“That’s not good,” Editor in Chief Kollin Stagnito said matter-of-factly in the traffic pattern at our destination airport. Kollin was pilot in command for this business trip in AOPA’s Beechcraft Bonanza, and I was in the right seat scanning for traffic. His comment jolted my attention to my left, and I saw avgas streaming from the wing where the fuel cap should have been.
Had the cap been improperly secured after refueling? I’d watched Kollin check fuel levels and secure the caps at our last stop, so it seemed unlikely. No use speculating now. Kollin confirmed the fuel selector was set to Right, broadcast our position on the common traffic advisory frequency (CTAF), and set up for a normal landing. On final approach, he recited the GUMPS checklist aloud, noting that oversights like gear-up landings often start with distractions such as this. We later discovered the locking tabs on the fuel tank filler neck had broken and were able to depart the next day after our mechanic overnighted us a new assembly.
As passengers, we place a lot of trust in the pilot in command (see “First Impressions,”) to operate safely and handle the unexpected. In a cockpit where both front-seaters are pilots, one is still PIC. The other’s role is to help, learn, and stay out of the way.
In this situation, there was little for me to do except monitor the bustle of student traffic around us and back up the memory items. But a fellow pilot in the right seat can be an asset for both routine flights and abnormal situations. Kollin had loaded the airplane for this long day of flying to seat me up front and the nonpilot passengers in back, to call on me as needed as another cockpit resource.
When instrument conditions linger along the East Coast, rapid radio transmissions and reroutes add to the task saturation of pilots flying in the soup. A second pilot can reduce the workload and fatigue of busy IFR flights. For most of our trip from Maryland to Florida, Kollin and I divided duties, with one pilot flying while the other handled radios. This isn’t two-pilot operations as you would see in airline flying, but it requires the same clear communication of who does what.An open seat is an opportunity to learn.
Even when the second pilot is along for the ride, an open seat is an opportunity to learn. As a student pilot, I tagged along on a long IFR flight to EAA AirVenture and absorbed the cadence and format of ATC communications. Talking to ATC didn’t seem quite so intimidating, and this and other flights laid the groundwork for an instrument rating down the road. I’m not checked out in the Bonanza, so the Maryland-to-Florida trip also gave me exposure to leaning procedures in the IO-550-B engine and the nuances of the avionics package; while on radio duty, I used quiet moments to explore the weather menus of the Garmin GTN 650.
I was happy for more experience with the Bonanza and in the IFR system even if it couldn’t be logged, but after the return flight with Kollin, I called AOPA’s aviation technical support team and got a happy surprise. As the pilot qualified in the retractable-gear Bonanza, Kollin was acting as the PIC throughout the flight, which I knew. But as a pilot rated for single-engine land airplanes, I could log the time I was the sole manipulator of the controls. Kollin and I reviewed the flights to determine which portions I would log and which he would.
Importantly, flights in the co-pilot seat aren’t instruction. An extra pilot should be a net positive—no distracting chatter or tinkering with the GPS screen when the PIC is searching for a waypoint.
I wrote in “Flying Solo” (June 2024 Flight Training) about what pilots gain from time alone in the cockpit. Flying with another pilot provides a different set of benefits. Two-pilot operations and their general aviation corollary are an exercise in collaboration, requiring trust and communications on both sides. In return, pilots receive backup and assistance during high-workload phases and opportunities for growth and development—and good company. FT
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