Relating the above anonymously reported windshear landing incident at Wellington, reminds me of another windshear related incident which I experienced "PERSONALLY" .... only on T/O this time.
Again .... somewhat "OFF TOPIC" .... but .... I though I'd share with you all ....
SEA BEE AIR WIDGEON INCIDENT: GREAT BARRIER ISLAND, AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND, OCTOBER 22ND 1984.
GRUMMAN G-44A SUPER WIDGEON ZK-CFA: I did what very nearly became my last ever flight aboard this particular aircraft.
Once upon a time, in downtown Auckland, New Zealand, there was an amphibious airline which operated under the "SEA BEE AIR" title. They're no longer in existence now having ceased operations during the very early 1990's. Sea Bee Air principally serviced the islands of Auckland's Hauraki Gulf, and well as undertaking scenic/tourist flights over the Auckland city region and charters any destination within New Zealand. These operations were an extension of those services first established by New Zealand Tourist Air Travel, then Mount Cook Airlines throughout the 1960's and 70's. By the mid 1980's Sea Bee Air was operating an amphibious fleet comprising of 2 GRUMMAN/McKINNON G21-A GOOSE, and 1 GRUMMAN G44-A SUPER WIDGEON .... powered by 260HP Continental Lycombing engines.
The story I'm about to relate is a true life experience which occurred to me on October 22nd 1984 .... a date which coincided with the airlines anniversary of operations too. It was also the conclusion of a New Zealand holiday weekend. I was scheduled to fly from Great Barrier Island (this shouldn't be confused with Australia's Great Barrier Reef incidentally), where I'd spent some 3-4 days, back to downtown Auckland. A route of some 60km and a flight of normally around 20-30 minutes or so duration .... depending on prevailing conditions.
This particular day dawned with absoloutely attrocious weather which had been steadily deteriorating throughout duration of this particular holiday weekend. Conditions continued worsening throughout the day too .... with a strong westerly gusting to 40-60 knots (plus), intermittent squalls, and a sea chop rising to some 2-3 feet in exposed inlets and bays around the Islands western shoreline .... not a particularly nice day to be flying aboard any small light aircraft.
My flight wasn't scheduled until around 4PM that afternoon. I can't explain why, but, throughout that entire day and prior to my flight I was possessed of this awful feeling of "uneasiness". I couldn't pin it on anything in particular .... it was just "there" .... hanging over me all day like a big dark cloud.
Later that day we crossed by car from the islands eastern to western shore and the picturesque stoney pebble beach of beautiful Whangaparapara Harbour (1 of 3 Great Barrier Island ports serviced by Sea Bee Air's Grumman amphibians). En route to Whangaparapara, and as we traversed surrounding hills above the harbour which geographically separate both shores, we got our first glimpse of this long deep harbour inlet. As soon as I saw the sea condition inside this normally tranquil waterway, as the road descended toward the beach, I felt even more "uneasy", but, refused to show any outward signs of my mounting inward alarm .... I simply refused to giving to such forboding.
Despite the poor weather we stuffed-around on the beach for around 1 hour waiting for our aircraft to arrive .... and not knowing whether the service would be flown by the GOOSE or the WIDGEON. Our aircraft (it was the bloody WIDGEON .... unfortunately) made a particularly spectacular arrival in these conditions. Landing from the direction of the mountains and hills from the east .... flying towards the harbour entrance and gulf out toward the west .... running directly into the strong preavailing winds (an unusual approach for Whangaparapara Harbour which is normally always flown from its western/seaward entrance). As the aircraft approached it quite obviously encounted windshear downdrafting from the sides of the surrounding mountains and hills. Our first indication of its impending arrival was the distinct loud base-toned burst of Continental Lycombing power comming from behind the treeline along the harbours eastern/landward shore, but, the aircraft was still out of direct line-of-sight. Suddenly we saw the WIDGEON emerge from behind and above this treeline as it descended. The aircraft apparently hit the water hard .... as it bounced about 6 feet or more back into the air .... hit the water again .... then skipped to lesser extent several more times more before finally settling on the very rough harbour. It then taxied slowly across the swells to pull up on the stoney beach where we were all waiting. It was a really spectacular arrival to say the least, but, did nothing to shake this awful feeling of "dread" I'd been harbouring throughout that entire day.
The WIDGEON duely stopped on the beach and shut down .... and we waited. The little port side rear fuselage door (nothing more than a hatch really) never opened despite the sound of obvious attempts at doing so by the lone pilot inside. Suddenly this door/hatch flew open with a resounding "CRUNCH". It then occurred to me precisely what the problem was. The wing flaps on a WIDGEON are canvas over metal framework .... a very fragile construction. Fully extended for landing the force of water/spray impacting the flaps during the aircrafts contact with the sea was of such tremendous force it had buckled them to the extent they couldn't be retracted, and of course the flaps on this particular WIDGEON extended partially across this access hatch when fully deployed.
Exiting the aircraft here's our pilot then using shear brute force to bend the flaps back into allignment again using nothing more than the strength of his own bare hands .... hardly a confidence booster. For a brief moment, and still overpowered with this terrible feeling of forboding, I felt extremly reluctant to board the aircraft and almost flatly refused to do so .... but then .... for some silly reason I suddenly thought about B17's returning safely from missions over Europe with their flaps, and rudders blasted away, along with other major damage too (funny how one thinks of things like that at a time like this) .... and I relented .... and boarded the aircraft after this initial moment of hesitation.
There were 5 of us passengers (all related) and 1 pilot whom boarded the Widgeon for the return flight that day .... 6 POB .... and minor weekend baggage for each person too .... a full load for the WIDGEON. I was the last to board and as I did so I casually enquired of the pilot (whom I knew) .... How's the weather up there ? .... I kind of nervously stamoured.
To this day I can still picture the pale strained expression on his face as he replied "BLOODY TERRIBLE" ! .... "LET'S JUST GET TO HELL OUT'A HERE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE PLEASE" !
Upon that brief exchange we all got ourselves seated and buckled in throughout the aircraft. The pilot shut the hatch, then hunchbacked due to the severly restricted confines of the fuselage interior he negotiated his way up through the small narrow cabin to take up the left cockpit seat. He then fired-up, individually, each of the aircrafts 2 Continental Lycombing engines for our departure and return flight back to Auckland city. This part of the flight went really well .... but .... little did I know at the time, although I may have senced it psychically all the while, things were about to change drastically.
We taxied back into the water .... down the ramp and into the damp .... and headed out towards mid channel, riding the swells as we went, then turned to face the fierce gusting westerly for take-off .... intending to run toward the harbours western/seaward entrance. I remember the wind conditions that day created a long rolling chop/swell of some 2-3 feet, and even larger seas were running towards the seaward end of the long harbour inlet. I consequently fastened my seatbelt "REAL TIGHT".
After the pilots customery pre take-off call .... "OK ... ARE WE ALL SET BACK THERE" ? .... followed by everyone elses responses .... "YEP" .... "OK" .... "YEAH" .... "AH HA" .... "YES" .... and from the rearmost seat my own nervous .... "READY HERE - ALL S-S-SET" !
With that our pilot, leaning forward slightly, hugging the yoke/pole with his left forearm .... applying backward pressure as he then straightened his posture .... drawing the yoke/pole slightly toward himself whilst slowly squeezing the overhead throttles forward with his right hand. The Widgeon's 2 Continental Lycombings then roared into life as they began delivering take-off power in response .... a shower of spary and we're away. With our full load the aircraft accelerated slowly .... in fact there seemed to be a hell of a lot of engine noise for precious little acceleration rate I remember thinking at the time as the aircraft rode the first few swells quite comfortably .... like sittig in a floating bathtub. Then from around 30-40 knots the WIDGEON, getting up onto the step, began riding across the white tops of the waves as it continued accelerating .... more power was then applied .... the cabin noise factor increased in proportion to throttle adjustment/power setting to the extent that normal converstion was absolutely impossible for shear volume of engine noise (these aircraft have no sound insulation whatsoever) as we hurtled across the rough white water rasping beneath the aircrafts keel. As we accelerated toward 40-50 knots the aircrafts hull began impacting the tops of waves with an alarmingly velocity (I've used these aircraft a lot, but, never before, or since, have I ever experienced vibration like this). Take-off acceleration continued .... toward 60-70 knots .... as the WIDGEON began porpoising from wave top to wave top.... bang ! .... "THUMP" .... Bang/Bang .... "THUMP" ....Bang/Bang .... "THUMP" ..... as she hurtled on with still ever increasing violence .... the hull impacting each sequence of waves much harder and in quicker succession now as speed increased. By this time I was becomming really alarmed. I remember thinking .... CHRIST ! .... HOW MUCH MORE OF THIS CAN SHE TAKE ! Still our take-off acceleration continued with even more alarming violence. Then passing through 75-80 knots we suddenly copped "A REAL WHOPPER" ! .... the trough of a very large wave/swell .... with the aircraft now going fast enough to skip but still too slow to fly .... there was "ONE HELL OF A BLOODY IMPACT" as the WIDGEON hit the next large wave/swell then bounced several more feet into the air before impacting the sea yet again with even "W-O-R-S-E" violence (it felt like falling into a pot hole on a rough rocky road from several feet high) .... "SHEEEEEEE-YIT" ! .... I thought as we bounced back into the air once more at around 90 knots. We hung there for what seemed like several seconds .... suspended over the white water rushing past us below as the WIDGEON struggled to get airbourne wobbling left and right as it did .... but the aircraft certainly wasn't climbing. I thought we were only around 12 feet off the sea (it's hard to tell when flying over water). The pilot later assured me we were at 50 feet because he said he'd pulled the flap lever by this stage. Suddenly I then felt that awful sickening sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach (akin to riding a rapidly descending elevator). I remember suddenly grabbing my armrest and bracing myself as "HIT THE SEA WE AGAIN DID DO" in somewhat of an awkward attitude .... port wing down a few degrees .... and with an impact velocity like you just wouldn't believe. YEP .... we'd gotten caught in a downdraught comming off the hillside along the harbour shoreline .... a microburst perhaps. One can't possibly even begin imagine how hard the water really becomes combined with the accumulative effects of speed/acceleration captive with the natural forces of an unwanted ROD. This last impact felt like I imagine it might feel like to hit a brick wall, or another vehicle, at around 90-100 mph. The force of the impact was "ABSOLUTELY UNBELIEVABLE" !.... and I really did had a sore lower back for a number of days afterward. Had I known at this particular time there was defintiely going to be an "afterward" then I might have laughed like hell. However .... faced with the situation of not knowing what was going to happpen next the whole situation would hardly hardly rank among the most amusing experiences of my life.
The story doesn't end here though. Looking out to port as we climbed away from the sea I immediately noticed both vertical struts supporting the port side wing tip float (the floats of our WIDGEON were fixed, unlike those of our larger GOOSE aircraft which were retractable) were snapped completly .... with the float now pointing vertically toward the sea and trailing slightly aft in the aircrafts slipstream. I don't recall whether or not this float actually impacted the wing undersides or not, but, it obviously upset the aircrafts flying characteristics to some extent because the nose of the WIDGEON constantly yawed around to starboard .... which had to be contually corrected all the way back. I remember feeling pissed-off that I coudn't reach my camera, in a bag down the back of the cabin, but, for shear strength of the turbulence we were then flying through it was impossible/inadvisable. The busted struts and float would certainly have made an impressive photo to say the very least.
Continuing to roar away from the sea towards 2500-3000 feet. We sheared twice more in the vicinity of the hills but never made the sea this time .... "THANK CHRIST" ! There was no way we could end up back in the drink again with float damage like that. So .... on we managed to climb and fly through some of the most severe turbulence I've ever experienced .... with the aircraft pitching up and down and from left to right. In fact having suffered what we'd just experienced .... followed by this too .... I really thought it was going to be my last ever flight .... one way or the other.
One learns a lot about themselves in situations like these. I'd often previously wondered how I might react if confronted with a serious inflight emergency. I think I found the answer that particular day. After an initial "ping" of absolute fear/terror/dread (only for some 30 seconds or so) I then experienced what I can only describe as sensation of "absolute calmness/peace". I remember thinking .... HMMM .... I wonder what the family's going to say when they recieve news that we're "GONE". OH Well ! ... I just as quickly thought .... there's bugger all I can do about that now is there ! .... and I immediate began to relax and regain my composure despite still feeling "a little inwardly nervous".
This flight should normally have taken some 30 minutes or less. It took some 50 minutes to reach the mainland of Auckland's eastern shoreline. Obviously we couldn't land on the water at Sea Bee Air's downtown base at Mechanics Bay, located on Auckland's Waitemata Harbour, so, we diverted to make a ground landing at Ardmore Aerodrome, some 40km South of Auckland city .... although I didn't know that at the time. Something was then communicated by the pilot (likely our intended diversion. These aircraft don't have a PA system) to the PAX seated in front of me when we were about half way across the Hauraki Gulf. I saw that PAX nod affirmatively and heard him shout "YEP .... OK" over the engine noise and in reply to the pilot. I then inquired of that PAX by leaning forward and shouting over the roar of the engines .... "WHAT DID HE SAY" ? .... to which that PAX, looking about as white as a sheet, simply replied .... "I DUNNO" ! He (the PAX) probably never even comprehended whatever was communicated to him by the pilot in the first instance due to both engine noise and his own obvious state nervousness. I never pressed the matter further.
I then remember having visions, that if we were going to "cream it" at all that day then I though it would probably happen on land .... probably during the approach. On approach into Ardmore Aerodrome we were able to successfully drop the wheels/landing gear and make a perfectly normal ground landing .... AH the versatility of amphibious aircraft. That approach to landing was quite smooth despite the surrounding turbulence. I felt a sensation of shear bloody relief, akin to being relieved of some tremendous weight off my shoulders as we decelerated up the short asphalt runway, with nothing more than a slight shimmying effect. Someone clapped. Someone else then cheered .... whilst someone else yet again called out loudly to the pilot .... "GOOD BOY" ! Our pilot, still donning his headset and microphone, just turned and grinned at us in appreciative acknowledgement. I just sat "QUIET".
As we taxied up to one of offices/aviation workshops/hangars at Ardmore everyone on duty there (just a hanful of engineers and private pilots) lined up outside to witness arrival of the damaged WIDGEON with its load of apparently lucky PAX and PIC. Parking on the concrete apron outside one of the hangars the aircraft was shutdown .... and to be perfectly frank I couldn't get out of the bloody thing quickly enough.
As we exited I couldn't resist inspecting the damage up close and personal from the outside. The thing that astounded me most then (and still does to this very day .... even some 24 years later) is the fact that the "V-shaped" bottom of the damaged float (it's strongest section) had been buckled inwards for some 6-8 inches along a good 2-3 feet of its length as it absorbed impact stresses .... INCREDIBLE I thought. This to me is really indicative of how strong an aircraft is the little GRUMMAN WIDGEON.
X-ray inspections over following days were even more telling .... so I learned later from Sea Bee Air's Chief Pilot (another good friend of mine). He called me at home later during the week. He simply asked me .... "How's your vertibrae" ?
"OK I guess" ! ... I responded positively.
I went down to see him at Sea Bee Air's downtown waterfront base the following day.
He called me into the then empty check-in lounge. Then he said .... "I'm really sorry about what happened out there mate .... BUT .... I truely considered it (the conditions) workable by my own standards and I ordered (the pilot) to do the flight".
I responded saying .... "WELL .... I know it was close, BUT, how close was it really" ?
He then lapsed into a very pensive composure as he leaned forward on the check-in counter. He spoke in a lowered tone as he looked me straight in the eye and said .... "Between you, me, and that fence post out there, you're very lucky to be here at all mate" !
He then elaborated further .... "X-rays on the airframe have indicated that the impact stresses you sustained have bent the aircrafts wing spar, crumpled its center section .... which has consequently delaminated from the hull framework inside .... buckling the skin outwards. Both engine mounts are also cracked, and the natural upward canter of both engines levelled to an almost perfect horizontal axis, as well as the flap and float damage you already knew about".
There was some $40,000 (1984) dollars damage done to the WIDGEON that day as a result of this incident .... insurance covered the rest. The aircraft was then out of service for almost 9 months undergoing repairs. Even when it came back into service the following year it was never again the same .... according to the pilots. Successive operators of ZK-CFA have since told me the whole center section of that aircraft seemed to have been tweaked. They seem amazed to know I knew precisely how that happened .... and even more eager to know exactly what happened when they learn I was indeed a PAX aboard the aircraft when it happened.
The Chief Pilot was flying one of Sea Bee Air's GOOSE out to Waiheke Island that same afternoon. He invited me to join him .... "FREE" .... of course I jumped at the opportuniuty .... who wouldn't. Despite having a nasty fright the week before I thought the best way to return to try to normality again is to confront one's fears directly .... which I did .... and for doing so I was as right as rain again within a short time afterward. Looking back on this inident, I think it does one good to have a nasty fright every so often because it helps one appreciate all the more what a magnificent experience life can be .... generally. My name might have been on the page the day this accident/incident occurred, but, it obviously wasn't at the very top of the list. And what the hell anyway. There's no point in letting little experiences like this scare one off forever. I'm eventually gonna have to die sometime in the future regardless.
I was later told by the airlines boss (another friend of mine) .... "whenever there's a spare seat available just put your name on the PAX manifest, jump aboard, and go for the ride .... if you want to". I did in fact do just that .... many times over. Sea Bee Air was only too relieved the incident never made media or the investigatory attention of the New Zealand Civil Aviation Department. I just kept my mouth shut.
The pilot of this particular flight and myself still communicate occasionally. We often recount the events of this flight. I generally initiate conversation by saying .... "It was a damned good BANG aye (pilot)" ! .... to which he generally always grins as he replies .... "YEAH she was a real bloody BEAUTIE alright" ! He also once told me .... "I never wanted to do that flight, but, against my better judgement I allowed myself to be talked into it. They told me .... "DO THE FLIGHT OR GO HOME .... AND IF YOU GO HOME THEN DON'T CALL US .... WELL CALL YOU" !
The airlines Chief Pilot and myself occasionally talk about the accident too when we meet. When reminded once that I did my very first ever flight aboard a GRUMMAN WIDGEON back in 1968 .... he on that occasion had the last laugh replying .... "YEAH .... WELL YOU VERY NEARLY DID YOUR LAST EVER FLIGHT ABOARD A GRUMMAN WIDGEON TOO MATE" !
Despite poor operational decisions made that day, just to maximise potential revenue during a public holiday weekend, someone higher than "Flight Level THREE- FIVE-ZERO" (or even just TWO-THOUSAND-FIVE-HUNDRED) was definitely watching over me.
Anything less than this and these words simply wouldn't be read now.
Maybe I should have bought a lotto/lottery ticket that same week .... what a pitty I didn't !
Mark CRANSTON
Hope you enjoyed the fright .... ERR I mean flight !
.... I TELL YA .... I WAS TRYING TO GO-AROUND ! 
