It was with some degree of embarrassment when I realized what I’d done during the fly-out at the Wilmington convention in 2003. I was the “lead” aircraft of a 5-plane gaggle to take-off together from ILM to the Kill Devil Hills event, and for some reason I was “elected” to be the lead aircraft... perhaps because the rest of the gaggle was under the
mis-impression I was paid at my regular job as a pilot so therefore I must be the “professional” in the group...therefore should lead. Not sure why they leapt to that deduction but their error was quickly proven ,,,and soon over-shadowed by my own.
I had planned Jamie and I to be alone in our B-model and we had been topped off with fuel two days earlier when we arrived in order to avoid any delays at the end of convention. I didn’t consider this two days later when Ol’ Gar (flyguy) approached me and asked if he and Deanna could ride-along on the flight up the Cape to the fly-out. So, as all 5 of us taxied into position and were cleared for take-off you might imagine my horror as I suddenly became aware of the lack of acceleration on that near 100-degree day.
To top that off, the No. 2 aircraft in the gaggle was Harold Holiman in his C-180... who was airborne in the first 500 feet... then the other three 170s who were airborne soon-after... while their brain-dead “leader” was still solidly on the pavement 1500-feet later and trying to accelerate.
The full fuel, 500 lbs of Ol’Gar and me sitting in front of another 250+ (To be kind to the ladies) sitting in the back-seats (not to mention the 40 lbs of survival gear and life-vests I always carried in the baggage on long trips) placed us at least 300 lbs over gross, and the only reason ol’ 146YS with it’s
cruise-pitched-prop flew at-all that day was
curvature-of-the-earth. .
Our departure instructions were to turn-right immediately after takeoff to a 050 heading, but while trying to gain sufficient speed to enable a climb out of ground-effect and with the stall warning occasionally squeaking I dared not initiate a turn. A mile off the departure end I called departure and got chewed-out for not being on assigned heading and I could only imagine what my followers were thinking of their elected-leader as we were all monitoring the same frequency of course.
I don’t recall how many miles of swamp passed beneath the wings before we finally achieved our cruise altitude of 3500’ but I do recall how flushed my face felt as I silently cursed myself for allowing this to happen. None of my group ever mentioned it to me, probably out of professional-courtesy. At least the
rest of the group was professional...and courteous enough to just let it be.
Did it make a memorable event for me? You bet it did! In fact I was so mentally shook up thinking about it the rest of the day that is my only excuse for what happened on our return....
... because about the only thing that could possibly top that off.. was when I again led the gaggle on the return to ILM and were cleared to land on Rwy 24, and as I saw the pavement in front of us all neatly lined up about on 1/4-mile final....I FINALLY beginning to feel
relieved the horrible day of my sorry-performance was about to successfully be ended.... Harold’s voice came over the tower fequency.... “George, you realize that you’re landing us on Runway ONE-SEVEN don’t you? ....
N146YS: (expletive deleted)
ILM Tower: “Flight of Five, cleared to land on ANY runway!”