February 2005-
There is no flying decision harder to make or more second-guessed than aborting a takeoff. It is the most time-critical choice you make in the pilot’s seat and it has some of the largest and most dire consequences if you get it wrong.
A problem with the aborted takeoff in most General Aviation aircraft is that it is impossible to practice one the right way. This is one training procedure that is as dangerous as the real thing. There is no way for you to practice accelerating to almost takeoff speed, and then yanking the power back to idle and slamming on the brakes while trying to maintain directional control on whatever concrete is left for your rollout.
A for-real, no-kidding abort is an emergency. It isn’t like practicing stalls at a high altitude or securing an engine on a multi-engine airplane when you are high enough and fast enough to get a restart.
Some of the more sophisticated full-motion simulators built for General Aviation aircraft may be able to do this procedure, but I think you’ll agree that most people learning to fly, especially those of us that are economically challenged, do so in real airplanes, not expensive full-motion sims.
Over the past 26 years or so, I have been the recipient of literally hundreds of chances to practice and screw up takeoff aborts in very sophisticated airline simulators from the Boeing 727 to the Lockheed L-1011. In the airlines, we do takeoff abort training at least once per recurrent training (either once or twice a year, depending on our position) and we do it like the big dawgs we are.
First, the simulator is set up for maximum takeoff weight. It usually includes weather parameters of at least a 10-knot crosswind and very low ceiling and visibility—about 100 feet overcast and a half-mile viz.
If the instructor is good, he or she can make you think this is just another takeoff. Usually they’ll say something like, “O.K., this time we’re going to exit the pattern and clean up a few maneuvers we haven’t done yet. Wind Zero-One-Zero at 12 knots, Airliner 101, Runway Niner Left, turn right to One-Two-Zero, climb and maintain 7,000, cleared for takeoff.”
We airline flyers are conditioned to expect a V1 cut, not an aborted takeoff every single time. I’ll explain the difference in a later article, but basically, a V1 cut results in a continued takeoff, not an aborted one.
Just about three knots below V1, something happens to make us abort. Normally it is an engine explosion or something equally noisy. The Captain (that’s me) announces the abort, closes the throttles while simultaneously clicking off the auto throttles and pulls both engines into reverse. The auto spoilers should have deployed by themselves, but the next step is to confirm that they did.
By the time the spoilers come up, the auto brakes start maximum automatic braking. This is impressive even in the simulator, but it is very impressive if you’ve ever done it in a real airliner.
Combined with full authority anti-skid, the RTO (Rejected TakeOff) mode of the auto brakes will stop you right now!
Then all we have to do is maintain directional control, let the tower know, and start running checklists. There are dozens of clean-up items like the after-takeoff checklist, whatever abnormal checklist is appropriate and announcing your intentions to the passengers.
Finally, since we started the abort at a high speed, we have to note the speed and begin worrying about brake temperature. If we aborted near V1, with a heavy airplane, we are sure to blow a lot of fuse plugs in the main gear tires, so we need to find a place to park before the tires go flat.
Finally, we need to make sure that maintenance people chock our wheels because if we set the parking brake we’re going to warp the discs. Our biggest concern after the takeoff abort of a big airliner is to keep the passengers from spontaneously evacuating the cabin and running all over the airport. Most passenger injuries associated with takeoff aborts are when people try to slide down a wing or an escape slide and break something.
On the other hand, if the reason we aborted was because we were on fire, it would be a good idea if the passengers got off the plane. I’m not telling you all the above to impress you with how skilled the average airline pilot has to be; I’m telling you because except for the fact that we airline pilots have it easier, your job during a takeoff abort in everything from a Skyhawk to a Navajo is exactly the same.
Airline pilots have it easier because we have at least one other professional pilot in our crew plus automation in the form of auto spoilers, auto brakes, thrust reversers and anti-skid to help us, plus we get to practice it in the simulator. Trust me: it is a hairy experience, even in the simulator. That is why you can’t really practice the same thing in your Skyhawk or Navajo—you can’t total the airplane just to train in it.
When we mess up a takeoff abort in the simulator, we keep practicing. The very first time you have a real abort, you have to get it right.
Single versus Twin
The procedure for aborting a takeoff is the same, whether your airplane has one engine or eight, but it is slightly safer if you are flying a single because you generally take off at a slower airspeed and don’t have to fret and worry about what you’re going to do if you lose an engine.
After years of teaching multi-engine flying, I’ve come to the conclusion that for almost all light twins, if you lose an engine you are safer pulling the good engine back and landing off-airport, straight ahead until you get above Vyse and about 1,000 ft. AGL. But that is for another article.
When do you abort? There are really only two kinds of takeoff aborts: voluntary or involuntary. Involuntary aborts would include things that automatically make it impossible for you to fly, like a total engine failure. Voluntary aborts are the ones that can get you into the most trouble.
Here are a few of the more common causes of takeoff aborts that you can decided to do or not, depending on your circumstances:
• A cockpit window opens five knots before liftoff;
• Your seat comes loose and slides back, leaving you out of touch with the controls;
• You are stung by a bee, bitten by a spider or blinded by a bird strike on the windshield;
• One of your passengers picked this moment to freak out.
There are dozens of other examples, but I think you get the idea. With the possible exception of the seat sliding back, you should continue the takeoff on all these examples, because it is more dangerous to abort than to take off.
We could go through all sorts of discussions about balanced field length and runway remaining, but the best advice I can give you on whether or not you should choose to abort is that you feel you won’t be able to fly the airplane if you continue.
Then, the fact that you are going to end up in the mud off the end of the runway gets put in the proper perspective. Obviously, if you are dealing with a raging onboard fire, the best thing to do is abort. If you dog has just barfed on your lap, it would be safer to continue the takeoff and clean up later.
If you think this is a simplistic approach, you are right, but you might be surprised to learn that many airline aborts that lead to an accident are totally unnecessary. Even a cockpit window opening at takeoff in a jet can be flown through and closed later.
If you abort for the wrong reason at a high speed, you can turn an annoyance into an accident. That is the biggest problem with takeoff aborts. It is a decision you must make under duress in the smallest amount of time imaginable. Even a go-around from an approach gives you much more time to make up your mind.
Recommendations
Here is a short list of tips and techniques I teach my students about takeoff aborts:
• If in doubt, don’t go. If you aren’t sure about making a safe takeoff for whatever reason from weather to the shape of your airplane, just decide not to go. The easiest takeoff abort is the one you never begin.
• Use the longest runway available— all of it. Tactfully turn down offers of an intersection takeoff unless you are concerned about being behind a heavy for too long a time. You’ll really appreciate that extra 3,000 feet of concrete if you have to abort.
• Mentally prepare. It’s silly to tell you to expect to abort on every takeoff, but it should be somewhere in the back of your mind that it is a possibility.
• One-Two-Three. You should have a memorized procedure in your mind that is methodical and easy to remember. “Throttle back—brakes—flaps-up—stop straight ahead” covers most airplanes.
• Tell the tower—later. Don’t say anything on the radio until you come to a complete stop. The controllers will no doubt see you are aborting and you have much more important things on your plate than talking to ATC. Remember—fly it until all the parts stop moving!
• Save yourself, not the airplane. Doing an extreme takeoff abort can lead to aircraft damage. Let it—you are more important than a bent airframe or a flat tire. Use everything at your command to stop safely and worry about aircraft damage later.
There really is no Litmus Test for aborted takeoffs. It is a decision I hope you never have to make, but if you do, make sure you do it early enough for a safe outcome.
Kevin Garrison’s aviation career began at age 15 as a lineboy in Lakeland, Fla. He came up through General Aviation and is currently a senior 767 captain. When not frightening passengers, Kevin plays tennis and lives on a horse farm in Kentucky, where he writes unsold humor projects and believes professional wrestling is real and all else is bogus.
