Shattered

HANDLING AN EMERGENCY AT 29,000 FEET WHEN THE WINDSCREEN FRACTURES WITHOUT WARNING

- Martin Murat

I would be riding right seat in our Piaggio Avanti with its regular captain, Mike, taking a family on a last-minute flight to Memphis, Tennessee, for the holiday. Little did I know just how much of an influence that one day would have on me throughout the rest of my career.

Moving into professional aviation in my mid-30s, I had become a CFI four years earlier, and had just about completed my first year of employment as a pilot for a local charter company. I had also just completed my first “school,” Beechcraft King Air 200 Part 135 simulator initial training. While not current in the Piaggio, I was asked to ride along in the right seat of this single-pilot turboprop as an observer and to help out.

Despite my annoyance of having my holiday plans ruined, I painted on my best smile for the passengers as they boarded. Three generations climbed on board, including their latest edition, a little baby girl. Every seat was filled as we launched from Houston on what we assumed would be another routine revenue flight.

The Piaggio is quite an unusual-looking airplane (the line service guys say it looks like a catfish), but it’s a stellar performer, yielding 100 knots more airspeed than a King Air with essentially the same engines. In addition, the ceiling is a surprising 41,000 feet. No doubt, much of this is attributed to its sleek design, with a forward wing, aerodynamically designed fuselage and a unique main wing, which has less surface area than that of a Cessna 172.