We ran through an “Airplane!” scenario with the aviation department at the University of North Dakota file_1280x720-2000-v3_1.mp4 Less than a minute into a flight to Omaha, alarms started blaring. From the cockpit, the pilot uttered one worrisome word: “Yikes.” He gripped the side stick, unwittingly disengaging the autopilot, and the plane shot into the clouds. It was a dangerous maneuver for any flight crew member, especially one without any experience. “I have no clue what’s going on,” said Brett Daku, his voice barely registering over the din. Suddenly, WAPO Flight 123 fell silent. Help was on the way. Nick Wilson, an associate professor of aviation at the University of North Dakota, appeared from what would have been first class had we been flying a real plane. He approached the 19-year-old finance major and explained what had happened. “A high-altitude stall is a dramatic event and is broadly avoided,” Wilson said. “You can’t recover from it.” Unless, of course, you are in a flight simulator. Unlike real life, the high-tech training device that replicates the mechanics and challenges of flying has a reset button. It also does not judge or cause harm, except to your ego. In March, we published an article about surveys that showed many Americans think they could land a plane if they had to step in for a commercial pilot. Pilots and aviation experts were less sanguine, though they didn’t outright dismiss the idea. Brett Venhuizen, professor of aviation and chair of the aviation department at the University of North Dakota, in Grand Forks, suggested a way to test the aspirational pilots’ bravado: Stick them in one of the school’s flight simulators. Patrick Miller, a participant in the simulator test at the University of Dakota in Grand Forks, has never flown a plane before. (Andrea Sachs/The Washington Post) Setting up the simulator test At the university’s John D. Odegard School of Aerospace Sciences, students pursuing their pilot’s license log hours in the virtual reality machines. As commercial airline pilots, they will earn their type-rating certification on simulators modeled after specific aircraft. Every six months, they must demonstrate their capabilities to the airline through practice runs in a simulator. For our simulation modeled after an Airbus A320, which typically seats 140 to 170 passengers, our recruits had one objective: to successfully land the aircraft and save everyone onboard. Venhuizen was in charge of rounding up the participants. He chose four men and two women, ages 19 to 67. Four people had zero pilot experience. However, three members of the group (Patrick Miller, Meloney Linder and Daku) had played around with flight simulators and one (Alexa Vilven) had watched YouTube videos of pilots landing planes. We also had two pilots on board: Aaron Prestbo, a physician and recreational pilot from South Dakota, and Brian Dilse, a former airline pilot who worked for a major carrier in Dubai and now teaches at UND. Each participant was separated from the group until their turn, so no one could pick up any tips through observation. At the start of the exercise, Wilson handed each person a boarding pass (Washington Post Airways Flight 123 from Duluth, Minn., to Omaha, a 90-minute flight) and described the scenario: The aircraft’s two pilots were incapacitated for unexplained reasons, and the passenger would have to guide the plane to safety using all the tools available on the flight deck. For the sake of time, he said we would hopscotch over a few steps, such as accessing the code to the locked cockpit, removing the pilots’ bodies and adjusting the seat. He dropped an important hint: The pilots may or may not have been wearing some type of head gear. He was referring to the headset, an essential piece of equipment for communicating with ground personnel. Everyone entered the scene at the same point in the flight and with identical conditions. The plane was flying level at 20,000 feet, with overcast skies at 1,000 feet, calm winds and no rain in the forecast. The sky was eerily empty. And with that, Wilson wished the pilots good luck. How the novices did in the simulator Unlike nearly a third of the respondents in a YouGov survey from January, none of the novice pilots in our experiment claimed to be confident they could land a plane. Miller, a 67-year-old communications editor at UND, said his interest in World War II plane simulators might help, but he worried that he would crumble during landing. When asked if he would jump up to assist in an emergency, Daku, the college student, said he would see if another passenger would volunteer first. If no one did, he’d step in with low expectations. “Probably I will end up crashing the plane,” he said, “but who knows?” Miller was the first to fly and he immediately started asking questions, even though he had not put on the headset. Wilson and Matt Opsahl, a UND instructor, broke scene to reply. Eventually, they ceased all communication. “You’re not answering any of my questions,” Miller said, as he squinted at the primary flight display. “I’m fully on my own.” Miller porpoised through the clouds, ascending and descending several thousand feet. Thankfully, the simulator didn’t have the full motion feature, or at least one of us would have needed a bucket. Alarms shrilled and chirped after he disengaged the autopilot and hit the service ceiling, preventing the plane from flying any higher. Wilson entered the cockpit with the bemused-but-patient expression of a pee-wee coach. “This could go on for as long as we have fuel,” he said, “which could be four or five hours.” To move the test along, the instructors programmed the coordinates to the Minneapolis airport, the site of our emergency landing. Below, the flat Midwestern landscape fanned out to the fake horizon. Miller switched to manual and the plane wobbled like a baby bird thrown from its nest. The aircraft thumped to the ground but continued to roll over another runway and into what appeared to be a field. “It’s unlikely that the gear would be intact,” Wilson said. But on the bright side: We would have all survived. Result: Success Meloney Linder takes a seat in the flight simulator. (Andrea Sachs/The Washington Post) Linder, a 51-year-old vice president of communications and marketing for UND, made several smart decisions from the get-go, such as slipping on the headset and, for the most part, remembering to press the radio transmitter button when speaking. “WAPO123, this is Minneapolis ATC,” Opsahl said in his role as an air traffic controller. “We noticed that your altitude is deviating a lot. If you’re on comms, respond please.” She also made several mistakes, including a biggie that ended the game. “Oh, crap!” she exclaimed when an automated message warned, “Stall, stall, stall.” “I’m crashing.” In addition to deactivating the autopilot, Linder stalled, meaning the wings can no longer produce a lift, and banked, or caused the aircraft to list to one side — a hopeless situation. “I have so much respect for my pilots right now,” she said. Result: Fail Watching YouTube tutorials paid off for Vilven, a 31-year-old accountant for the university. Without missing a beat, she reached for the headset and called for help. Air Traffic Control: “Is there an emergency?” Vilven: “I believe so.” Air Traffic Control: “Are you able to fly the aircraft?” Vilven: “Uh, no.” Air Traffic Control: “WAPO123, we’re going to do our best to help you.” Vilven: “Gotcha.” Opsahl and Wilson, who was pretending to be a pilot sharing the same airspace, provided Vilven with the altitudes and air speeds needed to approach the Minneapolis runway. With their guidance, she lowered the flaps to slow the aircraft and dropped the landing gear. When she was within shouting distance of the runway, they advised her to deactivate autopilot. “I think I’m too high,” she said, as she missed the runway and the plane started to ascend. “I’m going up. I’m in the clouds.” A warning system activated: “Bank, bank, bank.” Air Traffic Control: “We don’t know what WAPO is doing.” Result: Fail Brian Dilse, a commercial airline pilot who teaches at UND, was a pro in the cockpit. (Andrea Sachs/The Washington Post) How the recreational pilot did in the simulator Before entering the simulator, Prestbo, a 47-year-old physician, said he would volunteer to land a plane in emergency, just as he would raise his hand to help an ill passenger. But he had a few concerns, which he later admitted had caused his leg to shake inside the simulator. “I am more confident about flying versus landing,” said Prestbo, who earned his private pilot’s certificate in 1997 and flies single-engine planes for fun. He was also worried about the unfamiliar dials, switches and levers in the cockpit. “This is out of my comfort zone,” he said as searched the panel for the radio. Luckily, he found it and connected with air traffic control and the other pilot. The pair fed him information each step of the way. Less than a half-hour into the flight, the sky started to brighten and the ground materialized below. A few miles from the runway, he disconnected the autopilot. “Okay, I have control, such that it is,” he said. “It’s real now.” The plane swayed slightly, but two minutes later, it was solidly on the ground. It took much longer for his leg to relax. Result: Success How the commercial pilot did in the simulator Dilse, who has cargo and passenger flight experience, was the one participant who had every right to be confident. And yet he wasn’t. When presented with the imaginary scenario, the 39-year-old responded, “Hopefully there is someone that actually worked for the airline and was more experienced than me with the airline. I’m not going to be the first one to jump and say, ‘I’m here to save the day.’ I’m not going to be a superhero.” He was also uncomfortable with the idea of flying solo. “You need two pilots to operate this aircraft,” he said. “So when you ask if I feel confident, I’d be lying if I said yes.” Even so, he approached the mission with a high level of professionalism and self-possession. He practiced the guiding principles of flying — aviate, navigate and communicate — and followed the advice of a British Airways instructor who recommends taking five seconds to sip “your tea” to avoid making any rash decisions. Dilse’s advanced aviation skills allowed him to tap into the plane’s sophisticated navigational and technical systems. Unlike the other pilots, he also considered a multitude of factors that could influence the outcome, such as the amount of fuel, the weather at the Minneapolis and Omaha airports, and the maximum landing weight. For his own safety, he wondered what had caused the pilots to fall ill. Depending on the answer, he might need to wear a gas mask or avoid the chicken entree. He also requested medical services to meet the plane on the runway. When he could see the ground, he set the autobrake and informed air traffic control that he could take it from here. “I’m pretty comfortable with what’s happening now,” he said. Dilse landed the plane as smoothly as a butterfly alighting on a leaf. He stopped the aircraft and cut the engines. Then he activated the PA system and spoke to the passengers. “Ladies and gentleman,” he said calmly, “everyone please remain seated.” Result: Success Takeaways from the simulations Based on our simulator experiment, no inexperienced traveler should ever volunteer to land a plane in an emergency. Even with a prodigious amount of guidance, which Wilson said was highly improbable in a real-life scenario, our recruits still cratered. However, if there are no other options, remember these invaluable lessons. Never disengage the autopilot (don’t move the side stick or press the red button). Put on the headsets and hold the switch when you speak. And take five seconds to sip your proverbial tea. The private pilot, who flew the plane with a clear head, deft hand and trembling leg, surprised the experts. “I didn’t think it was gonna go that well at all,” Opsahl said. As expected, the former airline pilot aced the test. “He did all the things that you would expect a professional aviator to do,” Wilson said, “and that led to a successful, honestly, relatively boring sequence of events compared to our other participants.” In the event of an airplane emergency, we can all hope for boring.
