Crash. Burn. Survive. Learn.
Learn to Survive by Practice,
Practice, Practice
By Katrina Gathers
Not many people can say that they crash-landed in an airplane and lived to tell about it.
Well I did. Five times.
Survival Systems Training located at the Groton-New London Airport in Groton, Conn., teaches people how to survive. In the water, in the wilderness. The staff’s goal is to present true-life crisis situations and give you the tools to help you walk away.
The company is a subsidiary of Survival Systems Limited, a 25-year-old Canadian firm. Groton is the national headquarters and there are five other training facilities throughout the world.
Clients range from ABC News - Primetime and AT&T Aviation to Chevron Overseas Petroleum, Connecticut State Police, Dateline NBC and the Discovery Channel. The Federal Aviation Administration and all branches of the military have taken courses.
One course is called “Underwater Patient Evacuation Course” - and it’s geared to equipping air medical personnel with the knowledge and skills necessary to react to an aircraft-ditching emergency. The one-day course includes learning how to “extract an on-board patient, endure a sea survival situation, and participate in your own rescue.”
The class I sat in on was called the “Aircraft Ditching Course.” The eight-hour session is divided into two parts - the first half involving classroom instruction and the second half dedicated to hands-on training.
The purpose is simple: “To provide the crew member or passenger with the skills necessary to coordinate or participate in the emergency evacuation and egress from a ditched aircraft.”
Easier said that done, right?
Well, the staff at Survival Systems recognizes that seminar participants bring with them experiences - both good and bad - that can play into how well the students absorb the information being taught in the classroom and later executed in the field.
Of the six people in my class, one was an instructor sitting through a refresher course, another was visiting for the fourth time and three others were enrolled as a prerequisite for their jobs. Two of us weren’t keen about trying out our newfound skills in the water.
Amy Farak is employed by the Middletown firm McLaughlin Research Corp. and is working as a contractor in the environmental division at the Naval Undersea Warfare Center in Newport, R.I. Farak and two of her colleagues, Chris Tompsett and Tom Fetherston, will be flying with the National Marine Fisheries Service doing marine/mammal observations. Part of the job requires them to take the course.
When she signed up, Farak was bombarded with war stories from co-workers who had already been to the Groton facility.
“It made me really nervous. I can’t swim very well and they told me I’d be in 200-feet deep “But they all said the training was worth it.”
A part of me sympathized with Farak. I nearly drowned on a class trip when my classmates convinced me it would be cool to jump off the high dive at the local pool. Knowing how to swim wasn’t a factor, they said, because once you hit the bottom you pop back up. They left out the part that I needed to know what to do once I emerged from my dip.
Daniel McInnis, chief instructor at the training center, assured us that we would be fine.
“We’ve had 22 non-swimmers come through the course,” he said, “and they are some of our best students. They’re listening to every word you say and when they get in the water it’s very mechanical. They do what they are supposed to do.”
I figured I had nothing to worry about because I had no plans to get in the water. Maybe I’d dip my toes, but that would be the extent of my involvement. My job was to “sit” through the course and write about the people taking it.
Kevin DeShay brought the most experience to the class. A pilot, DeShay described himself as a person who “flies corporate jets for extremely wealthy people.” He generally attends the course once a year and has also taken the ditching course and a CPR/defibrillator seminar.
Luckily, he has never had to use anything he’s learned in the courses.
“The owners are happy knowing that we went. It’s a comfort factor,” said DeShay, one of 80 pilots employed by his company. “It’s a lot more work than you think.”
McInnis took us step-by-step through the class work, telling us little known facts about the friendly skies. For example, most of the airports in the world are surrounded wholly or in part by water, which makes the ditching course so important. In addition, 92 percent of the cases when a plane was forced to land, the passengers and crew had less than a one minute warning. In 78 percent of the cases, the warning was less than 15 seconds, according to statistics, said McInnis.
“The more deliberate your movements, the easier and quicker it will be for you to get out of the cabin,” he said. “Once you’re out of the aircraft, do not go back in.”
Into the Blue
The Modular Egress Training Simulator (METS) is shaped similar to a subway car, with long slanted windows facing the cockpit and smaller windows along the side. Dressed in swim gear and covered by an aviator suit and helmet, we took our places in the 10-seat cabin.
The first test is putting out a fire during flight. Dense white smoke fills the cabin, so thick that you can‚t see your classmate sitting across from you. Then flames shoot out from overhead, the heat baking the side of your face, growing more intense as each student grabs the extinguisher to put out the blaze.
The main focus of the course, however, is getting out of the plane while it’s underwater. My personal instructor, Thomas Lazzaro, reminded me that no matter which way the plane lands the steps I’d follow would be the same: Secure your seatbelt and brace for the landing; after the plane fills with water, wait for it to come to a rest; jettison the exit and place one hand on the outside of the aircraft; with your free hand, release your seatbelt; push yourself through the exit without kicking; rise to the surface of the water and move a safe distance from the plane.
Sounds simple, but there were other factors to consider.
Depending on where you’re seated in the simulator and which way the cabin tips, McInnis warned that we could be under two to nine feet of water. The simulator takes between four and five seconds to fill, a span that seems like a lifetime when you‚re strapped into a seat upside down with cold water rushing up your nose. We were often tipped at 30 to 60 degree angles.
They took it easy on us the first run. The plane didn’t move until we all gave the thumbs up sign and instead of going directly into the water, it first rested on the surface to allow us to get our bearings. It then flipped upside down. Although they give you fair warning, the water moving steadily up your body is overwhelming. It takes patience to remain in your seat and concentration to follow the steps. Breaking the surface of the water was like crossing the finish line first in the Olympics.
The second run was also inverted, but the simulator went directly into the water without stopping. The third was upright and the final two required us to cross the cabin and exit through an alternate opening. To earn your certificate, students must complete five runs in the simulator. McInnis said that 30 runs was the record, but no one in our class was geared up to challenge it.
Maneuvering in and out of a life raft, surviving in the open water and participating in rescue and recovery were also part of the course.
Survival Systems offers eight courses covering various survival techniques.
The average class size ranges from four to eight students. Chad Copeland, a former Apache helicopter pilot and the director of military operations, said the firm has trained more than 10,000 people in the previous two years.
The Groton branch is run by a family team. Richard E. McInnis, father and president; Daniel McInnis, son and chief instructor; and his brother, Lazzaro, director of commercial operations.
I took the course. My question is, why haven’t you?
Resources:
Survival Systems USA, Inc. instructs pilots, aircrew and passengers in “water survival, aircraft ditching emergency and escape procedures, as well as rescue and sea survival techniques” according to the company Web site www.survivalsystemsinc.com. Training includes U.S.C.G. approved open-water sea survival under all climatic conditions for both aviation and marine interests. For more information, call (860) 405-0002; (888) 386-5371 (toll-free).
The Flying Physician Association exists to “promote safety, education, research and human interest projects relating to aviation.” The association’s membership is comprised of physician pilots across the United States, as well as in Africa, Australia, Canada, England, Israel, Puerto Rico, South America, Germany, West Indies and Japan. Web site is www.fpadrs.org.
