Learning to Fly: A Practical Manual for Beginners

by Claude Grahame-White; Harry Harper

There are now certain very important rules which, in the navigation of his craft, he must accustom himself to bear constantly in mind. Should the engine of his machine, for example, betray any signs of failing, he must tilt down his elevator very promptly, and place his craft in a position for a descent. If he does not do this, and should the motor stop before he has his biplane at an angle for descent, the machine may lose speed so quickly, and its tail-planes show such a tendency to droop—owing to the lessening of pressure on their surfaces, consequent upon the failure of the motor—that there is a risk of the craft coming to a standstill in the air and then either falling tail-first, or beginning a side-slip that may bring it crashing to the ground.

The pupil must learn also, and this again is important, not to force his machine round on a turn while it is climbing. If he does so the power absorbed in the ascent, combined with the resistance of the turn, may so reduce the speed of the machine that it threatens to become "stalled," or reach a standstill in the air, with the result that it either side-slips or falls tail-first. The procedure the pupil is taught to follow is this: when he leaves the ground he climbs a little, then he allows his machine to move straight ahead; then he proceeds to ascend again for a spell, repeating afterwards the horizontal flight. In this way he ascends by a series of steps, like climbing a succession of hills in a car; and his turns should be made only during the spells when he is flying horizontally.

In this stage of his tuition, the pupil must learn also to make a vol-plané, or descent with his engine stopped. The essential point to be borne in mind, here, is that an aeroplane will continue in flight, and remain under control, even when it is no longer propelled by its engine. But what the aviator must do, should his engine stop through a breakdown, or should he himself switch it off, is to bring the force of gravity to his aid, and maintain the flying speed of his craft by directing it in a glide towards the ground. Provided he does this, and keeps his machine at such an inclination that it is moving at a sufficient speed through the air, he will find that the craft maintains its stability and that he has full command over its control surfaces, being able to turn, say, right or left, or either increase or slightly decrease the steepness of his descent. But all the time, of course, seeing that it is gravity alone which is giving him his flying speed, he is obliged to plane downward.

PUPIL AND INSTRUCTOR IN FLIGHT (2).
Photo by Topical Press Agency.
This shows clearly how the instructor, from his seat behind the pupil, can lean forward and, by placing his hand on the control lever, check the novice in an error of manipulation.

A vital point to remember, when a pupil is handling a "pusher" type of biplane, is to incline the machine well downward, by a use of the elevator, before switching off the motor. Unless this is done, and if the machine is, say, at its normal horizontal angle when the engine is stopped, the sudden removal of pressure from the tail-planes of the craft, brought about by the absence of the wind-draught from the propeller, may cause the tail so to droop as to render inoperative any subsequent action of the elevator. When the tail droops, the main-planes are set at a steep angle to the air, and this has a slowing-up influence on the whole machine. It threatens therefore to stand still in the air; its controls become useless; and the pupil is faced probably with the danger of a side-slip.

A story will illustrate this point; and it is one that has a special significance, seeing that the error which might have cost him his life was made by an aviator of experience. He had learned to fly on a monoplane, and had devoted his subsequent flying, for many months, to this one type of machine. Then he found himself associated with an enterprise in which a number of "pusher" biplanes were employed, and he decided that it would be useful for him to become accustomed to this type of machine. His flying experience of course helped him, and he soon found himself passing to and fro above the aerodrome, the biplane well in hand. Then he thought he would make a vol-plané, with his motor stopped, as he had been in the habit of doing in a monoplane. He switched off his engine without further thought, and moved his elevator to a position for the descent. But it was here that he made the mistake. In a monoplane, which has the weight of the engine and other gear well forward in the machine, the bow has a natural tendency to tilt down when the motor is cut off—particularly as the propeller-draught ceases to sweep under the sustaining planes. Therefore one can, in such a machine, switch off safely without first shifting the elevator, and getting the bow down as a preliminary. What the pilot had forgotten, for the moment, was the essential difference between monoplane and biplane. When he had switched off the engine in the biplane, and moved his elevator as he was accustomed to do, he found to his dismay that the machine failed to respond. Instead of pointing its bow down, indeed, it began to tilt rearward. Also, and this fact was noted by the airman with even more dismay, the craft lost forward speed so rapidly that it became uncontrollable. The next moment, the pilot helpless in his seat, the machine began a side-slip towards the ground. One sweep it made sideways, falling till it was not far short of the surface of the aerodrome. It paused an instant, then began a side-slip in the opposite direction. But here good fortune came to the pilot's aid. In this second swing, the machine being near the ground, it came in contact with the surface of the aerodrome before the "slip" had time to develop any high rate of speed. The biplane took the ground sideways, breaking its landing-chassis and damaging the plane-ends which came first in contact with the earth. But the pilot emerged from the wreckage unhurt. The accident was a lesson to him, though, as it was to others, and as it should be to all pupils. A machine must be in a gliding position before the engine is switched off.

The art of the accomplished pilot, granted there is no reason for him to reach earth quickly, is to glide at as fine an angle as is possible, consistent of course with maintaining the speed of the machine through the air, and so preserving his command over its controls. A beautifully-timed, fine glide, the machine stealing down gracefully, and touching the aerodrome light as a feather, at a precise spot the airman has decided on even when he was several thousand feet high, is a delightful spectacle for the onlooker, and a keen pleasure also—from the point of view of his manipulative skill—to the aviator himself. But a pupil, at any rate in his first attempts, must not concern himself too much with any idea of a fine or graceful glide. It is his business to get to the ground safely, and not trouble too much whether his method is accomplished, or merely effective. Once with the bow of his machine down, and his motor switched off, it must be his concern to maintain the forward speed of his machine, which can be done only by holding it well on its dive. For the novice, if he attempts any fine or fancy gliding, there is the very real danger that, in his inexperience, he may lose forward speed to such an extent that his controls become inoperative, and his machine threatens to side-slip. One's ear should, apart from the inclination of the machine, and the sensation of the descent, help one materially in judging the speed of a glide. There is a "swish" that comes to the ear, now the engine is no longer making its clamour, which gives a guide to the pace of one's downward movement. Aviators who are skilled, and have done a large amount of flying, are able to judge with accuracy, by the ear alone and without the aid of a mechanical indicator, what their speed is as they pass through the air.