Water-skiing at 100,000 pounds - Netherlands Royal Navy flight maneuver off Lajes, Azores - Column - Statistical Data Included - Evaluation

Approach, Jan, 2002 by Drew Mitchell

I was halfway through my two-and-a-half-year exchange tour with the Dutch Navy, flying P-3s. While their training is based directly on our NATOPS and training procedures, there are some differences. But I had gotten up to speed with the Dutch way of doing things in the aircraft, and life was good.

We were on our way to Curacao, in the Caribbean, from Holland, with an overnight stop in Lajes, Azores. Trading the European winter for New Year's in the Caribbean sounded great to me. The first leg would last about five hours. The weather brief mentioned the possibility of strong crosswinds at Lajes, but how bad could it be?

About two-thirds into the flight, I noticed the No. 4 engine was down to four gallons of oil. The flight engineer said that it had seven gallons at the beginning of the flight. There were no visible leaks and no history of No. 4 consuming oil. We discussed our options: continue to Lajes or turn back to Valkenburg (home plate). According to the weather briefs, Lajes had the better weather. With snow and high winds, Valkenburg had low visibility forecast all day, while Lajes had the possibility of strong crosswinds. At the current rate of oil loss, there would be two gallons of oil left on arrival at Lajes but none left if we turned back to Valkenburg, which would require a three-engine landing if we kept it running. This is something I wanted to avoid doing at night, in bad weather, if there was another option available. The temperature at altitude was well below freezing, so any prolonged shutdown with intent to restart was not a good idea. One of our propeller seals could freeze, causing leakage during a restart and causing more serious problems. We discussed the situation, and I decided to continue to Lajes.

On our initial descent into Lajes, winds at 2,000 feet were from 240 degrees, gusting 50-to 70-knots. At the approach end of the runway, winds were from 230 degrees at 18 knots, with a wet runway. With runway 15 in use, the crosswind was 80 degrees offset. The maximum-crosswind component for the P-3 is 35 knots, and with a wet runway, it goes down to 22.5, and with standing water, it is less than 20 knots. The winds at the middle of the field and departure end were not given. The forecast weather for our alternate, Montijo, Portugal, about two hours away, was gusty winds and thunderstorms for our arrival time. I really wanted to see what the actual conditions were before proceeding to our alternate. We briefed the approach and landing. We discussed crew responsibilities, windshear, crosswind limits, crosswind effect on the aircraft, and go-around options.

At 2,000 feet and 7 miles in light rain, we saw the runway just before intercepting the ILS glide slope. Except for the wind, the weather was better than I expected. We asked approach if there had been any landing traffic so we could get an actual weather report, but with no scheduled flights, the answer was no. There was, however, a civilian 737 taxiing for takeoff, which we took as a sign the wind was as reported on the runway. We continued on a long straight-in. At short final, roughly over the cliff that makes up the approach end of runway 15, we were at 100 feet and, as reported, the wind died down to a manageable crosswind. A five-to seven-degree right wing down and left-rudder input held us nicely on centerline for about four to five seconds. With approach speeds of 138, we were at 145 to 150 knots (extra airspeed for the gusty approach), stabilized at 100 feet (our pre-briefed visual-decision altitude). The moment of truth what should I do? Divert? Go around for a second pass? Land the airplane? I chose the latter option.

Several factors influenced this decision: an unfavorable weather forecast, high winds with rain and thunderstorms forecast at our alternate, and the probability of having to make a three-engine night landing at an unfamiliar and busy terminal area. Also, my copilot had many flight hours in helicopters but only recently had qualified in the P-3 (the Dutch fly with only two pilots on all crew days less than 12 hours). Everything considered, divert was an unattractive option.

Out the corner of my eye, I could see the 737 was holding short to takeoff. If he thought it's good enough to take off, it's OK to land, right? Being stabilized above the runway at 100 feet and in position to land, the decision to land was easy to make.

I pulled power and entered the flair. We touched down with less than 7,000 feet of runway remaining. I felt relieved; for a few moments. I was pushing forward with right yoke and began to reverse the props, making sure I was below 135 knots to prevent inadvertent pitchlock while moving the power lever from the flight range to the ground range. I looked for four beta lights before using full reverse when, suddenly, a gust of wind hit us from the right. The nose of the plane skewed to the right, getting my full attention. I estimate the nosewheel had been on the ground for three seconds with the full aircraft weight on the wheels. Apparently there was standing water on this part of the runway, along with a lot more crosswind. I began water skiing, courtesy of dynamic hydroplaning, in a 100,000-pound aircraft at about 125 knots. The amount of turn caused by the gust of wind was 40 to 45 degrees: We were heading 190 to 195 degrees on runway 15.