A Little Bit of Everything! - Navigation Flight Test

"Oh crap. Slow down"

"Sh*t Manny, that turbulence came out of nowhere!"

"Yeah, we're now in the lee side of those mountains and hills."

"Right. I'm going to give it some beans and climb above all of this nonsense. This is the worst turbulence I've experienced!"

Well, today was the big day.  Today's flight test stood between me and the possible adventures throughout the rest of Australia.  I'd been studying furiously, reading and re-reading textbooks, familiarising myself with maps and looking at related topics on the interwebs.  Manny had said that I had been going well through my nav training, and navigation is in some respects the easy part.  The difficult part, and the part that has gotten people in trouble throughout history was making good, well considered decisions and acting upon them without delay.  This was going to be the true test.

A couple of days ago, Manny told me to come by the hangar and pick up a map that he would have "made some adjustments to".  He explained that there would be some added imaginary 'controlled airspace steps' to an airport that doesn't normally have them.  "Oh, and there'll be some other scenarios thrown in, too".  I wasn't sure what that would mean.  Images of all sorts of made-up scenarios filled my head for the couple of days leading up.

When I picked up the map, it was clearly marked.  The route was from Ballarat, to a tiny little town just North East of Wedderburn called Korong Vale, to Stawell and back to Ballarat.  However, Stawell had two controlled airspace steps extending out ten and twenty miles at 2400 feet and 3500 feet respectively.  I would have to make sure I approached it in such a way that I don't bust this airspace.

There was also one more marking on the map.  A large, dark dashed line running North/South running from Buangor to Landsborough, splitting the Pyrenees in two.  I asked what this line indicated (I figured that it would be something like a bad weather front or something similar), however Manny just smiled and said, "That's going to form part of the scenario."  Oh goody!  I took the map home and prepared my route as per usual - but making sure to double-checked everything.  The weather prediction mentioned late rain, so the decision to fly could go either way depending on how late the rain decided to be.

Preparing the route.

This morning, I got up to find clear blue skies.  Good so far!  I printed out the weather details and any NOTAMS, then plugged the wind calculations into my flight plan.  The METAR predicted a gusty wind later in the day - gusting up to 26 knots!  That won't be pleasant.  I looked at the radar.  A large band of cloud and rain extended from South Australia down to Flinders Island.  Ahead of this front was the gusty winds.  I figured if we can get at least one leg done of the trip, we can always divert straight back home, fly the other legs and pick up those assessment points another day.  Manny agreed, so we readied the aircraft and blasted off into the wild blue yonder.

From the hangar, looking North East.  The high level cloud associated with the front could already be seen.

The route.

I departed straight out from runway 36 and during climb out I became aware that I was being very quiet.  We cruise-climbed up to my planned altitude of 4500 feet.  Things were going well, but I was concentrating very hard to ensure I was covering everything.  That eventually disappeared as I got into the groove and more natural cockpit chatter flowed.  Once we'd reached our cruise altitude, I looked West, over towards the Pyrenees and saw that all of the tall peaks were obscured by cloud.

"Ha!  That's exactly like the line you put on the map!" I said.

"Yep, couldn't have planned it better if I tried. Make sure you keep an eye on that, it will definitely come into play later on in the flight." replied Manny.

The towns of Clunes slipped below us and we eventually got to my half-way checkpoint at Maryborough.  The check is used to not only check whether we are on track, but also on time.  In this case, we were perfectly on time, but about three or four miles to the East - closer to the township of Carisbrook.  I instantly applied a Standard Closing Angle Correction and it wasn't long before we were right back on track.  Everything was going well at this stage.  The air was smooth and clear, and the mid-level cloud that was around the North of Ballarat gave way to brilliant blue skies.

Flat, featureless terrain.  The clouds building all the time.

Part of the reason Manny got me to fly to this small town in this particular area is because it is fairly featureless terrain.  As we headed North, there became less and less mountains and hill features to follow.  As part of the test, I am allowed to refer to the GPS for confirmation - but only if I have a fairly certain ded-reckoned position first.  At this stage I didn't need to look at it (apart from the odd glance down to see the ground speed), but it would come in handy a little later.

Once our planned time for the leg was getting close, I could make out Wedderburn - owing to the racecourse shining brightly in the sunlight right in the middle of town.  Korong Vale was about 5 Nautical Miles North East of Wedderburn, so I positively identified it and headed straight towards it.  I turned the long way around overhead the town, set course for Stawell and re-started the timer.

This track would bring us close to St Arnaud, so I would have to make a position call to the CTAF.  As we got close to the township, I gave my call and continued on.  This CTAF is a common frequency that extends from Maryborough to airfields as far as Swan Hill, so I had to be very clear about where I was talking about.  A few moments later, Manny asked me if I could point out where the aerodrome would be.  I hadn't spotted it yet, but from the map I figured it would be on a major road out of town.  There was one road moderately in the shape on the map, so I figured it would be not far from it.  I started describing it's potential location:

"See this road that comes out of town and sweeps to the right and then heads out to that lake?" 

"Yep."

"Well, I rekon it's just where that bend is."

Just as I said it, from behind the windscreen pillar came the aerodrome into view.  Much closer than I was trying to describe.

"Or... It might be just there!", I said... Slightly red-faced.  Manny laughed and admitted that it took him a few moments to see it too.

Beyond St Arnaud was a lot of featureless terrain.  Very flat, very similar as far as the eye could see.  I got a little nervous for a couple of minutes, but I didn't let on to Manny (or at least I hoped!).  I knuckled down and really tried to fly an accurate heading and before long, two distinctive small hills loomed into view.  Phew, crisis averted.  ...Wait, what's that over Stawell?  Giant rain clouds had enveloped the Grampians and Stawell was not visible.  The shaft of heavy rain could be seen in the clouds.

"I'm not happy with that.  We're not going there today!"

"Good.  Ok, what's the plan then?"

After a few moments of thought I figured that it is better to head back to somewhere we know is in fine weather.  The two main options were St Arnaud and Maryborough.  St Arnaud would mean that we were heading away from Ballarat and the front could move in while we were up there.  Not a good thing.  I figured that diverting straight to Maryborough would be a better option.

"Good show.  What's our new heading?"

"I make it to be about 110 degrees."

"Ok.  Fly it, and when you can, give me an approximate time for Maryborough."

I looked ahead to the Northern parts of the Pyrenees.  Cloud was hanging just above the peaks.  Not a lot of clearance for us to go straight over safely.  I opted to go through the valley and lower ground.

The rains are coming! Looking West, towards Stawell.

 That's when it hit us.  The turbulence from the remaining hills to the North was throughout the valley.  The plane bucked left and right.  Tipped up and down.  It had happened really quickly.  That's when Manny sat bolt upright and reminded me to slow down (to manoeuvring speed), which I did as quickly as I could.

"Wow, that was a wake up call!"

"Sure was.  Well done.  Ok, get us to Maryborough."

I popped out the other end of the valley and saw a town off to our right.  I was moderately sure that it was Avoca, but I wasn't game to go on that until I had confirmed it.  Pointing the nose of the aircraft slightly to the left of the town, it wasn't long before I could make out the large railway line right up it's middle.  From there I followed the Avoca - Maryborough railway line until the airfield loomed into view. We swung to the North to join downwind at 45 degrees and completed a couple of gusty crosswind circuits.

On final, runway 35. (Don't worry, Manny was flying this one!)  The gusts made for a challenging landing.

A house just outside the airport boundary fence - with their own helipad, complete with helicopter!

Climbing out of Maryborough, we set course for home.  At this time, we'd flown over two hours and I was glad to be getting back to familiar surroundings.  Manny kindly took some photos as I levelled out for cruise.  Looking West, the situation was getting worse.  More rain, more wind, much less visibility.  Looks like I made the right decision!

Homeward bound!  Nearly done now.

As I was making my preparations for arrival at Ballarat (tuning AWIS, working out inbound call calculations, etc), we heard an inbound call on the CTAF advising that they were coming from the South, tracking for Mildura.  We looked at each other and giggled, knowing that he had some fun ahead of him.

We're home!   On low level downwind for runway 36. Manny wanted to do one landing himself.

I joined downwind for runway 36, went through my pre-landing checks and set up for landing.  The gusts had reached Ballarat it seems.  The wind gusts, plus the rotors caused by the hangars made for a very challenging approach.  Lots of sink, which required a lot of power to overcome.  I touched down quite softly on the upwind wheel and let out a big sigh of relief.  It was almost over.  I just had to taxi back and shut down.

I stepped out of the aircraft and almost fell over, thanks to my jelly legs.  Wow, at almost three hours it was a lot of flying.  We pulled the aircraft back into the hangar and I sorted out my admin while Manny signed my logbook and associated paperwork.  He told me that I did a well above average job and was very happy with my decision-making skills.  I was overjoyed, elated and exhausted at the same time.  It was an amazing experience, and I look forward to the adventures in the future.

The logbook entry!

For those that might not know exactly what this all means: I now am qualified to fly a Recreational Aircraft with one passenger anywhere in Australia that isn't controlled airspace.  That's a lot of area to explore.  I'd better hop to it!

Thanks for reading.