WHAT HAPPENED
I had not sat, let alone flown, right seat in many years. Now I had no choice. There was nothing I could do but relax and concentrate.
AIRWORTHINESS
Slip sliding away
Properly engaging the seat rail
Reports of seats slipping on the rails in certain older Cessna airplanes—including during accidents—led the FAA to issue an airworthiness directive in 1987 requiring inspection and repairs to seat rollers, pins, and rails on affected aircraft. A new AD added steps and clarified procedures in 2011.
Airworthiness directives are issued to correct an unsafe condition in a product such as an aircraft, engine, propeller, or appliance.
At the end of August 2018, I was able to get into the cockpit after a hiatus. I went up with a pilot friend a couple of times just to get back my feel of the aircraft, a 40-year-old Cessna Skyhawk available from Aerodynamic Aviation at California’s Monterey Regional Airport. I needed my arms and legs to remember what I hadn’t used them for in three years.
Then, I connected with a fine CFI, Tom Woodruff, for the purpose of making sure I had buffed up the skills I needed to fly by myself. I did so well that Tom signed me off after our first hour together. We went out several more times so I could get more comfortable.
In mid-January, I flew my second solo. The weather on the Monterey Peninsula was lovely. My plan was to go to Hollister, a flight of only 28 miles that I would fly at 3,000 feet, shoot a touch and go, and return to Monterey.
As I was getting comfortable after the preflight, the pilot’s seat seemed loose, but it felt locked. It turned out it wasn’t, but that did not become clear until I took off at Hollister. The seat slid back, and my feet couldn’t reach the rudder pedals. I pulled the nose up and climbed to 3,000 feet. Then carefully taking hold of the top of the panel, I pulled myself closer.
Once level, I tried to click the seat into place, but it wouldn’t lock. I realized I had to get myself over to the right seat because I would need the pedals to steer and brake when I landed at Monterey. I undid the right seat belt, and then, unthreading the headset cord, which had gotten snarled in my shoulder harness, released myself from the left seat.
ATC had trouble hearing me when I had departed Monterey, and I had switched to the second radio. I didn’t want to risk the communications I had by switching to the right-seat inputs. Then I slipped over to the right seat, belted myself in, and called ATC. I didn’t tell them about changing seats.
I had not sat, let alone flown, right seat in many years. Now I had no choice. There was nothing I could do but relax and concentrate. I also faced another unfamiliar factor. The wind was coming in from the northeast, something it rarely did with the airport close to Monterey Bay, and it meant I would be coming in on Runway 10 Right. I was handed off to Monterey Tower and headed west over the water, planning for a long final approach.
The next surprise was the tower telling me to make a left three-sixty on my far-away base for a small commercial airplane that was arriving. No problem. But then the tower warned me of wake turbulence and switched me over from the longer 10R (7,175 feet) to the shorter 10L (3,503 feet).
I was not happy with the change. There was an 8-knot crosswind and I was far enough out that the CRJ would be long off the runway by the time I would touch down. I told the controller that I had a mechanical problem and he gave me 10R.
Luckily, all my challenges were behind me. I made a good landing and taxied up the ramp to parking.
This may not seem like a big deal, but to me it was. I was pleased that I had handled the situation calmly and effectively. It provided a feeling of confidence that had been missing, and probably why I had waited to solo.
Tony Seton is a pilot, journalist, and author who lives on the Monterey Peninsula in California.
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