What I Learned Today

Did you know that there’s a gigantic concentration of trash that’s swirling around between California and Hawaii? The “Great Pacific Garbage Patch” is a stunning conglomeration of trash that is now reputed to cover an area twice the size of Texas, or possibly three times the size of France. Appalling!

Great Pacific Garbage Patch

Fascinating video about how they measure the volume of trash:

I recently listened to another fascinating episode of the “Science Vs” podcast titled “Plastics: The Final Straw?”. The tale of where our plastics go and what havoc they wreak is not for the faint-hearted. The show also discusses a question that had puzzled me a bit – how could that much plastic possibly end up in the ocean? Apparently, much of it is trash that folks drop in a street gutter, and then washes into a storm drain, which may at times bypass wastewater treatment (or be in a community that lacks it) and get expelled directly into the ocean.

There are efforts underway to try to clean up the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, thankfully. But I couldn’t get the idea of that trash out of my mind. And so on my next evening walk, I took a leftover grocery bag and my grabber tool with me:

(This isn’t my exact tool but you get the idea.)

And as I walked, I used it to pick up any trash I found on the street and put it in my bag. In half an hour of walking, I filled the bag TWICE! (I was able to dump it halfway through in an actual garbage can.) Again, appalling!

It was also fascinating to see what kind of trash was on the street. Our streets are actually quite clean, with weekly street sweepers coming through. I found the densest concentration of trash when I passed near the middle school :( And by far, overall, the biggest trash constituent was plastics. I collected a paper plate, a crushed soda can, and some napkins, but the huge majority was plastic cups, lids, straws, chip bags, food wrappers, etc. (I also found part of a pair of novelty sunglasses (plastic) and a pencil (not plastic).) In many cases, the items were near to or partly sucked into a storm drain already. The whole time, all I could think of was that mountain of trash in the ocean, and how unnecessary and avoidable it is.

But now, at least, I can tidy up the streets on my way to tidy up the library shelves. :)

In April, I got to fly my mom out to Camarillo for lunch. It had been a blustery few days with rather high winds. In fact, the winds were strong enough that on the day before, the previous pilot in N54678 (the plane that I had booked) couldn’t land at our home airport (EMT). I watched his track on Flightaware and saw that after two attempts, he decided to divert to Brackett (POC). (Good call!)

Good call for him, but awkward for me; would I need to drive to POC to get the plane? Nope! He kindly offered to go early to POC the next morning to pick up the plane and return it to EMT for me. He tried to get a ride there with another pilot, but then *her* plane ended up having a failed seat rail! So then she DROVE him to POC and he flew 678 back! I really appreciated the extra effort!

Winds were calm at EMT, but I could see that they were forecast to be stronger at Camarillo (CMA). We took off and did some sightseeing along the way. Our plan was to attempt to land at CMA, but with the understanding that if it wasn’t possible, we would just turn around and cruise back to EMT.

Indeed, the winds did pick up as we headed west. As we got closer, I noticed that my heading and course were deviating by more and more. The wind was coming from the northeast, and the amount of turn required to stay on a westerly course was large enough that there was a distinctly unfamiliar “sideways” element to our motion (visually, with respect to the ground). It was even more noticeable on downwind, when we were closer to the ground. I’d never crabbed on downwind!

From 10 miles out, CMA was reporting winds from 070 (northeast) at 21 knots, gusting to 30 knots. That was the strongest and gustiest wind I’d ever attempted to land in, plus being a mild <= 5-kt crosswind (for runway 8). But I decided to give it a try. As I got closer, the wind was shifting more northerly, which was increasing the crosswind component. On downwind, it was coming from 040 but had died down in strength a bit to 16 knots (gusting to 29). That's a 10-18 knot crosswind, which is hefty for a Cessna 172. But no reason not to try; if I couldn’t maintain runway heading due to too much crosswind, I would go around (or simply depart). In fact, the plane before me did go around (eep?).

The tower cleared me to land and provided a final wind check: winds from 050 at 19 gusting to 29 knots. My heart was beating fast. I figured there was a good chance this would not be a landing, so I was mentally prepared to go around. I turned final and had on my extra 5 knots of airspeed as protection against the gusts, and I was managing to track the runway centerline. I was banked left, into the wind, with full right rudder to keep the nose aligned – a very strong slip! It seemed to take forever for us to get past the threshold and creep down over the runway – not surprising since it was a 16-25 knot headwind, which reduced our groundspeed on final approach from 65 knots to only 40-50 knots. I noticed that my right hand, gripping the throttle and carb heat (ready for go-around) was shaking a little. I think it was adrenaline :) because I didn’t feel scared, just extremely focused. The touchdown was fine. And then I felt a bit of wobbling drift, probably because I relaxed the ailerons (a good lesson on why it is so useful to envision the wind direction even when you’re on the ground!), but I regained directional control quickly. We exited the runway in triumph and taxied to the restaurant.

There was LONG wait for lunch, as is often the case at Camarillo. We passed the time enjoying the cute miniature version of the airport and ogling the windsocks (notice the flags, windsock, and palm trees at right). The forecast was for the winds to die down into the afternoon, so I expected that conditions would be better for our return flight.

After lunch, I got a weather briefing for our flight back to the east. There was a sigmet for moderate turbulence, and the northeast winds were predicted to swing around to the southwest at some point. It’s not often that you get tailwinds both directions! :) Ontario was reporting blowing dust (ick). Winds at EMT, however, were mild. Unfortunately, the winds at CMA had not improved as much as predicted; they were now from 080 (straight down the runway at least) at 18 gusting to 25 knots. Curiously, the winds at Oxnard (just 6 miles away) had changed to 290 at 12 knots, indicating that the front was indeed moving in from the west and we could expect a wind change at any minute.

I taxied out to the departure end of runway 8 and held short. As we sat waiting for a takeoff clearance, the windsock caught my eye. It was indicating wind from the west, NOT from the east – which would be a tailwind if I took off on runway 8. The front was upon us. Just then, the tower cleared us for takeoff. I reported the contradictory windsock to the tower, who responded that the wind sensor and windsock at midfield was still indicating wind from the east. Eerie! Well, I figured that I might as well try to beat the front and, by the time I was rotating for takeoff, I’d probably be into the easterly wind. And if things didn’t look good, I could always abort the takeoff. I had 6000 feet of runway at my disposal.

I took off and immediately encountered a flock of birds about 100 feet off the ground and reported it to the tower. I nosed down to fly under the birds, which made me pick up airspeed, which made my whole takeoff feel non-standard. I noted that the tower was now giving wind reports to other pilots coming in that included “low-level wind shear” as would be expected given the disagreeing windsocks. That’s definitely something to be wary of when coming in to land. But luckily, I was off the ground and climbing away.

Right about then the tower asked me to “report gain or loss midfield?” which I couldn’t process into a coherent question. Me: “Gain or loss of what?” Tower: “Report gain or loss midfield.” Me: “Say again?” Tower: “Frequency change approved, have a safe flight.” (Translation: “We’re done trying to communicate with you.” :) ) As I continued my climb (and switched frequencies), I decided that they were probably asking me if I’d noticed a sudden gain or loss of airspeed/altitude (which could occur if I passed through the front). Due to my evasive maneuvers, I couldn’t say whether the wind alone had affected the plane at that point. It’s probably still good that they warned other pilots of potential wind shear!

The rest of the flight back was uneventful and scenic. When it was time to land at El Monte, the local winds were very light – from 180 at 4 knots. I was very glad that it was so much better than the previous day and that we were not forced to divert. And I got some great crosswind practice and successfully passed that real-world test! (And took away notes for future improvements. There is truly a world of difference between theoretical crosswind compensation and actually doing and feeling it!)