Landing an airplane in a crosswind can be a challenge. Most airports have multiple runways so that a pilot has options to select a runway most directly into the wind. However, some airports have only one runway and although a pilot can land at either end, a 90-degree crosswind negates that solution.

The technique involves lowering the windward wing of the airplane to maintain runway alignment but using opposite rudder to keep the plane from turning. Wing low, opposite rudder results in an unbalanced flight condition very noticeable to your senses. Such a maneuver produces the uncomfortable feeling of skidding in the air and increases the chances of a stall in which the plane losses lift and drops out of the air.

The Naval Air Station at Rota Spain had only one runway permitting landings either to the east or west. Our patrol aircraft—P2V7, Neptune—had a crew of eleven, three of whom were pilots, the plane commander, co-pilot, and navigator. The navigator was generally a newer member of the crew and the least experienced flyer.

  (Kneeling L to R) Navigator, Co-pilot, Taco, Plane Commander

We were on a six-month deployment to Spain in 1966 and I was our aircraft’s plane commander.  After returning from a routine 14-hour patrol, we found the runway at Rota had a 15 to 20 knot direct crosswind. Those conditions were within the capabilities of our 30-ton aircraft, but what a good opportunity to practice crosswind landings. I had our navigator take the righthand cockpit seat. He would fly the airplane, but I was right there in the left seat to back him up if he had difficulty.

The navigator because of his lack of experience was overcontrolling the airplane. I had to wave-off his first two attempts. I talked him through the third try and with both of us on the controls made a bouncing but safe touch and go.

(Incidentally, that young navigator went on to become a very good pilot and made a successful career of the Navy achieving the rank of Captain.)

Next, the co-pilot returned to his right-hand seat and made two safe although somewhat sloppy landings. Then it was my turn. As I made the turn onto final, I became aware that the wind had suddenly stopped blowing. Of course, the crew in the back of the airplane didn’t realize that and when I brought the aircraft to a gentle touchdown with just a short chirp from the tires, I could tell from the smiles and head nods, I had gotten away with it and earned a few “hot stuff” credits.

Another memorable experience occurred years after the Navy when my family was spending Christmas week on Marco Island, Florida. I thought it might be fun for two of my sons, Eric, Chris, and I to rent an airplane in Naples and fly to Key Largo where Pennycamp State Park was located. Pennycamp’s surrounding waters were well-known as a popular scuba and snorkeling destination. I needed to be checked out prior to taking the rented airplane and the check-pilot, learning of our planned destination, told me the runway at Key Largo was surround by water and always had a strong crosswind. “We tell pilots landing there to unlock the aircraft’s doors when on short final”, he said. “You want to be able to get out of the plane if blown into the water.”

Sure enough, as we approached the runway, I needed a lot of wing down just to keep us lined up. When I said, “Err, boys. open your doors.” They both looked at me like I was out of my mind.

Sometime in the late 1970s, my middle son and his younger brother, Chris and Brian, decided we would fly my airplane, a Cessna 182 RG, to the Bahamas for their spring break. My wife, not the most comfortable passenger in a small plane, decided she wanted to go along. The FAA required a life raft and lifejackets for the over water flight which we rented.

Flying into Nassau, the international airport there has only one primary runway although it is miles long to accommodate large airliners. On approach for the landing, we discovered a strong crosswind, nearly the maximum our small plane could handle. With one wing practically pointing at the ground and strong opposite rudder, we skidded down the glideslope. I could hear muffled moans from Mom in the back seat. Chris, in the front passenger seat, was looking out the window when he suddenly exclaimed, “Dad, look at all those wrecked airplanes down there.” Sure enough, just short of the runway could be seen several small airplanes that obviously didn’t make it to the landing strip. Why they were apparently abandoned, I have no idea.

As a FAA Wright Brothers Master Pilot Award recipient for my 50-years of accident-free flying, I have certified evidence that I am either rather lucky or old as dirt.