No, don't. Today (well, it will be visible tonight) is the first of two full moons in May. The moon would have appeared full last night, but there was enough cloud cover that it didn't make for a good photograph. I will try again tonight - it is supposed to be clear.
Today is also the first of May. May Day. I called my brother-in-law John this morning, who had a life long career as a professional pilot. We had a good "pilot talk" visit. I asked him if he ever "declared a Mayday"? No; in all his years of flying, he had a couple what are considered emergency situations, but never a "Mayday."
I had one time when a door popped open in flight, causing a "shudder" when making a left turn. The slipstream was such that I couldn't pull the door shut. When I spoke with Approach Control, I asked for "right turns" due to that shudder.
"Are you declaring an emergency?" they asked.
"No - I just want to avoid left turns." They let the tower know that I had requested a non-standard approach for landing.
When they turned me over to the tower, they asked, "Do you want the equipment standing by?" That means: rolling the fire trucks.
"Definitely not. No emergency here." If you declare an emergency and it turns out to be nothing, you are responsible for any costs incurred in "rolling the equipment."
As I made my turn to final, there were two fire trucks with lights flashing ready to roll with me on the parallel taxi-way. I reiterated that I did NOT request "the equipment."
The tower came back with, "We're just playing it safe - plus, they can use the practice."
I had a flashing light escort as I pulled up to the FBO (fixed base operator). No declared emergency, no cost to me. But, was winter and it was damn cold in the cockpit.
I was taking the plane from our home airport in Spearfish to the Rapid City Regional Airport just 55 miles away - I had a set of engine heaters that I was having installed by the FBO mechanic there. It was a cold winter day, and I had taken my coat off while warming up the plane with the cockpit heat on while still on the ground. Right after takeoff, the passenger door popped open - and stood out about 6" in the slipstream. I considered returning to that airport, and that is when I discovered the "shudder" in a left turn. Also, the pressure differential was pulling my coat that I laid on the co-pilot seat toward the door. I grabbed the coat and shoved it under my leg.
To add to the fun, the engine heaters were in a box in the second row of seats... packed with styrofoam peanuts. When the door popped open, the styrofoam peanuts swirled around the cockpit like snow. And, yes, I tried reaching across the cockpit to pull the door shut - too much pressure differential. So, I made the chilly choice to get the plane to Rapid City. I pulled my gloves out of the coat pocket... did I mention: it was cold.
And that led to my discussion for "no left turns" with Approach Control.
Another "emergency situation," which was definitely more of an emergency was when Joan and I were heading from Jackson, Wyoming, to Denver, Colorado, and the plane was hit by lightning while at altitude over the Rocky Mountains. It took out all our electronics, including the heated pitot tube (which is used to determine air speed). While in the clouds. In icing conditions.
Fortunately, the de-ice equipment was still working. With the radios knocked out, I knew Air Traffic Control would be trying to contact us, since I had let them know about "flying into convective conditions" right before the lightning strike.
At the moment, my job was to fly the plane and determine what equipment was still working. In instrument conditions. And icing. I was flying by sound and feel. I could see the airspeed indicator dropping, but the sound of the engines was normal... that previously heated pitot tube was icing over, making it look like our airspeed was dropping.
Joan was in the co-pilot seat and was fixated on that dropping airspeed - if it gets too low, the plane will stall (not the same as the engines stalling). She was very concerned that the airspeed would get too low and we would "fall out of the sky." In the turbulent conditions, I was working hard to keep the plane "straight and level."
35 years later, I still have the bruises on my arm where she was gripping me so tight. (Humor)
I said to her, "I need to fly this plane and I need your help - my flight bag is in the seat behind you. Get me the handheld radio and the pad of Post-It notes out of the bag." I put a Post-It note over the airspeed indicator so she couldn't see it and told her the frequency I needed put in the handheld radio.
I was able to get Air Traffic Control on the handheld... they asked, "Are you OK? Your transponder went away." I explained the situation and asked for vectors to where I could safely get lower to get out of the icing conditions. The plane had de-ice for the wing leading edges, props, and windshield, but I could tell that we were picking up ice on other surfaces.
Within a few minutes, we were able to descend. With no navigation gear and still in instrument conditions, I didn't know what was right below us... other than the Rocky Mountains. I shut down the electronics bus and tried bring up nav and com gear. Nope.
We eventually got below the clouds... and started shedding the ice. All good. I asked for and got vectors to Centennial Airport - just south of Denver, where I knew they had a good aviation electronics shop.
Emergency situation? Oh, yeah. And no one to declare it to in the worst of it. After getting all the electronics repaired, we added a StormScope to the plane: it shows you where lightning is in all quadrants around you. And, yes, it got plenty of use (for avoidance).
An old photo from our flying days. Look at those youngsters.
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