There is something undeniably thrilling about sliding into the left seat of a different aircraft – for most of us, something sleeker, faster, more capable or, if you hold an ATP certificate and cash a paycheck for flying, possibly into something slower and less capable. But, for many pilots, this moment is not just a milestone; it is a test of character. Beneath the thrill lies a quiet and very real risk that has echoed through countless NTSB reports: overconfidence.
Transitioning to a different aircraft — whether it is from a high-wing trainer to a low-wing performance airplane, or to a complex retractable-gear aircraft…or from a wide-body jet to a weekend ragwing taildragger, it demands more than a fresh endorsement in the logbook. It demands humility.
One of the more insidious dangers in general aviation is what some instructors refer to as the “experience trap.” Pilots with hundreds or even thousands of hours in a familiar airframe can begin to believe their experience and familiarity translate universally. They do not.
The FAA’s Safety Team notes, “Transitioning to another aircraft works both ways — stepping down is just as important as stepping up. It’s not just about learning how to fly a more complex airplane. It’s also about learning to transition from high-performance aircraft to aircraft with lower performance and complexity, which can be equally challenging.” See FAA Aviation Safety, “Transition Training,” January 2022 at www.faa.gov/sites/faa.gov/files/2022-01/Transition%20Training.pdf.
My friend Captain Black Cloud (a retired United Airlines captain and check airman) related a story to me about a fellow airline captain, who was transitioning with him into a tailwheel Citabria he had recently purchased. The first attempt at landing turned into an interesting experience.
As Captain Black Cloud described it, the usual sight picture developed on the approach to the threshold of the runway, but the new Citabria pilot unexpectedly cut the power and commenced his flair about 50 feet in the air! Why would an experienced wide-body jet pilot do that? Because the sight picture he was accustomed to seeing in the cockpit of the jet told him it was time to begin the flair. However, he was flying a much smaller airplane, which necessarily flairs much closer to the runway surface, as the Citabria sits about 25 feet closer to the pavement than the jet he flew. An accident barely avoided.
Aircraft behave differently. V-speeds, sight lines or sight pictures, systems, stall characteristics, “feel” of the controls, and emergency procedures all vary. Assuming you have mastered flying because you have “seen it all before” or have substantial hours in your logbooks, is exactly how seasoned pilots end up in unfamiliar trouble.
As the FAA’s Safety Team has stated, “It’s also true that many accidents occur when pilots fly aircraft they are unfamiliar with. In fact, the first 50 to 100 hours in a new aircraft type are particularly dangerous, especially when a formal transition training program isn’t followed.”
Another pilot, confident from dozens of short ferry flights between two local airports, took off in marginal weather in a new (to her) airplane with minimal instruments. She entered unexpected cloud cover at 600 feet and lost all spatial awareness. She emerged from the clouds in a steep bank and nose-down attitude, narrowly avoiding disaster. She later admitted that her routine flights in a familiar aircraft had dulled her sense of caution when presented with new circumstances and an unfamiliar aircraft and instrumentation.
A low-time commercial pilot flying a Gulfstream 695-A apparently did not understand or did not operate the available known icing equipment properly in IMC and icing conditions and allowed airframe ice to accumulate in flight. A fatal accident ensued. Records indicated the pilot was very new to the aircraft and had received very little formal training in the aircraft prior to being allowed to operate it in solo flight.
In another fatal accident, a pilot flying an unfamiliar Cessna 310-D on a ferry flight to a new owner apparently mis-managed the fuel system, resulting in both engines stopping in flight during his approach, despite available fuel onboard. It is likely the pilot, without a good understanding of the fuel system, induced the dual engine failures, became distracted, and allowed the aircraft to slow well below published Vmc and stall speed. The airplane did a Vmc roll or an aerodynamic stall at an altitude too low for a recovery.
Reviewing another mishap resulting in fatal injuries to the pilot and his passenger, an experienced instrument-rated pilot, was flying a new (to him) experimental aircraft with a “glass cockpit.” The pilot lost control in IMC and the aircraft was destroyed when it collided with wooded terrain. No logbook entries were noted indicating that the pilot did not have any flight experience in the accident airplane, and most of his flight experience in IMC took place in his prior airplane, which was equipped with conventional flight instruments.
Overconfident pilots may skip checklists, dismiss weather briefings, downplay aircraft limitations, or fail to appreciate the necessity for the understanding and correct operation of critical systems. These behaviors can become contagious, subtly shifting your and other pilots’ norms toward complacency. What was once considered risky, becomes “just how I do things.” All airplanes are basically the same, right? Do I really need to spend much time practicing the operation of glass cockpit avionics, or recalling V-speeds, or understanding the emergency gear down procedure? What could possibly go wrong?
Overconfidence can quietly erode aviation safety culture from the inside out. While confidence is essential in the cockpit, overconfidence – especially when unaccompanied by humility – can lead to a normalization of risk, poor decision-making, and a breakdown in good habits that are vital to safe flying.
Humility may not appear on a checklist, but it should be the first item you cover when you settle into the left seat of an unfamiliar aircraft. It means recognizing that confidence must first be tempered with some serious study and insightful curiosity.
Your efforts should begin with the pilot’s operating handbook (POH). Long before you engage the starter and spin the prop, you want to have more than a mere acquaintance with the POH. If you are serious about making an effective and safe transition to your new aircraft, you and the manual should keep close company and become best friends.
You need to review carefully and understand fully the aircraft’s Normal Procedures, Limitations, Emergency Procedures, Performance Charts, Weight and Balance, the Description and Operation of the Aircraft’s Systems and, especially, the applicable V-speeds and configurations for normal operations.
Are you asking the dumb questions? Good. You are not dumb – you are doing what keeps pilots alive. A humble pilot is willing to say, “I do not understand,” or “I am not ready yet.” That mindset does not diminish your skill – it reinforces it.
Finding a good transition instructor is key. He or she must be experienced in the make and model of your aircraft. More importantly, they must have recent experience. Time in that make and model, if vaguely described as “once or twice,” or “at some point in the past,” is not remotely adequate and is a red flag. Let the instructor know about your experience and capabilities as well, and how you intend to use your new airplane. Type clubs are also a great resource for additional information concerning the aircraft and the qualified instructors in your local area who are familiar with and experienced in the aircraft.
Per the FAA Safety Team, whether you are transitioning from a higher to a lower-performance aircraft, or from a lower to a higher-performance aircraft, or even to a different model of the same type of aircraft, you should follow these three steps to ensure you have a sound transition training program: hit the books; train with a qualified instructor; and practice, practice, practice – twice a week is suggested to yield the best results.
For the new or unfamiliar aircraft, the FAA Safety Team also suggests developing new personal minimums, and establishing your personal data at your typical mission weights.
Remember, new or unfamiliar avionics systems require familiarization and practice as well. Garmin, for example, makes available for free in the app store several Garmin Aviation Trainers for its popular GPS navigators. These simulators can be downloaded to your computer, iPad, or mobile phone. In addition, I have found several very good videos produced for YouTube that in 10 or 15 minutes can walk you through the structure, features, and basic operation of most of the popular avionics on the market.
In my experience, it is much easier to learn how to program and fly a flight plan and approach procedures on your GPS navigator sitting on a comfortable couch in your living room, than it is in the airplane. No distractions, and you are not burning your aircraft’s battery power on the ground or avgas in the air while doing some initial familiarization and training. However, you will need at some point to be able to demonstrate that you have mastered your GPS navigator in the panel of your aircraft while in the air.
Self-debriefing after every flight should be a ritual. What went well? Where did I fumble? Did I rush that checklist? Do I really comprehend the “buttonology” of my GPS navigator? What could I have done better? Did I fly the aircraft safely and manage speeds correctly? Do I really understand the fuel system – or did I just nod along during the transition checkout?
An honest internal dialogue builds resilience. And if the honest answer is, “I don’t understand this very well,” or “I got lucky,” then insufficient knowledge or luck have no place in your safety net.
A few words about finding yourself as a passenger in someone else’s new or unfamiliar airplane.
I have written in the past about a less-experienced pilot (me) showing deference to a more experienced pilot. Senior pilots with thousands of hours in their logbooks or stripes on their coat sleeves deserve some deference. However, as a right-seater/passenger in an aircraft the left-seater is transitioning into, you can never simply assume that every decision that pilot makes, and every action that pilot takes, are the correct and safe ones. Trust, but independently verify with your own judgment and experience.
If the person in the left seat is new to the aircraft, despite hours and experience in his or her logbooks, never simply assume they can fly the unfamiliar aircraft well the first several flights. Better to monitor a little more carefully. No good pilot thinks he or she can move from airplane to airplane and fly each like a pro the first time they takeoff. I have learned that it is the humble and cautious pilots that we all should emulate – and seek out and fly with.
Flying is a privilege wrapped in responsibility. As pilots, we become custodians of not only our own lives, but also the lives of passengers and those on the ground. That demands respect – respect for the aircraft, for its limitations, and your own self-respect. Are you willing to commit the time and effort to becoming a better, safer pilot?
Respect is not passive. It is active vigilance. It is saying no to marginal weather if you are not instrument rated. It is declining a flight if you are ill, or tired, or distracted. It is the preflight that takes 10 extra minutes because you experience that little voice in the back of your head that says something is off, such as an aileron that may be binding, or a tire that appears low, or a larger RPM drop than normal on a mag check.
Every pilot sets an example. When we normalize saying, “I’m rusty,” or “I’m not familiar,” or “I do not understand,” or “I need another hour with the instructor,” we shift the culture in a positive way. The cockpit does not reward swagger – it rewards preparation, reflection, good decision-making, and restraint.
So, the next time you slide into the left seat of that gleaming new (to you) bird, bring your experience and your eagerness to learn – but leave your ego on the ramp.
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