domingo, 31 de julio de 2016
sábado, 30 de julio de 2016
jueves, 28 de julio de 2016
martes, 26 de julio de 2016
lunes, 25 de julio de 2016
domingo, 24 de julio de 2016
viernes, 22 de julio de 2016
jueves, 21 de julio de 2016
miércoles, 20 de julio de 2016
If you’re ever tempted to take off in marginal weather and have no instrument training, read this article first before you go. If you decide to go anyway and lose visual contact, start counting down from 178 seconds. How long can a pilot who has no instrument training expect to live after he flies into bad weather and loses visual contact? Researchers at the University of Illinois found the answer to this question. Twenty students “guinea pigs” flew into simulated instrument weather, and all went into graveyard spirals or rollercoasters. The outcome differed in only one respect; the time required until control was lost.
The interval ranged from 480 seconds to 20 seconds. The average time was 178 seconds—two seconds short of three minutes. Here’s the fatal scenario... The sky is overcast and the visibility poor. That reported 5-mile visibility looks more like two, and you can’t judge the height of the overcast. Your altimeter says you’re at 1500 but your map tells you there’s local terrain as high as 1200 feet.
There might even be a tower nearby because you’re not sure just how far off course you are. But you’ve flown into worse weather than this, so you press on. You find yourself unconsciously easing back just a bit on the controls to clear those non-too-imaginary towers. With no warning, you’re in the soup. You peer so hard into the milky white mist that your eyes hurt. You fight the feeling in your stomach. You swallow, only to find your mouth dry. Now you realize you should have waited for better weather. The appointment was important—but not that important. Somewhere, a voice is saying “You’ve had it—it’s all over!”.
You now have 178 seconds to live. Your aircraft feels in an even keel but your compass turns slowly. You push a little rudder and add a little pressure on the controls to stop the turn but this feels unnatural and you return the controls to their original position. This feels better but your compass in now turning a little faster and your airspeed is increasing slightly. You scan your instrument panel for help but what you see looks somewhat unfamiliar. You’re sure this is just a bad spot. You’ll break out in a few minutes. (But you don’t have several minutes left...)
You now have 100 seconds to live. You glance at your altimeter and are shocked to see it unwinding. You’re already down to 1200 feet. Instinctively, you pull back on the controls but the altimeter still unwinds. The engine is into the red—and the airspeed, nearly so.
You have 45 seconds to live. Now you’re sweating and shaking. There must be something wrong with the controls; pulling back only moves that airspeed indicator further into the red. You can hear the wind tearing at the aircraft.
You have 10 seconds to live. Suddenly, you see the ground. The trees rush up at you. You can see the horizon if you turn your head far enough but it’s at an unusual angle—you’re almost inverted. You open your mouth to scream but... ...you have no seconds left
lunes, 18 de julio de 2016
"La perseverancia y el conocimiento en Aviación, son por cierto dos grandes aliadas y resultan ser juntas las mejores armas que se tiene para poder salir adelante en el proyecto de estudio".
sábado, 16 de julio de 2016
jueves, 14 de julio de 2016
Aeródromo de Peldehue absorberá el 30% del trafico de Tobalaba y obras se inician en dos meses.
Las operaciones del antiguo recinto, ubicado en la comuna de La Reina, fueron restringidas en 2008 tras el accidente aéreo donde fallecieron 13 personas.
Autoridades esperan que en no más de dos meses parta la construcción del nuevo aeródromo en Peldehue .
El ministro de Obras Publicas, Alberto Undurraga, firmó hoy la resolución que da inicio definitivo a la construcción del nuevo Aeródromo de Peldehue, que es el resultado de un convenio entre la Dirección de Aeropuertos del MOP y el Ejército.
La construcción permitirá absorber parte del tráfico del recinto ubicado en Tobalaba, el cual se restringió luego del accidente de 2008 en que murieron 13 personas. "Esperamos que el proyecto salga inmediatamente de Contraloría, porque va a ingresar la próxima semana la adjudicación, para decir que empezamos el camino sin retorno para tener la nueva pista, el nuevo aeródromo en en la región Metropolitana", comentó el ministro Undurraga.
El nuevo recinto estará ubicado a 30 kilómetros de Santiago en la comuna de Colina y será el primer aeródromo público, administrado por la Dirección Aeronáutica.
El Jefe del Comando de Bienestar del Ejército, General de Brigada Claudio Hernández, aseguró que tendrá una función mixta porque "va a facilitar operaciones propias del Ejercito, como instrucción y entrenamiento, además de una proyección estratégica importante desde el núcleo central del país".
Respecto a qué pasará con el Aeródromo Tobalaba, el director general de Aeronáutica Civil, Víctor Villalobos, informó que las operaciones seguirán disminuyendo.
"Desde 2008 a la fecha, de 79 mil operaciones ha bajado a 45 mil. Se presume que vamos a bajar un 30% más",
miércoles, 13 de julio de 2016
martes, 12 de julio de 2016
Qatar Airlines tomará hasta 10% de la propiedad de Latam Airlines mediante un aumento de capital. El precio de suscripción será de US$ 10 por acción. Se cree que esto será bueno para Latam que mejorará sus ratios de endeudamiento y quedará en mejor pie frente a sus competidores, dado que era el único que no tenía parte de su propiedad en manos de alguna gran aerolínea extranjera.
lunes, 11 de julio de 2016
How long can a licensed VFR pilot who has little or no instrument training expect to live after he flies into bad weather and loses visual contact? In 1991 researchers at the University of Illinois did some tests and came up with some very interesting data. Twenty VFR pilot "guinea pigs" flew into simulated instrument weather, and all went into graveyard spirals or roller coasters. The outcome differed in only one respect - the time required until control was lost. The interval ranged from 480 seconds to 20 seconds. The average time was 178 seconds -- two seconds short of three minutes.
Here's the fatal scenario. . . . . . . The sky is overcast and the visibility is poor. That reported five mile visibility looks more like two, and you can't judge the height of the overcast. Your altimeter tells you that you are at 5500 feet but your map tells you that there's local terrain as high as 3200 feet. There might be a tower nearby because you're not sure how far off course you are so you press on.
You find yourself unconsciously easing back just a bit on the controls to clear those towers. With no warning, you're in the soup. You peer so hard into the milky white mist that your eyes hurt. You fight the feelings in your stomach that tell you're banked left, then right! You try to swallow, only to find your mouth dry. Now you realize you should have waited for better weather. The appointment was important, but not all that important. Somewhere a voice is saying, "You've had it -- it's all over!" You've only referred to you instruments in the past and have never relied on them. You're sure that this is just a bad spot and you'll break out in a few minutes. The problem is that you don't have a few minutes left.
You now have 178 seconds to live.
Your aircraft "feels" on even keel but your compass turns slowly. You push a little rudder and add a little pressure on the controls to stop the turn but this feels unnatural and you return the controls to their original position. This feels better but now your compass is turning a little faster and your airspeed is increasing slightly. You scan your instruments for help but what you see looks somewhat unfamiliar. You are confused so you assume the instruments must be too. You are now experiencing full blown Spatial Disorientation. Up feels like down and left feels like right. You feel like you are straight and level again but you're not. The spiral continues.
You now have 100 seconds to live.
You glance at your altimeter and you are shocked to see it unwinding. You're already down to 3000 feet. Instinctively, you pull back on the controls but the altimeter still unwinds. You don't realize that you are in a graveyard spiral and it only gets worse. Your plane is almost sideways you're just tightening the turn by pulling back on the yoke, but all you can see is that altimeter going lower, lower, lower. The engine is into the red and growling and the airspeed is dangerously high. The sound of the air passing by begins to resemble a scream.
You now have 45 seconds to live.
Now you're sweating and shaking. There must be something wrong with the controls; pulling back only moves the airspeed indicator further into the red. It's supposed to do the opposite! You can hear the wind tearing at the aircraft. Rivets are popping as the load on the wings and tail far exceeds design specifications. 1800, 1500, 1100 feet...... down you go.
You now have 10 seconds to live.
Suddenly you see the ground. The trees rush up at you. You can now see the horizon if you turn your head far enough but it's at a weird angle -- you're almost inverted! You open your mouth to scream but. . . . . . Your time is up!
UNUSUAL ATTITUDE PREVENTION: LEVEL THE WINGS, CHECK THE AIRSPEED, CHECK THE ALTITUDE, AND PUT THE NOSE ON THE HORIZON! REDUCE THE LOAD ON YOUR WINGS: LEVEL THE WINGS! GET YOUR EYES OFF OF THE ALTIMETER AND LOOK AT YOUR ATTITUDE INDICATOR AND TURN COORDINATOR. THEN LEVEL THE WINGS!
For a discussion of this research study, see 178 Seconds Dissected by Paul McGhee
domingo, 10 de julio de 2016
viernes, 8 de julio de 2016
jueves, 7 de julio de 2016
By Colin Cutler
No matter how hard we all try, not every landing is perfect. But thanks to landing gear struts, even a not-so-perfect landing doesn't break your airplane into pieces.
There are 4 primary types of landing gear struts, and all of them are designed to help take the 'shock' out of your landing. Here's how they work.
Rigid struts were the original type of landing gear. The idea was simple: weld the wheels to the airframe. The problem was the imperfect landing; a hard touchdown meant the strong shock load transfer went directly into the airframe. And the pilot and passengers definitely felt it.
Soon after, aircraft engineers started putting inflatable tires on aircraft, and the air softened the impact load. While it wasn't a perfect solution, it definitely helped.
While you don't see them as often these days, you can still find rigid struts on the ramp. Almost all helicopters use them, in the form of metal skids attached to the frame of the helicopter.
Spring Steel Struts
One of the most common landing strut systems on general aviation aircraft is the spring steel strut. If you've ever flown (or ridden in) a Cessna, you know what it is. These aircraft use strong, flexible materials like steel, aluminum or composites to help absorb the impact of a landing.
As your plane touches down, the springs flex upward, dissipating and transferring the impact load to your airframe at rate that (hopefully) doesn't bend your plane. Spring steel is popular because it's mechanically simple, typically lightweight, and needs little to no maintenance. Plus, if you were like me when I was learning to fly, you know they can really take a beating.
Bungee cords are often found on tailwheel and backcountry airplanes. One of the most popular examples, and one you've probably seen, is the Piper Cub.
Bungee cords are just that - a series of elastic cords wrapped between the airframe and the flexible gear system, allowing the gear to transfer impact load to the aircraft at rate that doesn't hurt the plane. While some aircraft use a donut-type rubber cushion, most of them use lots of individual strands of elastic material to dissipate the shock, like the one pictured below.
The last type of strut is the only one that is a true shock absorber. Shock struts, often called oleo or air/oil struts, use a combination of nitrogen (or sometimes compressed air) and hydraulic fluid to absorb and dissipate shock loads on landing. You can find them on some smaller aircraft, like the Piper Cherokee, but you most often find them on larger aircraft, like business jets and airliners.
Shock struts use two telescoping cylinders, both of which are closed at the external ends. The top cylinder is attached to the aircraft, and the bottom cylinder is attached to the landing gear. The bottom cylinder, typically called the piston, can also freely slide in and out of the upper cylinder.
If you look at a cutaway of the two cylinders, what you almost always find is the bottom cylinder filled with hydraulic fluid, the top cylinder filled with nitrogen, and a small hole, called an orifice, connecting the two.
As you land, pressure from the wheels hitting the ground forces hydraulic fluid up through the orifice and into the top, nitrogen filled chamber. As the fluid moves through the hole (very quickly, by the way), it creates heat. And essentially, the kinetic energy of fast moving hydraulic fluid is transferred into thermal energy, and the shock of your touchdown is absorbed.
You can really see oleo struts in action when you watch airliners land. A perfect example was the Virgin Atlantic 747 that landed with one of its main gear up. The other three main gear struts took over and absorbed the landing, and you can see them compress on the touchdown.