by Bill Cristobal, JAARS Water Safety Department

One day many years ago, I lifted off the U.S. Navy ship, the Corpus Christi Bay, cruising about 10 miles offshore Vietnam in the South China Sea. It had been a long day, so once airborne I relaxed, letting the copilot fly the 50-mile leg back to Bear Cat. The sun was slipping below the horizon and the ADF was tuned to Armed Forces Radio in Saigon. Johnny Cash was singing "Ring of Fire." We were heading "home"… and all I wanted was a shower, a meal and a bed.

I rested my head against the armor plate of my seat and may have dozed. I remember suddenly sitting straight up in my seat, startled by a loud squeal from the engine compartment. I grabbed the controls and went into autorotation. Leaving 3,000 feet, we called Mayday while scanning the instrument panel for clues as to what went wrong. I imagined the squeal was coming from the transmission which meant we needed to get close to the water before the rotor stopped turning. Passing through 500 feet the Hydraulic Pump Out light came on, then the controls became stiff, confirming the caution light and the fact that this was our problem instead of a failed transmission. The two of us came back in with power and established a climb. We could handle this. My adrenaline pump could overcome the stiff controls! We declared an emergency and turned towards the ADF needle and Saigon's Ton Son Nhut Airbase where they had the best emergency equipment.

Back at the Officers' Club with a few root beers under my belt and the story told to anyone who would listen, we started to think about what would have happened if we had had to ditch. We were flying an Army Huey that was not equipped to fly over water. We were wearing a 20-pound bulletproof "chicken plate" on our chests and flight helmets. We had pistol belts with a 45-caliber sidearm and extra ammunition. Next to the door I carried a captured AK-47, which would have hindered egress. None of the crew had flotation gear. We had set ourselves up to sink with the ship and we had not given it a thought until we saw the black sea rushing up to swallow us.

That was 35 years ago. To this day I relive the panic of that moment whenever I set course over large stretches of water.

I have learned a lot since then. Last year I had a chance to take three different underwater egress training courses. Here are some facts that will interest you:

1. More than two-thirds of those who perish die because they could not get out of the sinking aircraft, not from being injured in the ditching itself. (AOPA, December 2001)
2. Of those who survive a ditching, only 8% manage to escape the aircraft without difficulty. (AOPA, December 2001)
3. Ninety percent of those who drown are involved in a ditching in which the aircraft becomes inverted in the water. (AOPA, December 2001)
4. Occupants of ditched aircraft with egress training stand a 250% better chance of surviving than untrained crew or passengers. (Helicopter World, September 2000)

These are sobering numbers when you consider the hundreds of crew and passenger hours we spend over water each year.

Egress Courses

Of the three egress courses that I took, two used a simple system of a chair on top of a frame in about four feet of water. You strap yourself in. Then one of the trainers rotates the seat (and you) upside down into the water. You have to orient yourself (with water up your nose), open the exit, undo your seat belt, and pull yourself out of the exit to safety. This was a very simple exercise, but it did open my eyes to some things that made me reevaluate the safety procedures that I have used over the last 38 years. For instance, I have carried most of my personal survival gear in my flight bag between the two pilot seats. If we were in a situation where we did sink on our back, these loose items would be floating around the cockpit and would never be collected as I frantically departed the aircraft. I would probably escape with only what I had on my body.

The other egress training course that I took was with Survival Systems in Groton, Connecticut. They use the METS (Modular Egress Training Simulator), which is a mock-up of an aircraft that would carry a crew plus eight passengers. It could sink in any position-upright, upside down or on its side-and you never knew what to expect. You had to get out, without hindering others. If the METS is configured as a cabin-class aircraft, you may have to egress through a cabin exit. That happened to me. I was in the left pilot's seat, in the dark. The METS sank on its right side. I had to keep oriented while exiting the cockpit, sliding seat-by-seat to the exit on the bottom of the cabin. (Not an easy task with the buoyancy of my body pulling me to the upper side!) Removing the emergency door, I had to pass through and swim out from under the craft and to the surface.

Information on Egress Training

All three of these courses offered at least four hours of classroom lectures on safety equipment and survival technique. Cost for the training ranges between $200 and $1,000. Any one of the courses will help a person gain a great deal of confidence in over-water flying, but the METS course presents a more realistic challenge.

The University of Louisiana offers a Helicopter Underwater Egress Training course using the METS. The cost is $175 for the one-day course. They also offer a Basic Aviation Water Survival course using the simple frame and chair in the pool, for $130. This would be good training for families flying over water. They are willing to do a special one-day course for JAARS if there were eight or more students. This seems like something to consider for furlough.

There is a lot that I wish I had known years ago. The Lord has been gracious to me and the many passengers that I have flown over the years. To Him be the praise and glory!