September 25, 2020 | Local, Aerospace, Security
In early June, the RCAF regained possession of a CC-138 Twin Otter that, 15 months earlier, had suffered severe damage to its nose and tail during a difficult landing on the ice of the Beaufort Sea
A workhorse of the north, the Viking Air DHC-6 was built to withstand much that the harsh Arctic could throw at it. But this aircraft's return to service is a tale of ingenuity and a testament to the recovery and salvage capability of the Air Force and its partnership with Canadian industry.
The aircraft, 803, was one of two Twin Otters from 440 Transport Squadron in Yellowknife participating in Operation Nanook 2019, an annual Canadian Armed Forces interoperability exercise with allies and civilian agencies held across the Arctic.
The crew was on a scouting mission near Pelly Island on that afternoon of March 10, 2019, carrying three defence scientists looking for landing spots on the unprepared sea ice to conduct research later in the exercise.
They had landed without incident near Tuktoyaktuk earlier in the day and were attempting to set down on a smooth area of ice when the aircraft “bounced into the air after contacting a drift perpendicular to the aircraft's heading ... [and] impacted the base of a larger drift,” according to the flight safety investigation report, collapsing the nose landing gear.
One hundred and sixty kilometres away in Inuvik, Maj Andrew Oakes, commander of the second Twin Otter, had just settled into his hotel room when the phone rang. “I thought to myself, this is not good. There is only one person I know with a sat phone at the moment who could be calling my cell phone.”
The news was mixed: There were no injuries but there was no way the crew was flying the aircraft off the ice.
Armed with their location, Oakes and a crew immediately took off in the second CC-138 “to see if we could land and pick them up.” When he arrived overhead an hour and a half later, the damaged Twin Otter was sitting low in the ice and the nose, buried in the snow, appeared to be sheered off. With the low angle of the sun, the undulations of snowdrifts were now visible across the ice. He quickly reconsidered attempting a landing.
Landing on ice requires a deft touch. Because of its varied operations, the CC-138 has a landing assembly that includes both tires and skis, a heavier and less flexible construction than just the skis. The aircraft must set down at the exact spot “you want to land” and then slow as rapidly as possible, using reverse thrust and some elevator control. “It is tricky. It is easily the most challenging thing that is done in a Twin Otter,” said Oakes.
While the stranded crew had prepared a snow camp for the night, a civilian search and rescue helicopter, dispatched from Inuvik shortly after the accident, soon arrived on scene and transported them back to the town.
An instructor on the Twin Otter, Oakes had been seconded to the exercise as an aircraft commander from his job as a staff officer for air mobility readiness at 1 Canadian Air Division (1 CAD) in Winnipeg, Man. He soon found himself tasked with commanding Operation Recovery, an air task force quickly assembled to salvage the aircraft.
The RCAF has over many years developed considerable specialized recovery and salvage capability. And in 2012, a CC-138 with a sheared nose landing gear strut was lifted from dry tundra southwest of Inuvik in much warmer conditions. More recently, in -20 C temperatures of January 2019, the RCAF employed a CH-147F Chinook to lift and sling a CH-146 Griffon belonging to 417 Combat Support Squadron some 50 miles from the Cold Lake Air Weapons Range after the helicopter's main rotor blade struck a communication tower. MGen Christian Drouin, commander of 1 CAD at the time, observed: “We now have this recovery capability because of the professionalism and ingenuity of the personnel involved.”
The preferred and most cost-effective option would have been to fly in technicians from 440 Squadron and the salvage and recovery team based at 8 Wing Trenton, Ont., to repair the aircraft on the ice and fly out. “It would have been very good exposure for the technicians, because it is not something they would do normally. They have equipment and some training on how to extract an aircraft from [unusual] sites,” said Oakes.
However, daytime temperatures were already reaching -5 C and forecasted to rise to zero, so conditions to land and take off from ice on skis were no longer ideal. “When you are warmer than minus 10, landing and takeoff distances will start increasing exponentially.”
He also weighed a second option of calling in a Chinook from 450 Tactical Helicopter Squadron in Petawawa, Ont., to lift and transport the Twin Otter back to Inuvik. But nighttime temperatures were “still going down quite a bit and there was a chance the aircraft would freeze in .... That would be a worst-case scenario where no one is getting the aircraft off the ice, period.”
In the end, the discussion among the crews and with 1 CAD was “pretty short,” Oakes recalled. In coordination with the Combined Aerospace Operations Centre in Winnipeg, a plan was soon in place to lift and sling the aircraft with contracted support from Momentum Decisive Solutions.
By March 16, a CC-177 Globemaster III carrying two Griffon helicopters and various technicians from 440 Squadron and the salvage team arrived in Inuvik. Under the watchful eye of a Canadian Ranger patrol from Tuktoyaktuk that arrived by snowmobile and set up predator defence from polar bears that had been spotted in the area, the technicians began to lighten the CC-138 for airlift. They removed the nose gear, fuel and non-essential parts, and then strapped wooden blocks to the top of the wings to sling the load. They also attached a drogue parachute to help stabilize the flight.
On March 24, Oakes watched from one of the Griffons as a Sikorsky S-61R, a derivative of the S-61/SH Sea King, operated by VIH Aviation Group of British Columbia, lifted the 7,800-pound CC-138 and, steadied by the chute, began the 160-kilometre flight to the Inuvik airport. To manage the distance, VIH had prepositioned a fuel cache on the ice about midway from Inuvik. Even without its own power, the Twin Otter still wanted to “fly,” Oakes observed. “It was pretty spectacular to watch.”
Bringing the Twin Otter back to life was no small task. KF Aerospace, formerly Kelowna Flightcraft, is the prime contractor for a CC-138 life extension project as well as regular in-service support. Within days of the incident, the company was contacted and dispatched aircraft maintenance engineers to Inuvik to guide the removal of the wings. Back in Kelowna, they then built special fittings to anchor the aircraft in the cargo hold of a CC-177.
When the damaged Twin Otter arrived at their facility on June 14, special jigs and a donor nose were already in place. “This isn't the first time we've had to fix the nose section of a Twin Otter, so we had some good jig structures ... and we were able to reuse them,” explained Gregg Evjen, vice-president of maintenance and engineering.
KF Aerospace frequently performs heavy structural modifications, including freighter and tanker conversions, so the tricky modifications to the CC-138 were well “within our wheel house,” said Evjen. Still, the company had to fabricate some parts to connect the new nose and repair the landing gear and tail section.
With the aircraft already stripped bare, the company took advantage of the situation to conduct a full periodic inspection and maintenance program and complete the life-extension package, including re-winging the airframe. “It looks like a brand-new airplane,” he said.
KF Aerospace has taken on some challenging jobs in the past, including an upgrade program for the Bolivian Air Force T-33 jet that involved taking apart and crating aircraft, flying them to Canada for the modifications, test flying them, and then re-crating and returning them to Bolivia to be assembled. Resuscitating a Twin Otter was hardly new. “But the fact that it was up North and had to be brought off the ice pack, and we had to mount it in a C-17 and manufacture special fittings so we could strap it down properly – that was unique,” said Evjen.
Though the military strives to be self-sufficient and will build capacity to overcome most obstacles, Operation Recovery was a textbook example of the collaborative role civilian partners can play.
To Oakes' surprise, it was also a remarkable instance of how quickly the chain of command can make decisions when time is of the essence.
“I was really impressed with the speed that this came together, and with the level of co-ordination and teamwork,” he said. “It was a great example of how we can get things done. It did help working with the civilian contractor. They were experts. They knew exactly what to do and they had the equipment.”
https://www.skiesmag.com/features/operation-recovery-airlifting-cc-138-off-arctic-ice/
June 30, 2022 | Local, Aerospace, Naval, Land, C4ISR, Security
MADRID - Russian troops poured into Ukraine on the morning of Feb. 24, invading by land and sea as airstrikes ...
May 31, 2019 | Local, Aerospace, Security
Michael Petsche Helicopters are pretty awesome devices. Even when you understand the physics of how they work, it's still a wonder that the combination of whirling bits and pieces can result in flight. These magnificent machines put out fires, string powerlines, erect towers, pluck people in distress from mountains, and save countless lives. But here's the thing: a brand new, factory-spec helicopter right off the production line can't do any of those things. Flip through the pages of any issue of Vertical, and in almost every photo, the aircraft has been fitted with some type of special equipment. A firefighting machine will have a cargo hook for the bucket, a bubble window, an external torque gauge, pulse lights and a mirror. A search-and-rescue aircraft will have a hoist. Air ambulances are filled with lifesaving equipment. And very little of that stuff comes directly from the airframe original equipment manufacturers (OEMs). Instead, this equipment is in place thanks to supplemental type certificates (STCs). As the name implies, an STC is required for an installation that supplements the original aircraft type certificate. It needs to meet all of the same requirements as the aircraft that it's installed upon. Therefore, it must undergo the same kind of testing, analysis, and scrutiny that the aircraft does. How do regulatory authorities ensure that supplementary equipment meets the same standards as the aircraft they're designed to augment? Through people like me. I am a Transport Canada Design Approval Representative (DAR), also known as a delegate. A DAR does not actually work for Transport Canada, but is delegated to act on its behalf to make findings of compliance in a particular field of specialty — such as structures, avionics, or as a flight test pilot. To secure an STC, not only must a modification meet the same standards as the original aircraft, but it has to be shown not to degrade the safety of the aircraft. Let's take the firefighting helicopter as an example. The bubble window needs to be strong enough to withstand the aerodynamic loads in flight. In order to verify this, a structural test can be done on a test rig. However, the bubble window protrudes from the aircraft, resulting in extra drag. It could adversely affect how the aircraft behaves, or reduce climb performance, or have an effect on the pitot-static system. These are the sorts of issues that flight testing is meant to uncover. Similarly, if someone wants to upgrade an old GPS system to the latest and greatest model, testing must be done to ensure that there is no electrical interference between the new unit and any other existing systems on the aircraft. A big part of the STC process is determining just how you can prove that a modification meets the regulations. Does it need to be tested or is a stress analysis enough? Or is it a combination of the two — or another method entirely? And on top of that, which regulations are applicable? And furthermore, which version of the regulations needs to be applied? The rules for the Airbus H125, for example, are not the same as for the Bell 429. It's the role of the DAR (with concurrence from the regulator, in my case Transport Canada) to make these kinds of determinations. While the STC process is technically uniform, the scope can vary widely from one project to another. Changing a seat cushion or changing an engine type can both be STCs. The execution of a project can take many forms, and is dependent on a huge number of factors, including the DAR, the project scope, the resources available, and the end user. In my current role, I work largely on my own. The process typically begins with me submitting an application to open the project with Transport Canada. I prepare the documents and drawings, and witness and document any required testing. Then I compile it all and submit it to Transport Canada. Through all this, I will rely heavily on the end user to provide their insight and expertise — and their facilities. After all, it's their aircraft, and they are the ones who will ultimately be installing, using, and maintaining the STC kit — so it has to make sense to them. Whenever possible, I will have documents and drawings reviewed by the maintenance team to make sure that theory and reality align. Becoming a delegate How does someone become a delegate? In Canada, it begins with an educational requirement. You must have an engineering degree, or have, in the opinion of Transport Canada, equivalent experience. In other words, if someone has many years of applicable experience, they can be eligible to be a delegate, even if they do not have an engineering degree. A prospective delegate must also successfully complete the Aircraft Certification Specialty Course. This is a two-week intensive course that covers the ins and outs of aircraft certification: type certification, STCs, Change Product Rule and so on. And yes, there are exams! Next is a one-year working relationship with Transport Canada. The process for becoming a delegate is not uniform, with the one-year timeline more of a guideline than a rule. In my case, it took less than 12 months. Prior to beginning my process, I had the good fortune of working for a talented delegate for many years. He taught me how it “should be done.” I was given the opportunity to fly at 170 knots indicated airspeed in AStars pointed at the ground during flight tests; I snapped bolts while piling steel plates onto structures during structural tests; and I wrote numerous supporting reports for many kinds of STCs for many different aircraft types. My mentor is a (sometimes maddeningly) meticulous guy. Everything we did was thorough and correct. So, by the time I was presenting my own work to Transport Canada, it was evident that I already had a pretty firm grasp on the process. As a result, my delegation was granted before a full year. During the period while I was building my relationship with Transport Canada, my friends would ask if I had to accomplish certain specified milestones or achieve specific “levels.” The short answer is: not really. In fact, it's about building trust. It's almost counter-intuitive that in an industry with such strict regulations, granting delegation to someone is, to a large degree, based on a “warm, fuzzy feeling.” Ultimately, Transport Canada must have confidence in the delegate. Let's face it, we are in a business with tight schedules and high price tags. There can be a lot of pressure, financial or otherwise, to meet deadlines — and things can go wrong. Parts can fail under ultimate loading during a structural test. That cursed Velcro can fail the flammability test. And when these things happen, it can be the delegate that incurs the wrath of the angry operator who really needs to get his aircraft flying. Transport Canada must have the confidence that not only does the delegate have the technical knowledge and ability, but that they have the intestinal fortitude to stand firm under what can sometimes be difficult circumstances. There's the somewhat cynical axiom that the only way for an aircraft to be 100 percent safe is to never let it fly. I have heard many tales of woe and misery about people's dealings with Transport Canada and how the regulator was being “unreasonable” about X, Y, or Z. I'm of the opinion that these instances often stem from poor communication — on both sides. This is another area where the DAR can help. The DAR often acts as a liaison (or translator) between the operator and Transport Canada. Operators don't necessarily spend that much time studying design regulations. And similarly, Transport Canada engineers may not be fully familiar with the day-to-day challenges and obligations of aircraft operations. As a DAR, I speak the same language as Transport Canada. But I also spend a great deal of time in hangars, so I am also fluent in “aircraft operator.” This level of bilingualism can alleviate misunderstandings. And with a little strategic communication, everyone involved can be satisfied a lot sooner. Not surprisingly, communication and open dialogue between the DAR and the regulator is just as crucial. It has been my experience that Transport Canada wants to help get projects completed. They are aviation geeks, just like the rest of us, and they want to “Git ‘er done.” Because I have developed a solid relationship with Transport Canada, if ever I find myself struggling with something, I can call them and ask for guidance. Obviously it's not their job to fix the issue for me, but they are there to help. Whether they point me at an Advisory Circular that I wasn't aware of, or they draw from their own experience, 99 times out of 100, talking it through with them yields a solution very quickly. We all want to keep aircraft flying — safely. And we all have our different roles to play. As a DAR, I enjoy being the go-between for the regulatory world and the operational world. The challenge of getting them to work and play nicely together can be pretty fun — and a big part of accomplishing that goal requires earned trust and open communication. https://www.verticalmag.com/features/what-does-a-dar-do/
January 7, 2019 | Local, Aerospace, Security
by Ken Pole Transport Canada data on unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs) flown in or near controlled airspace in 2018 show that this remains a persistent problem, even as the federal government continues to work on updated regulations. Interim regulations in effect since last May prohibit UAVs inside controlled or restricted airspace, and require them to be flown at least 5.6 kilometres away from any area where aircraft take off or land. These regulations also require unmanned aircraft to be at least 1.9 kilometres away from heliports. UAVs must be flown only during daylight hours, always in line of sight, below 90 metres above ground level (AGL), and at least 30 to 76 metres from vehicles, vessels and the public. The only exception is for operations from a field or an event approved by the Model Aeronautics Association of Canada. Last summer, Transport Canada initiated two pilot projects involving emergency responders and several private companies which operate UAVs beyond visual line-of-sight (BVLOS) in an attempt to collect safety information to help regulators understand the challenge. “Transport Canada has indicated that they have now completed a few operational tests and will continue their trials,” wrote aviation lawyer Auriol Marasco, a partner in the Toronto law firm Blake, Cassells & Graydon, in a Jan. 3 website article. “The industry is anxiously awaiting the results as they will provide key indications as to how the BVLOS operations will be regulated.” Marasco also said Transport will be releasing updated regulations for UAV operations within visual line-of-sight (VLOS). Updated rules were expected by the end of December, but a Transport Canada spokesperson told Skies in a Jan. 4 email that the department “continues to work on getting the final regulations published . . . as soon as possible in 2019.” Meanwhile, the department's Civil Aviation Daily Occurrence Reporting System (CADORS) for last year–which could be amended as any year-end reports are incorporated–includes at least 123 reports involving UAVs not in compliance with the regulations. In some cases, the UAV was close enough for pilots to identify the make, model, and even estimate its weight. All major scheduled and charter carriers have filed reports about encounters at various altitudes, some within close proximity to runways. In June, the crew of an Air Inuit Boeing 737 on final approach 3.7 kilometres from Montreal/Pierre Elliott Trudeau Airport reported an orange UAV at some 360 metres AGL. At the same airport three months earlier, the tower advised an aircraft taking off that there was a UAV approximately 900 metres from the runway threshold at about 200 metres AGL. Quebec accounted for “only” eight CADORS reports in 2018. Given their traffic volumes, Ontario, British Columbia and Alberta topped the list with 48, 37 and 16 reports, respectively. One of the B.C. reports came from the crew of an Air Canada Airbus A321 on final approach to Vancouver International Airport. Descending downwind, they reported a UAV “whizzing by” at approximately 7,000 feet AGL. In another notable incident, the Vancouver Harbour Flight Centre (VHFC) reported a UAV some 200 feet above the floatplane docks as a Seair Seaplanes aircraft was taxiing out for departure. The only other detail provided in the CADORS was that “the UAV operator was located and counselled by a VHFC representative” and that the UAV had been landed. Reports were filed by commercial, corporate, private and military fixed-wing and helicopter pilots as well as members of the public. In most cases, the CADORS notes “no impact on operations.” However, that wasn't the case last February with a Cessna 172S registered to B.C.-based Chinook Helicopters. On a training flight from Abbotsford to Chilliwack, as it turned on right base to Chilliwack, the pilot reported that the leading edge of his left wing had been struck by an unknown object. He landed without further incident and police were advised. No UAV debris was found but blue paint was evident on the Cessna's damaged area. It was a situation that clearly could have been much worse. https://www.skiesmag.com/news/uavs-remain-a-persistent-problem-around-canadian-airports