-
Making the Brazilian ATR-72 Spin
by
No Comments
Note: This story was corrected on August 10th at 10:23 am, thanks to the help of a sharp-eyed reader.
Making an ATR-72 Spin
I wasn’t in Brazil on Friday afternoon, but I saw the post on Twitter or X (or whatever you call it) showing a Brazil ATR-72, Voepass Airlines flight 2283, rotating in a spin as it plunged to the ground near Sao Paulo from its 17,000-foot cruising altitude. All 61 people aboard perished in the ensuing crash and fire. A timeline from FlightRadar 24 indicates that the fall only lasted about a minute, so the aircraft was clearly out of control. Industry research shows Loss of Control in Flight (LOCI) continues to be responsible for more fatalities worldwide than any other kind of aircraft accident.
The big question is why the crew lost control of this airplane. The ADS-B data from FlightRadar 24 does offer a couple of possible clues. The ATR’s speed declined during the descent rather than increased, which means the aircraft’s wing was probably stalled. The ATR’s airfoil had exceeded its critical angle of attack and lacked sufficient lift to remain airborne. Add to this the rotation observed, and the only answer is a spin.
Can a Large Airplane Spin?
The simple answer is yes. If you induce rotation to almost any aircraft while the wing is stalled, it can spin, even an aircraft as large as the ATR-72. By the way, the largest of the ATR models, the 600, weighs nearly 51,000 pounds.
Of course, investigators will ask why the ATR’s wing was stalled. It could have been related to a failed engine or ice on the wings or tailplane. (more…)
-
How the FAA Let Remote Tower Technology Slip Right Through Its Fingers
by
No Comments
In June 2023, the FAA published a 167-page document outlining the agency’s desire to replace dozens of 40-year-old airport control towers with new environmentally friendly brick-and-mortar structures. These towers are, of course, where hundreds of air traffic controllers ply their trade … ensuring the aircraft within their local airspace are safely separated from each other during landing and takeoff.
The FAA’s report was part of President Biden’s Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act enacted on November 15, 2021. That bill set aside a whopping $25 billion spread across five years to cover the cost of replacing those aging towers. The agency said it considered a number of alternatives about how to spend that $5 billion each year, rather than on brick and mortar buildings.
One alternative addressed only briefly before rejecting it was a relatively new concept called a Remote Tower, originally created by Saab in Europe in partnership with the Virginia-based VSATSLab Inc. The European technology giant has been successfully running Remote Towers in place of the traditional buildings in Europe for almost 10 years. One of Saab’s more well-known Remote Tower sites is at London City Airport. London also plans to create a virtual backup ATC facility at London Heathrow, the busiest airport in Europe.
A remote tower and its associated technology replace the traditional 60-70 foot glass domed control tower building you might see at your local airport, but it doesn’t eliminate any human air traffic controllers or their roles in keeping aircraft separated.
Inside a Remote Tower Operation
In place of a normal control tower building, the airport erects a small steel tower or even an 8-inch diameter pole perhaps 20-40 feet high, similar to a radio or cell phone tower. Dozens of high-definition cameras are attached to the new Remote Tower’s structure, each aimed at an arrival or departure path, as well as various ramps around the airport.
Using HD cameras, controllers can zoom in on any given point within the camera’s range, say an aircraft on final approach. The only way to accomplish that in a control tower today is if the controller picks up a pair of binoculars. The HD cameras also offer infrared capabilities to allow for better-than-human visuals, especially during bad weather or at night.
The next step in constructing a remote tower is locating the control room where the video feeds will terminate. Instead of the round glass room perched atop a standard control tower, imagine a semi-circular room located at ground level. Inside that room, the walls are lined with 14, 55-inch high-definition video screens hung next to each other with the wider portion of the screen running top to bottom.
After connecting the video feeds, the compression technology manages to consolidate 360 degrees of viewing area into a 220-degree spread across the video screens. That creates essentially the same view of the entire airport that a controller would normally see out the windows of the tower cab without the need to move their head more than 220 degrees. Another Remote Tower benefit is that each aircraft within visual range can be tagged with that aircraft’s tail number, just as it might if the controller were looking at a radar screen. (more…)
-
Caught In the (P-61) Black Widow’s Web
by
No Comments
A side benefit of visiting Reading, Pennsylvania, where two of my wife’s three sons (and 6.5 of her 11.5 grandchildren) reside is catching up on the Mid Atlantic Air Museum’s restoration of its P-61 Black Widow. When I first saw the airplane in 1995, just before we got married, its bent and corroded pieces were not long removed from a New Guinea mountaintop where it crashed during World War II. As we approach our 20th anniversary, the P-61 is on its gear and ever closer to flying again.
There aren’t words to describe my attraction to this airplane. With a lifelong affinity for aircraft of this era, America’s first purpose-built, 4,000-hp night fighter that’s as big as a B-25, caught my attention as a youngster. Another part of it is its rarity. Northrup built 750 of them. Only four survive worldwide, all of them in museums. MAAM’s will be the only one destined to fly again. An equal measure of attraction is the unrelenting passion and determination of the volunteers who have spent decades to achieve that goal by restoring the airplane, complete with all of its systems, and returning the Widow to its intended environment—the sky.
-
Have You Seen a Baumann Brigadier?
by
No Comments
As the photo here shows, it looks like an old Aero Commander, and when I first saw this photo that was my initial identification. And then I noticed that the tail feathers were lower, and that the horizontal stab didn’t have the Commander’s dihedral, and, oh yeah, it has pusher props.
Knowing me as a dedicated airplane geek, a friend at Addison Airport sends me photos of airplanes that catch her attention and asks me to tell her more about them. The Baumann Brigadier stumped me, and after nearly a half-day of research online and in my library, I had to admit defeat.
A coworker she next shared the photo with was able to identify the airplane, and he provided the Wikipedia link. In our e-mail exchange, we wondered if any examples of the airplane still exist. Only two prototypes were built, and a search of the FAA registry provided no joy. Neither did an afternoon dedicated to finding an example on museum display.
So I’m turning to the collective knowledge of JetWhine’s legions of fellow airplane geeks. Have you seen a Baumann Brigadier, and where can you still see one?
-
Chasing Ghosts at NAS Brunswick Maine
by
No Comments
On Monday, September 29, I completed a lifetime quest of visiting all 50 states by chasing ghosts at Brunswick Executive Airport (BXM), the former Naval Air Station Brunswick Maine. I chose it because my late father, a naval aviator, served here as an SB2C Helldiver (below) pilot at the war’s end. In seeking the ghost of my dad’s aviation past I wandered unmolested with the ghost of aviation’s present and saw glimpses of what may be the ghost of aviation’s future.
The Navy commissioned NAS Brunswick in 1943, two years before my dad arrived with his squadron, which was transferred from NAS Fallon Nevada when the bomb made the invasion of Japan unnecessary. I didn’t take the time to explore each of its 1,487 acres, but I found no evidence from my father’s aviation era. The ghost of aviation present speaks with a loud silence on the airport’s parallel 8,000-foot runways and 103 acres of taxiways and ramps that were once covered with P2v Neptunes and then P-3 Orions. No one was flew during my afternoon sojourn, and the only airplanes I saw were two Cirrus SRs and four amateur-built experimental aircraft tied down around the the old Navy tower and ops building. The only people I ran into was the lineman/counterman at the FBO and a steady stream of moms and their offspring at the daycare center. This, I think, could be the ghost of aviation’s future.