By Christine Lindorff  

Christine lindorff has been mesmerised by flight since she flew in the cockpit of a qantas jetliner when she was just six years old. With her dad neil at the controls and christine strapped into the jumpseat, the experience captivated the wee girl and instilled in her a lifelong dream to be an airline pilot. In the third feature of a series documenting her flying journey, 22-year-old christine takes us through her flying adventures step-by-step and not only describes the challenge of training to be a professional pilot, but also explains why emulating her dad is such a driving force in her life.

BIRDSVILLE
I recently met a man named Paul Brooks. He’d read my articles in Aviator and knew one of my instructor’s, Warren McNally. Paul owns a Piper Saratoga and he kindly asked if I’d like to fly with him to the Birdsville Races. How could I say no to an offer like that? I was just about to start my navigation training and thought: “wow, what an opportunity” – the timing was perfect. Observing an experienced pilot like Paul from the right-hand seat was an awesome way to learn the ropes and attending the Birdsville Races had been an ambition of mine for years. Talk about killing two birds with one stone! After agreeing to join Paul and two friends on his travels, I decided to use the excursion as a learning experience. I decided to complete my own flightplan – as if I was actually the pilot in command - and practice my navigation skills. Well, the skills that don’t involve handling the controls. I don’t have a PPL so I’m not allowed to fly the aeroplane and because Paul is not a qualified instructor, he’s not permitted to instruct me. However, there was nothing stopping me from practising my navigation skills and observing Paul’s airmanship; listening to the radio calls and gaining some crosscountry experience. How lucky was I?

The journey to Birdsville came and went fairly quickly and proved to be invaluable preparation for my own flight training. Being able to experience five hours of navigation practice over remote terrain helped me become more familiar with the busy cockpit environment. Not to mention the actual visit to the Birdsville races, which was an incredible experience. I absolutely love the outback, it’s such a unique lifestyle and my visit there made me realise the opportunities pilots have at their disposal. There are so many places and experiences waiting to happen and I can’t wait to earn my passport to the aviation world!

FIRST AREA SOLO
I achieved a significant milestone soon after Birdsville. My next flight was a trip to the training area and after practising some air work, my instructor sent me on my first area solo. I couldn’t believe it and as I taxied alone towards Runway 17L I had so many emotions happening at once. I thought of my dad and looked at the photo I carried of him as I attempted to battle the nerves. I stared into his eyes and thought: “C’mon dad, help me through this”.

After gaining clearance to takeoff, I applied full throttle and at 65 knots raised the Warrior’s nose. The instant she lifted off the ground a shot of adrenaline rushed through my body. I held my climb until 500 feet then started my checks: fuel pump off, oil temperatures and pressures in the green, and continued my climb. I had a look around my aircraft to make sure everything was in order. Approaching 2000 feet I pulled the power back, set my trim forward three strokes and levelled off.

Then something occurred to me as I looked around. The sun shimmered upon the water and let off a nice calming glow over the bay. The sky was a clear blue with a few little scattered clouds at about 5000 feet. It was peaceful and really hit me how amazing being a pilot actually was. How lucky am I to be doing this? I again thought of my dad at that moment and felt him there in the plane with me. I was officially flying all by myself just like he would have been for the first time many, many years ago as he pursued a career that would ultimately take him to the elite of RAAF test pilot and Qantas captain. I had done it. I was emotional, happy, sad, excited, scared, calm, surprised, relaxed, and mesmerised all at once. I will never forget that moment for the rest of my life.

FIRST NAVIGATION EXERCISE
Moorabbin Airport is quiet. Very quiet. After all, it’s 0600 and the place is virtually deserted. There’s a good chance that my instructor, Moorabbin Flying Service’s Leigh Colbert, and I, are the only silly buggers out here at such an ungodly hour.

This morning I’m flying my first navigation exercise under Leigh’s watchful eye. We’ve been trying to get this nav underway for some time but a combination of poor weather, work and study commitments have succeeded in hijacking our plans.

It’s often said that ground preparation is the key to a successful crosscountry flight and Leigh is one instructor who demands good preparation from his students.

“The fact that the pilot’s attention is divided between flying the aircraft, navigating and completing the radio work, makes the cockpit an extremely busy work environment,” he says. “One where the pilot’s attention may be diverted from any one of these tasks at any time. The demands of flying the aircraft and the limited space in the cockpit leaves little opportunity for precision navigation and for that reason, comprehensive flight planning is a must.”

Before undertaking this flight, I decided to make sure I was as prepared and organised as possible. So I set aside a folder and filled it with anything I could think of that would be important. I typed up a checklist, photocopied from the ERSA the aerodromes relevant to my navex and typed a few basic radio calls and procedures (such as practice forced landings). By the time I’d finished, I was ready to go.

Leigh gave me my first route to plan: Moorabbin to Latrobe Valley via Walkerville. The plan was to land at Latrobe Valley, stretch our legs and then takeoff again and do a few circuits before heading back to Moorabbin.

I slowly started making my way through my checklist. Do I meet recency requirements? Am I familiar with the aircraft? I preflight the aircraft, check the maintenance release and serviceability of aircraft equipment (radios, NDB, clean windows). Are the flight manual, MR, licence and medical on board? Do I need to carry extra oil? As I made my way through my checklist I came to “Weather.”  I logged onto NAIPS and obtained all the weather details required and plotted the drift in with my track to calculate a new heading. But just as I was about to put in the final heading (Latrobe Valley to Moorabbin), I realised I’d made a serious mistake! My tracks were still in true and not magnetic. I hadn’t applied any variation. Such a simple mistake as this that could change the entire outcome of the flight. Feeling stupid, I recalculated and continued with the rest of my checklist. 

I drew tracks on PCA, VNC, VTC, WAC and ERC charts (consider PRD’s  and CTA), plotted weather on the PCA chart, measured tracks and distances and entered them into my flight plan. I drew 10 mile markers from departure and mark halfway points or prominent features, planned the cruise levels (consider CTA, hemispherical levels and terrain), calculated headings and top of descent points, groundspeed, ETI, and completed my fuel plan. We put in our flight plan and I set an alarm on my phone so I won’t forget to cancel my SARTIME. Whew, we’re finally ready to go.

From the ground, Nav 1 is looking good. Now it’s a matter of putting the theory into practice in the most demanding classroom of all – the cockpit. Before long, Master (Leigh) and Apprentice (me) are firmly strapped inside the little Warrior and we depart from Runway 35L, hit 500 feet and perform a climbing turn to the left.

“OK CL, now the first thing we need to do is log our exact time of departure, which is :14,” Leigh says. I note the time on my flight plan. On my map I had marked 10 nautical mile markers all along our track. Going by our current ground speed, we would be achieving 10 nautical miles every six minutes. Looking at my map and the time we should hit our first marker when my watch reaches :20. I notice we’re already passing Carrum so I change my transponder and radio frequency and continue to climb up to our nominated height. So far, so good.

“CL, we need to be doing CLEAROFF checks the whole way there,” Leigh says. “If you ever find yourself not doing anything then you’ve skipped something. There’s always something to do. Lets get our first check out of the way.”

I dig into my brain to remember the CLEAROFF checks Leigh had given me yesterday.

CLEAROFF ... C denotes alignment of the compass and direction indicator. L stands for “Log” time and revise estimate. E merely stands for engine and the pilot must assure the T’s (temperatures) and P’s (pressures) are within the green range. Altitude is next and I make sure the altimeters are set correctly and the altitude is checked. It was fluctuating a little bit so I corrected it with my trim tab. R stands for “radio” and I check that all my frequencies are set and ready to be activated when required. Next is Orientation.

We want to have orientation in terms of exactly where North, South, East and West is and the direction you’re supposed to be flying, using large features to guide you on the correct track. Leigh then suggests I look at the F in the CLEAROFF checks: our fuel situation. We’ve only been airborne a short while so fuel isn’t really a major concern, but we need to know where we’ll be when it’s time to switch tanks. Finally, the second F in CLEAROFF stands for forced landing and I look around and see a bunch of paddocks that would be perfect in the event of an engine failure. I mentally plan what I would do if the Lycoming cut out on me. 

“How was that?” I ask Leigh. “Good, but you need to keep your head outside the aircraft more,” he replies. “Every time you look down at your map you tend to push down on the control column and we lose height.” I look at my altimeter and realise I’ve lost a few hundred feet of altitude. Bummer!

I fly towards French Island and in no time at all we’re over Inverloch. Having visited Inverloch a few times for holidays I know a little bit about the area and the towns in the vicinity. This gives me the advantage of familiarity. I continue with my CLEAROFF checks, pointing out to Leigh towns and reference points and I revise my estimates. I’m starting to get the hang of this, but need to keep my eyes out of the aircraft and stop focussing so much on my map. After overflying Walkerville and changing onto our new heading, we’re fast approaching Latrobe Valley.

I start to get nervous. All the radio calls are coming up and I’m not a fan of radio calls. I can feel my palms getting sweaty as we approach the 10 mile mark. Taking a deep breath, I make a practice call to Leigh and ask him how I’m going. “Sounds good CL, off you go!” he says.

I know I have to stop worrying, do the calls and just hope I can improve with practice. Who would think that one of the scariest things about flying could be using the radio?! Trying to sound confident, I give my radio call and start searching for the aerodrome. Once in sight I start planning what I have to do. The aerodrome height is 180 feet, so if I round that to 200, my overfly height will be 1700 feet and circuit height 1200. I overfly the aerodrome, have a look at the windsock to determine which runway to use, then give my radio call. Descending down to 1200 feet I join a mid downwind and perform my downwind checks: brakes operating and off. Undercarriage down (even though the Warrior doesn’t have retractable undercarriage, I commit this check to memory so that when I fly a retractable undercarriage aircraft I will be prepared), mixture full rich, fuel pump on, check oil temperatures and pressures are in the green, hatches and harnesses fully secure, carburettor heat on. I’m ready to land. I turn base, make another radio call, and engage two stages of flap. I notice I’m a smidgen too high so I reduce my power a little. Ok, time to land. I turn onto final, make my call and set up the plane ready to land. Last stage of flap, carburetor comes off. I feel a little gush of wind hit under the wing, so quickly put in some rudder to compensate. Coming in I draw back the throttle and control column in three smooth motions. One … I feel the sink, two … little more … three … the back wheels gently touch down onto the runway, followed by the nose wheel. Satisfied with my performance, I taxi the Warrior over to the apron and Leigh and I alight the aircraft for a stretch. I’m feeling good and by the time it’s time to go, I’m relaxed and fresh. We start up the Warrior, complete a few circuits and head for home. 

Back on the ground at MFS, Leigh sits me down for my flight debrief. “That was good CL, but you need to keep your eyes outside the plane more,” he says. “It might help if you find larger markers in the distance and on the map and work inwards rather than trying to pick out small towns right next to you. Approach and landings were good, but you need to be doing a lot more CLEAROFF checks. Other than that, good work!”

Still buzzing from the flight, I feel like heading back into the sky. I was a bit rusty and have a bit to learn and tighten up but I also understand how much goes into a nav before we even get into the aeroplane. Having just studied navigation CPL with Lionel Taylor and experiencing a five hour journey to Birdsville, everything tied in together and helped me to progress a lot faster.

Since my first navigation exercise I’ve been cleared to do my first solo nav. So as soon as the Melbourne weather allows, I’ll be winging my way crosscountry all on my lonesome. I have lots of planning to do and I’m preparing as much as I can. All I can say is that there is nothing more that I’d rather be doing than flying. All the hard work and dedication that goes in is worth it once I’m up in the sky. When flying I always take a photo of my dad with me and I know he is watching over me. I hope I’m making him proud.