to ride in a small airplane just to see the sights? Not really–but it isn’t because I think small aircraft are unsafe, it’s just not my idea of a fun activity. And given my reaction to climbing on ladders, there might be just a hint of fear of heights.

Of course, there is something kind of inconsistant about worrying more about a 45 minute flight in a minute airplane, than a 18 flight in a gigantic airplane . . . but I guess that’s what makes us human.

Superb post(s) as always, Broomstick.

I’d like to add a minor observation. As you mentioned, pilots have a tendency to turn left when in a “gut reaction” scenario. But I was told in a CFI refresher clinic (sorry, no cite) that pilots actually tend to turn to where they have the most visibility. Since the pilot usually flies from the left seat, this results in a left turn. I was told a pilot on the right will turn right when startled (since s/he can see more that direction). This makes it more likely the Mr. Lidle was at the controls, since the CFI (being on the right) would’ve “startled” to the right.

I post this not as a correction, but as anecdotal evidence as to who was actually flying at the time of impact.

That’s a interesting tidbit, pullin. I hadn’t heard it before, and I could certainly see where which side of the airplane you’re on could affect which way you turn.

On the other hand, when flying tandem-seat airplanes, where I’m seated in the center of the fuselage with equal visibility to both sides, I still find myself turning left-left-left. That could simply be habit. Soooo… all other things being equal, pilots tend to turn left, but that can be changed if there’s more visibility to the right?

Could be.