A selection of John Yodice's
Pilot-Counsel Columns
Select a title below or scroll down to view all
to say that it passed over her and her house at about two and a half times the height of the surrounding trees. The trees nearby were about 80 to 85 feet high. Using this method of estimating the height of the airplane, that would make the pass at an altitude of about 200 feet. She was able to identify the airplane to the FAA as a small white single-engine “Cessna,” a name she equated with small airplanes. She had jotted the registration number down on a napkin. Using the registration number, the FAA was able to look up the owner of the airplane. The FAA called the owner and asked who was flying the airplane that day. The owner checked the logbooks and identified a pilot. The other side of the story. A young private pilot, a cadet at a well-known military academy, by all accounts a sterling youth, was home for the weekend. His was a flying family. His father, a high-ranking military officer, was a pilot and flight instructor. His brother was also a pilot. The father had taught both his sons to fly. On this day, our young pilot was flying a Cessna 150 with his brother as a passenger. They were flying over their home, looking for their father who was out by the barn working. The father waved. They circled a few times and then headed out. This kind of flyby of their home was something they had done many times before. They didn’t think there was anything usual about the flight. They were quite surprised to find much later that the FAA was investigating the flight. Did the airplane pass over the woman and her house as low as 200 feet? Not according to the pilot. The airplane never flew lower than 500 feet over the property. The pilot was sure because, as he always had, he made sure that his indicated altitude was always above 800 feet, which assured at least 500 feet above the ground. The father was a stickler for safety and compliance with the regulations. An FAA inspector was assigned to investigate the woman’s complaint. The young pilot admitted to the FAA flying the airplane that day, over his home nearby the woman’s house. As a result of the FAA investigation, the FAA ultimately brought an enforcement action against the pilot. The FAA suspended the pilot’s license for 60 days, charging him with violating FAR 91.119 (a) and (c) and FAR 91.13(a). The FAA specifically charged that the pilot “operated an aircraft over a residential neighborhood ... below an altitude of 500 feet above the highest obstacle within a horizontal radius of 2000’ of the aircraft” (garbling two different provisions of the same regulation). Since we are charged with knowing them, it is worth setting out both regulations in full. FAR 91.119 Minimum Safe Altitudes: "General. Except when necessary for takeoff or landing, no person may operate an aircraft below the following altitudes: “(a) Anywhere. An altitude allowing, if a power unit fails, an emergency landing without undue hazards to persons or property on the surface. “(b) Over congested areas. Over any congested area of city, town, or settlement, or over any open air assemblage of persons, an altitude of 1,000 feet above the highest obstacle within a horizontal radius of 2,000 feet of the aircraft. “(c) Over other than congested areas. An altitude of 500 feet above the surface, except over open water or sparsely populated areas. In those cases, the aircraft may not be operated closer than 500 feet to any person, vessel, vehicle, or structure." [Helicopters have a special provision.] FAR 91.13(a), Careless or Reckless Operation is almost always thrown in by the FAA in operational violation cases. It provides: “(a) Aircraft operations for the purpose of air navigation. No person may operate an aircraft in a careless or reckless manner so as to endanger the life or property of another." The pilot didn’t feel that he had violated either regulation. He appealed the 60-day suspension to the NTSB. An evidentiary hearing was held before an NTSB law judge. The battle was over the actual altitude of the aircraft as it passed over the woman and her house. The woman testified to her estimate of the altitude of the aircraft using the trees on her property. On the other hand, the pilot, his father, and his brother each testified that the airplane was never closer than 500 feet. The law judge chose to believe the woman. The law judge did not credit the testimony of the pilot, his brother, or his father, probably considering their testimony self-serving, or maybe just in error. However, the law judge did throw out the FAR 91.119(a) charge and reduced the suspension to 45 days. The judge found that the FAA had not proved that the pilot could not have made a safe emergency landing in the event of a power failure. The pilot then appealed the law judge’s decision to the full NTSB, a procedure he was entitled to. The Board denied his appeal, affirming the judge’s decision and the 45-day suspension. The interesting aspect of the appeal was a challenge to the complaining witness’ ability to estimate altitude. Here is what the Board said: “Specifically, we do not agree that the Administrator's witness' altitude estimate was deficient because she did not herself express it in terms of feet above the ground. She had no hesitancy in asserting that the Cessna passed over her and her house at about two and a half times the height of the surrounding trees, established to be around 80 to 85 feet. Nothing in this record suggests that such an estimate is any less reliable than those that rest on an observer's professed or presumed expertise in judging distances." Whether or not the airplane flew below 500 feet on the pass, is not the main point. That was litigated and resolved. A low pass can lead to the suspension of a pilot’s certificate, even if the pilot honestly believes he or she operated in compliance with the regulations. Pilots need to know that, and make allowance for it. Copyright © Yodice Associates 2001. All rights reserved. John Yodice is the Senior Partner of the Law Offices of Yodice Associates, a law firm experienced in aviation legal matters involving DOT, FAA and TSA certification and compliance, corporate governance, aircraft transactions and more. www.yodice.com
0 Comments
Under the law of negligence, the law imposes on each person a duty to exercise "due care" to protect others from unreasonable risk. In the flight instruction situation, an instructor owes this duty of care to his student and others. If the instructor fails to exercise due care, the instructor is negligent, and is liable if the negligence causes damage. An instructor's FBO or flight school can be, and usually is, held liable for the instructor's negligence. There are sometimes defenses, such as the contributory or comparative negligence of the person damaged.
In one case, an instructor and his FBO were held to be negligent when a pre-solo student fell into a propeller while alighting from the training airplane. In another, a flight school was found to be negligent when a student on a solo flight crashed after failing to discover that the rear stick of his airplane was tied back with a seat belt. Another case involved a student and his instructor who were killed in a wake turbulence accident. The instructor and the FBO (and ATC) were found to be negligent because the instructor failed to delay the takeoff to allow the wake turbulence to dissipate. But the flight instructor and his employer are not always found to be negligent. An instructor was found not to be negligent when a student crashed after letting his airspeed get too low on approach. After the instructor tapped the airspeed indicator, the student pushed the stick forward abruptly. The aircraft crashed before the instructor could recover it. The court found that the instructor had not been negligent in failing to issue a verbal warning, or in failing to take control sooner. In another case a flight school was found not to be negligent for the crash of a student on his first solo cross-country flight. The flight school was sued for allegedly sending the student on cross-country when he wasn't ready. The court disagreed, finding that the student had been properly prepared. Even in these cases where the flight instructor and the FBO/flight school prevailed, you can expect that there were significant defense costs involved, and that the results were not that predictable, especially before a judge or jury unfamiliar with general aviation. [Aircraft insurers offer] insurance coverage at reasonable premiums specifically for the flight instructor. Some might question the adequacy of the liability limits available at affordable prices, but some is better than none, and they all typically provide for the cost of defense--which could be considerable. Copyright © Yodice Associates 2010. All rights reserved. John Yodice is the Senior Partner of the Law Offices of Yodice Associates, a law firm experienced in aviation legal matters involving DOT, FAA and TSA certification and compliance, corporate governance, aircraft transactions and more. www.yodice.com
There is no doubt that the pilot who was operating the aircraft when it crashed was a well-experienced (more than 15 years) commercial pilot and flight instructor with airplane single and multi-engine and instrument ratings. The problem was that, after his death, only a single logbook could be found among the pilot’s effects. The logbook could document only 236 pilot hours, all of which, according to the logbook, had been flown in single engine aircraft within approximately a two-month period earlier that same year. Obviously, the pilot had logged more hours, otherwise how did he get a commercial certificate and the additional instrument and multiengine ratings? Even the insurance company conceded that the pilot had flown more than was reflected in the logbook. Where there missing logbooks? Did the pilot fail to record his other time? Whatever the possible explanations, the issue came down to the meaning of the term “logged” as used in the policy. The policy does not define the term. Given the situation, the aircraft owner predictably argued that the term should be interpreted to mean hours actually flown but not necessarily recorded. After all, the actual time is what the insurance company should be interested in. The owner was adamant that the pilot had told him, and he believed, that the pilot had logged well over 1,500 hours of multiengine flight time, and over 50 hours in a Cessna 414, “and, indeed, much more than that.” As such, the amount of flight time the pilot actually had was a question of fact that the owners wanted the opportunity to prove in a trial. Not a bad argument considering that all flight time is not required to be recorded, and many pilots don’t record all of their flight time. FAR 61.51, the regulation that deals with “pilot logbooks,” provides that the only flight time that a pilot must log is the training and aeronautical experience used to meet the requirements for a certificate, rating, or flight review--and the aeronautical experience required for meeting the recent flight experience requirements. That’s all. The owners’ argument failed, both before the trial court that granted summary judgment to the insurance company (i.e., no trial), and on appeal. The courts’ decisions rested on the interpretation of the term logged in the policy. Both courts concluded that the term means “hours actually flown and reliably recorded in a flight time log.” If no reliable record could be produced, the insurance company wins, no need for a trial. In reaching this interpretation the appellate court noted that the obvious intent of the insurance company was to limit its liability for losses associated with inexperienced pilots. It is not unreasonable for an insurance company to require a record, said the court. “Human memory is so frail that a record needs to be made of the time, duration, point of departure, and destination of flights during which the [minimum] hours are accumulated. It is the record that gives reliability to the required time.” The appellate court’s interpretation also rested on what the court said was the accepted meaning of the term “logged” within the aviation industry. So, a “disastrous” result to seemingly innocent aircraft owners. When many of us, each year, are called upon to complete an application for aircraft insurance, note particularly that the application typically asks for “logged” pilot time, a term easily missed or misunderstood. That term should have special significance to us in light of this case. It’s also worth noting that if you are an aircraft owner who allows other pilots to fly your aircraft, visually check the pilot’s logbook to ensure that he or she has logged the flight time that will satisfy your insurance policy’s requirements. You may even consider making copies of the pertinent logbook pages for your records. Copyright © Yodice Associates 2005. All rights reserved. John Yodice is the Senior Partner of the Law Offices of Yodice Associates, a law firm experienced in aviation legal matters involving DOT, FAA and TSA certification and compliance, corporate governance, aircraft transactions and more. www.yodice.com
or revoke the airman’s FAA certificates. Query: Is that worth the violation of the spirit if not the actual wording of the Privacy Act? Do you notice anymore? Is that “insidious?”
Here is a more current example. Beginning in July of 2003, the Department of Transportation (that includes the FAA) and the Social Security Administration initiated a joint effort to identify the misuse of Social Security numbers by pilots. Somehow that effort got derailed into a record matching that identified a number of pilots with current medical certificates who were receiving Social Security disability benefits (an obvious “beneficent purpose”). They then narrowed their review to the 40,000 pilots residing in the northern half of California (that’s probably all if not most of them), identified 3,220 who were collecting benefits (some disability benefits), and then selected the 45 worst cases for criminal prosecution. In 14 cases the FAA issued emergency orders immediately revoking their pilots licenses and medical certificates. As best as we can tell, the 40,000 pilots (overwhelmingly innocent and law abiding) were not notified that their FAA records were being computer matched against Social Security computer records. That may not be the end of it. The DOT Inspector General has indicated, “As the results of this initiative involve only a portion of certificated pilots in California, it is important that FAA take steps to proactively identify and address similar falsifications occurring elsewhere across the greater community of certificated pilots. We recommend that FAA, working with SSA and the other disability benefit providers, expedite development and implementation of a strategy to carry out these checks and take appropriate certificate enforcement action where falsification is found. We would be pleased to assist FAA in exploring options for accomplishing this, to include database matching with record systems of the disability providers.” So, we may see more computer matching of our information on the FAA databases with other government databases. Where will it end? As the scope widens, the “beneficent” purposes likely will narrow and become more arguable. Our privacy is being chipped away by inches, insidiously. I must be clear that what I am talking about is only government computer matching, to which the Privacy Act is directed. Names, addresses, and certification of pilots on the FAA list are public information (unless a pilot opts out). Any member of the public is entitled to this public information and many use it for computer-matching purposes. That is a separate matter. It occurs to me that we pilots, in a spirit of cooperation, are unwittingly giving the FAA more ammunition than it is entitled to, to facilitate any future such efforts that may have more arguable “beneficent” purposes. An individual’s social security number is the ideal identifier for computer matching. The Privacy Act Statement on the Application For Airman Medical Certificate, required by the Privacy Act, tells us “Submission of your SSN is not required by law and is voluntary. Refusal to furnish your SSN will not result in the denial of any right, benefit, or privilege provided by law.” Why do most pilots voluntarily give their social security number? Why are we doing it? Probably because this trend has been so insidious, though many may be conscientiously doing it with full knowledge of what they are doing. I respect that. I, for one, am writing to the Secretary of the Department of Transportation, ultimately in charge of the records, asking him to remove my social security number from my FAA records. And, I won’t be furnishing it in any future applications to the FAA. This dangerous trend to the invasion of pilots’ privacy rights bears watching. If the FAA has lost control, it shouldn’t be the keeper of important information that other agencies have a mandate to keep private. One last word--while the FAA appears to be the culprit, reading between the lines, I get the feeling that the FAA is being forced into it, as it has been forced to front for the airspace and airport restrictions imposed on pilots since the September 11, 2001, terrorist bombings. Copyright © Yodice Associates 2005. All rights reserved. John Yodice is the Senior Partner of the Law Offices of Yodice Associates, a law firm experienced in aviation legal matters involving DOT, FAA and TSA certification and compliance, corporate governance, aircraft transactions and more. www.yodice.com
Pilot; Charitable Flights,” March 1996 Pilot; and “Shared Expenses,” March 1995 Pilot), such as shared-expense flights, flights incidental to a business or employment, charitable airlifts, sales demonstration flights, and glider towing. None of these exceptions are involved in this case.
The respondent in this case, an automobile service station operator, is a private pilot and aircraft owner. He received a call from a friend who had received a call from the manager of an air medical transportation service. The service operates two helicopters as air ambulances. The manager learned late on a Friday afternoon before a Labor Day weekend that one of the helicopters, which was on a mission involving a nurse, a patient, a doctor, and a pilot, had a mechanical problem and was grounded on a nearby island. The manager made a couple of calls to commercial operators to try to arrange air transportation for his mechanic to the island to get the helicopter flying again. He anticipated that the flight physician and nurse would also need transportation back, but they returned by other means. Because it was a holiday weekend, he had difficulty finding anyone available. Eventually he called a longtime acquaintance who he thought was a commercial operator (he actually was no longer a commercial operator). The acquaintance indicated that he was not available to take the flight himself, but he would try to get someone to do it. The manager ended up talking to the respondent. The respondent stated that he advised the manager in their initial telephone conversation that, although he did not do charter flights, he would take the flight. "He had asked how much it would be, and I said I wouldn't take any money." He agreed to help as a favor, not only to get an air ambulance back operating, but because, "if it ever happened to me, I'd want somebody to help me." An NTSB judge would later characterize him as a "good Samaritan", and his help as a "good deed." So, that day, the respondent, in his own Piper Lance, flew the mechanic to the island and came back with the pilot. The next morning, Saturday, he took the mechanic and the manager to the island to complete the repairs on the helicopter. Three flights were made in all. Here is where the situation gets sticky. The manager received an invoice for $300 from the longtime acquaintance, and he paid it. But, the respondent never received any compensation for the flights--not even for the fuel. Nor did the respondent expect to get paid or otherwise compensated. Even though the respondent, himself, did not get compensated, and did not expect any compensation, the FAA contended that he carried passengers for "compensation or hire." To demonstrate how strongly the FAA felt about it, the agency threw the book at the respondent. The FAA suspended his private pilot certificate for one year. The FAA not only charged him with violation of FAR 61.118 (now 61.113), but also a string of Part 135 violations (the Part governing commercial charter operators), and with careless or reckless operation in violation of FAR 91.13(a). The respondent appealed his case to the NTSB. There he found more understanding of his situation. The Board granted the respondent's appeal and dismissed the FAA complaint. The case before the Board seemed to turn on whether the respondent "should have known" that the flights were commercial. The Board distinguished an earlier similar case decided by Board, in which the pilot claimed that he was giving the other pilot flight instruction and had no knowledge of any arrangement with the passengers. He failed to ask any questions about why the passengers were on the flight. In that case, the Board concluded that the pilot knew or should have known that the flight was subject to Part 135. The pilot was found in violation. "The evidence in the instant case, on the other hand, does not support a similar finding. [The] respondent agreed to transport, in his own aircraft, [the ambulance service's] mechanic in order to help the air ambulance service regain the use of one of its two helicopters during a busy holiday weekend. He testified, and the law judge found, that he advised [the manager of the ambulance operation] the flight would not be a charter and there would be no charge. He did not allow [the manager] to pay for fuel, and the evidence did not show that he was ever reimbursed by anyone for the fuel he utilized,”. “Further, no evidence was introduced to show that respondent expected any return favor from or sought to build goodwill with [the manager], and there is no evidence to indicate that respondent worked in any way for or with [the former commercial operator]. There is also no evidence to indicate that respondent knew or should have known that [the former commercial operator] planned to charge [the manager] for the flights. In short, the evidence is insufficient to prove that the flights were operated for compensation or hire." This case has several messages for us. It reminds us of the dual limitation on the privileges of a private pilot. Not only must a private pilot not receive compensation, the pilot may not carry passengers or property for "compensation or hire" even though the pilot is not being paid. If there is any payment or compensation for the carriage, a private pilot may not command the flight. Similarly, although an ATP or commercial pilot may be compensated for serving as pilot in command of an aircraft carrying passengers or property for compensation or hire, he or she must do so under the requirements of FAR Part 135. Even if the pilot in this case had an ATP or commercial certificate, he no doubt would have had the same problem with the FAA. This case also cautions us to be on our guard to question circumstances that suggest passengers or property may be carried on a flight for "compensation or hire." Even if we don't actually know the status of our passengers or cargo, we are responsible if we "should have known." Finally, this case teaches us how seriously the FAA considers such violations. A one-year suspension of a pilot certificate is pretty serious stuff. Copyright © Yodice Associates 1999. All rights reserved. John Yodice is the Senior Partner of the Law Offices of Yodice Associates, a law firm experienced in aviation legal matters involving DOT, FAA and TSA certification and compliance, corporate governance, aircraft transactions and more. www.yodice.com
a loss. A "conflict alert" alarm goes off in the FAA ATC facility. Once the air traffic situation is resolved (happily virtually all are), then the "quality assurance" folks in the facility conduct an investigation. The investigation includes reviewing the computerized radar data that shows the tracks and altitudes of the flights involved, as well as the tapes of the relevant ATC communications that can be integrated with the radar data. If the loss of separation is confirmed and there was no emergency or other acceptable explanation, the matter is referred for prosecution.
This case also involved another circumstance that prompts an enhanced penalty -- a prior violation. The pilot had a 5-year-old prior violation in which he deviated from an ATC instruction under similar circumstances. After that violation, the pilot underwent extensive remedial training to regain his certificates. In this case the pilot appealed the suspension to the National Transportation Safety Board, as he was entitled to do. After a hearing, an NTSB judge reduced the period of suspension from 180 to 160 days. In the appeal the pilot explained that he was experiencing turbulence and bad weather. He had two of his grandsons in the aircraft, and that one of them had motion sickness as a result of the turbulence. All the while, he was seeking deviation to avoid the weather. He believed that ATC had granted his request for block altitude clearance. He said that when he was in the Denver Approach area, he received an altitude of 17,000 feet after he requested it, and that, once he left Denver Approach and was handed off to Denver Center, he was already on the block clearance. He tried to contact Denver Center several times and made a request for a deviation left and right, and up and down for 1,000 feet, but that he received no response. In fact, the Center did not hear all of the calls. Another aircraft relayed the message for him, and he was given a right heading. He went to his assigned heading, maintaining FL 180, and he heard, "deviation approved." Based on this, he believed that ATC had granted his request for block clearance. While he was at FL 180, he encountered more turbulence and bad weather. He turned around to help his grandson who had vomited. His other grandson told the pilot "you are down," and pointed to the altitude. He told his grandson that his altitude was permissible because he was on a block clearance. The controllers disputed that a block clearance had been granted. The tapes indicated that communications were difficult, and involved relayed transmissions. The law judge determined that ATC never received the request for a deviation. The law judge was critical of the pilot's failure to use his aircraft call sign and repeat back the ATC instruction, instead saying "thank you" several times. These contributed to the communications problems. In the end, the NTSB rejected the pilot's appeal. In deciding this case, the NTSB made this unfortunate statement: "We further note that respondent's [the pilot's] admitted act of turning around to assist his sick grandson while encountering turbulence amounts to a violation of FAR 91.13(a)." Because the computerized ATC radar data was for air traffic control purposes and not for enforcement of the regulations, there had been an FAA Compliance/Enforcement Bulletin allowing merely an administrative action (a warning notice but no certificate suspension) in the case of a computer detected altitude deviation of 500 feet or less, where no near midair collision resulted or there were no other aggravating circumstances. In 2007, when the FAA issued its amended Compliance and Enforcement Program, it cancelled its earlier Program that technically cancelled this Bulletin. FAA may still be informally honoring this policy. We hope so. But even so, historically the FAA has not applied the policy where there was a loss of standard separation. Copyright © Yodice Associates 2009. All rights reserved. John Yodice is the Senior Partner of the Law Offices of Yodice Associates, a law firm experienced in aviation legal matters involving DOT, FAA and TSA certification and compliance, corporate governance, aircraft transactions and more. www.yodice.com
and a sale “as is,” these techniques don’t always stop legal claims about defects that are discovered by the buyer after the sale.
Here is a legal decision that illustrates the kind of claims that can be made. It is worth noting because there are not a lot of reported legal decisions dealing with this situation. That’s mainly because these cases are expensive to litigate when compared to the costs of repairs, and so they are usually settled. This case involved a multi-million-dollar aircraft, which probably accounts for the fact that we have the benefit of a legal decision that must have cost the parties a lot of money to litigate. The case involved the sale and resale of a 1969 Hawker Siddeley jet airplane. The first seller had owned it for more than 27 years. Then the owner sold it “as is, where is” to a commercial airplane refurbisher. The refurbisher, perhaps after some spiffing-up, then sold it to our plaintiff-buyer, again “as is, where is.” (The buyer became the plaintiff in the lawsuit we are reporting, so we’ll call it the “plaintiff-buyer” to distinguish it from the refurbisher-buyer-then seller.) It sold for $2.2 million dollars. Because the sale was “as is,” the plaintiff-buyer had a pre-purchase inspection done on the aircraft, and, based on the inspection, bought it. Guess what? More than a year after buying the Hawker, the plaintiff-buyer discovered corrosion on various parts. It came to light when the plaintiff-buyer hired an aircraft repair and maintenance company to do an inspection of the plane. The corrosion was extensive enough to render the airplane un-airworthy, and very expensive to repair. The plaintiff-buyer wanted satisfaction from someone and ultimately sued the first seller as well as the company that did the pre-purchase inspection. For some reason not explained in the court decision, the plaintiff-buyer did not sue the refurbisher from whom he bought the plane. And, the decision does not tell us what happened to the part of the suit against the pre-purchase inspector. But the decision goes into some detail about the claims against the first seller, and gives us some interesting insights into the law that was applied. The plaintiff-buyer, who paid $2.2 million for the plane, claimed as damages in the lawsuit $2,450,000 in losses, consisting of the costs for repairing the corrosion, lost leasing profits, and the subsequent sale of the diminished-value Hawker for $950,000. The plaintiff-buyer alleged three causes of action against the first seller. The first two were in tort (as distinguished from contract, since there was no contract of sale between the first seller and the plaintiff-buyer). The torts were fraudulent misrepresentation and negligent misrepresentation. The third cause of action was for breach of express warranty. All three of these causes of action relate to a very familiar and recommended technique – the review of the aircraft’s logbooks prior to purchase. The Hawker’s logbooks indicated that the aircraft had undergone a 600-hour and a 48-month radiographic (x-ray) inspection. The results of the inspection were recorded in the Hawker’s logbooks. The logbook entry noted no problems and stated that the Hawker was “approved for return to service.” In fact, the results of the x-rays revealed 22 points of corrosion. The logbook entries, however, do not indicate that the first seller discovered or repaired the corrosion. Based on the logbook entries and the x-rays, the plaintiff-buyer alleged that the corrosion existed when the first seller owned the Hawker, and the first seller either had actually discovered or should have discovered the corrosion. In these misrepresentation (tort) claims, the plaintiff-buyer alleged that the first seller misrepresented the Hawker’s condition when the first seller’s mechanics failed to record the corrosion in the airplane’s logbook. The plaintiff-buyer claimed that it relied on these misrepresentations in the logbook before deciding to purchase the Hawker from the refurbisher. In the breach of warranty (contract) claim, the plaintiff-buyer claimed that the logbook entries constituted express warranties of the Hawker’s condition and airworthiness. The first seller filed motions to dismiss the plaintiff-buyer’s claims. As a procedural matter, in ruling on a motion to dismiss, the court accepts as true the well-pled allegations of the complaint. Even considering the allegations as true at this stage in the proceedings, the court, in a written decision, dismissed the fraudulent misrepresentation and negligent misrepresentation claims. The court asked for further briefing on the breach-of-express-warranty claim. In dismissing the misrepresentation claims, the court applied the Michigan economic loss doctrine. Under that doctrine there is no cause of action in tort for fraudulent or negligent misrepresentation in connection the sale of an allegedly defective good where the only loss suffered is economic (as opposed to “unanticipated physical injury”). Rather, “where a purchaser’s expectations in a sale are frustrated … his remedy is said to be in contract alone, for he has suffered only ‘economic losses.’” Of course, in this case, there was no contract between the first seller and the plaintiff-buyer, and the losses were economic. Many of you may remember that I previously reported two cases indicating that the display of aircraft logbooks by a seller to a buyer can constitute an express warranty in contract that the entries are accurate (see “Washington Counsel: Warranties—Expressed and Implied,” June 1981 Pilot). Since there was no contract in this case, the plaintiff-buyer presented a different question. That is, do logbooks in and of themselves create a duty that may be the basis of a lawsuit in tort by a purchaser who relied on them? The court had something to say on this interesting question. The plaintiff-buyer sought to avoid the application of the economic-loss doctrine by arguing that the former owner had an “extra-contractual” obligation to make accurate and complete disclosures in the Hawker’s logbook. This was an attempt to create a duty based on federal aviation regulation that requires accurate logbooks. The court held that the Federal Aviation Act does not provide for a private right of action for violations of the act or regulation promulgated under the act. On the breach of warranty claim, the first buyer sought dismissal on the basis there was no contract between the parties, and furthermore that there was no legal basis for extending the alleged warranties to remote buyers. The court indicated that it was not ready to address the breach of warranty claim. It raised the issue whether the second buyer’s failure to sue the refurbisher from whom it bought the plane may preclude the court from rendering a judgment on the dispute between the first seller and the plaintiff-buyer. The court considered this a threshold issue to the breach of warranty claim, and wanted more briefing from the parties on this issue. Two of the three causes of action were dismissed, and the third awaiting further briefing by the attorneys. The current status of the case is that it is now stayed because of an intervening bankruptcy, so we will not soon know the end of the story. Nevertheless, this legal decision gives us some interesting insights into how enterprising lawyers may try to avoid the techniques that have been developed to put some certainty into aircraft sales transactions. Copyright © Yodice Associates 2001. All rights reserved. John Yodice is the Senior Partner of the Law Offices of Yodice Associates, a law firm experienced in aviation legal matters involving DOT, FAA and TSA certification and compliance, corporate governance, aircraft transactions and more. www.yodice.com
pilot in command unless he actually was. He did originally claim some time as second in command because the company listed him as second in command on the company manifests for the flights. In two entries, amounting to less than 8 hours, he logged this second-in-command time with explanatory notes such as “charter crew concept.” But then he was told by the POI that the flight could not be logged as second in command because he was technically not a required flight crewmember on the Part 135 flights and the company was not approved to train second in command. So, he crossed out the two second-in-command entries but still listed the total time. After that, while he did not log the time as second in command, in the remarks section he recorded that he was “acting” second in command. He felt that since he was an observer, performing functions, and being paid by the company, it was proper. He saw nothing in the regulations that prevented it. The company knew how he was logging the time.
Here is how his logged flight time was called into question. He was ready to upgrade to captain on the Baron. He was scheduled with the company’s FAA Principal Operations Inspector to take a check ride in the Baron for the addition of multiengine privileges under Part 135. The company, as a favor to him, asked the FAA inspector to give him the practical test for an airline transport pilot certificate at the same time using the company Baron. He presented himself to the FAA inspector with his application and logbook to take the certification test. On his application (FAA Form 8710-1, Airman Certificate and/or Rating Application), he claimed 1926 hours of total pilot time, 1846 hours of pilot-in-command time, and 598 hours of cross country pilot-in-command time. These times came right out of his logbook, and included the time he flew for the company. The inspector, in reviewing the logbooks to confirm the flight time, noticed that some of the entries showed time in multiengine aircraft, some in fairly sophisticated multiengine aircraft (the King Air), and some indicated that the time was flown under Part 135 or annotated with the word “charter.” The inspector knew that the pilot had not yet been qualified to fly multiengine under Part 135. The inspector questioned the entries. After some discussion with the inspector, including a review of Part 61, the pilot became convinced that he had been mistaken in how he recorded some of the time. So, he made changes to the entries in his logbook to comport with what the inspector told him he could log under Part 61. Even though none of the disputed time was necessary for the ATP or Part 135 multiengine check, that didn’t solve his problem. The check ride was suspended. The FAA ultimately charged him with a violation of FAR 61.59. The FAA, on an emergency basis (an immediate grounding), revoked all of his FAA certificates, including his commercial pilot and flight instructor certificates. The FAA charges focused on ten entries in his logbook, amounting to some 23 hours of pilot time, all paid time, flying for the company. Was the pilot padding his time, or more importantly, was he guilty of fraud and intentional falsification in violation of FAR 61.59? The FAA believed so, and so did the NTSB. The pilot appealed the case to the NTSB. The NTSB sustained the FAA charges as well as the revocation of all of his certificates. Whether we agree or disagree with the outcome of this case, it is a dramatic illustration of what can happen to a pilot who, innocently or otherwise, pads his or her flight time. Pilots need to know about it. Let’s take a look at the regulation in question. FAR 61.59(a) provides that: “No person may make or cause to be made: (1)Any fraudulent or intentionally false statement on any application for a certificate, rating, authorization, or duplicate thereof, issued under this part [Part 61, which deals with the certification of pilots, flight instructors, and ground instructors]; (2)Any fraudulent or intentionally false entry in any logbook, record, or report that is required to be kept, made, or used to show compliance with any requirement for the issuance or exercise of the privileges of any certificate, rating, or authorization under this part [the same Part 61].” Recognizing how strict the FAA and NTSB can be, it is also a good idea to review FAR 61.51 which covers pilot logbooks, and tells in detail what needs to be logged, and how. FAR 61.51 always generates a lot of questions from pilots. It is too long to deal with in this column. We will address it in future columns. Copyright © Yodice Associates 2000. All rights reserved. John Yodice is the Senior Partner of the Law Offices of Yodice Associates, a law firm experienced in aviation legal matters involving DOT, FAA and TSA certification and compliance, corporate governance, aircraft transactions and more. www.yodice.com
That’s because, in order to get a special VFR clearance from the ATC facility controlling the airspace, ground visibility at the departure airport must be at least one statute mile. If ground visibility is not reported at the airport, as in this situation, then flight visibility must be at least one statute mile.
This has been the problem. Except for the regulatory change, technically, a pilot on the ground cannot determine flight visibility. Flight visibility is by definition determined by a pilot from the cockpit. The FAA interprets this definition to mean that flight visibility can only be determined when an aircraft is airborne. Ground visibility, on the other hand, is an officially reported condition, not a pilot observed condition. Ground visibility is defined to be “the prevailing horizontal visibility near the earth’s surface as reported by the United States Weather Service or an accredited observer.” A pilot, unless he/she also happens to be an accredited weather observer, cannot report ground visibility. Unless there happens to be a pilot in flight who reports back the flight visibility conditions (who doesn’t have to be an accredited observer), our pilot on the ground is stuck. ATC has been reluctant to issue a special VFR clearance when the weather at the main airport was reported to be visibility less than a mile. A regulatory change solves this situation, and in explaining it, gives us an opportunity to review the “special VFR” regulation. Let’s start with the basics (forgive the pun) of FAR 91.155 that all pilots know but like to be refreshed about from time to time. (There are additional requirements for student and recreational pilots). Let’s look particularly at the “basic” (as distinguished from “special”) VFR weather minimums that apply to VFR operations at an airport within controlled airspace. By that I mean an airport that has controlled airspace that begins at the surface of the airport. That’s any airport within Class B, C, and D airspace. That’s also any airport within Class E airspace that begins at the surface of the airport (not an airport that has Class G airspace at its surface with Class E airspace above). The basic VFR visibility minimums that apply in this airspace are: at least three statute miles ground visibility, and at least three statute miles flight visibility. In other words, a pilot may not operate an aircraft to or from such an airport under VFR with less than three miles visibility, both ground and flight. Also as part of the basic VFR requirements, if the ceiling being reported at the airport is less than 1,000 feet, an aircraft may not be operated VFR beneath the ceiling. For completeness we must mention that within this airspace the “basic” cloud clearance minimums also apply. Here they are. A pilot may not operate an aircraft at a distance from clouds that is less than 500 feet below, 1,000 feet above, and 2,000 feet horizontally. (Not relevant here, but remember that there are stricter minimums in controlled airspace above 10,000 feet MSL.) There is one interesting exception to these cloud clearance requirements. In Class B airspace, which presumably has the highest density of traffic, an aircraft may be operated closer to clouds than these minimums. The minimum is “clear of clouds,” the same minimum we see in some Class G, uncontrolled airspace, and in special VFR operations. It makes sense, if you think about it. All aircraft in Class B airspace are being provided separation service by ATC. And it would cause problems for the controllers if pilots refused radar vectors or routings because following them would cause less than the required cloud clearances. Which brings us to the “special VFR” rules of FAR 91.157. We can get a break from the “basic” minimums if we first obtain a special VFR clearance from the ATC facility that has jurisdiction of the airspace. Then the “special” and not the “basic” VFR minimums apply. The special VFR weather minimums are one-mile flight visibility and clear of clouds. Under the special VFR rules, in addition to the flight visibility minimum, there is also a ground visibility minimum. An aircraft may not takeoff or land under special VFR unless ground visibility is at least one mile. If ground visibility is not reported, then flight visibility must be at least one statute mile. Back to our pilot on the ground at the satellite airport. He can’t take off because ground visibility is not reported at the satellite airport, and he can’t make a flight visibility determination because he is not in flight. This is a dilemma that has now been resolved. Since May 23, 2000, FAR 91.157 has been amended to expand the term “flight visibility” to include the visibility from the cockpit of an aircraft in takeoff position at a satellite airport that does not have weather reporting capabilities. This allows a pilot at such an airport to determine whether the visibility minimums exist for a special VFR departure. If the pilot on the ground determines that the visibility is one mile or more, special VFR is permissible. The amendment makes clear that a pilot’s determination of flight visibility from the cockpit of an aircraft on the ground is only for the purpose of the special VFR rule. All other flight visibility determinations must be made in flight. Similarly, it makes clear that this visibility determination is not an official ground visibility report, since the pilot is not an official weather observer. The amendment also makes clear that this relaxation applies only to flights conducted under Part 91. The rest of the rules governing special VFR operations still apply. For special VFR at night, the pilot must be rated and current for instrument flight, and the aircraft must be equipped for instrument flight. For this rule (it's different for other rules) night is considered to be the time between sunset and sunrise. (In Alaska, the "instrument" requirement applies when the sun is less than 6 degrees above the horizon.) Helicopter operators get some additional benefits. A helicopter may be operated special VFR without the one-mile visibility minimum. And for special VFR at night, a helicopter pilot does not have to be instrument rated, and the helicopter does not have to be equipped for IFR. While a special VFR clearance may be obtained at most airports within controlled airspace, it is not permitted for fixed-wing aircraft at some 33 specifically identified airports; they are indicated on visual charts and in aeronautical publications. As you would guess, they are the airports with the highest traffic density. Our explanation of the technical difference between ground and flight visibility is important to pilots beyond this rule change. Where an airport in controlled airspace officially reports the weather, a pilot operating an aircraft at that airport (taking off, landing, or entering the traffic pattern) is bound by the reported ground visibility. Otherwise, and most often, the visibility minimum is flight visibility as observed by the pilot from the cockpit. For example, an aircraft transiting the controlled airspace, but not operating at the airport, must maintain flight visibility of at least three miles but is not bound by the officially reported ground visibility. Copyright © Yodice Associates 2000. All rights reserved. John Yodice is the Senior Partner of the Law Offices of Yodice Associates, a law firm experienced in aviation legal matters involving DOT, FAA and TSA certification and compliance, corporate governance, aircraft transactions and more. www.yodice.com |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. Archives
October 2024
Categories |