How to Become a Helicopter Pilot, Part II: The Big Tests

I want pilots to know what they’re doing — and prove it.

In the first part of this post, I explained the prerequisites to taking the tests you need to take to become a pilot. If you haven’t read that yet, read it now.

In this part, I’ll tell you about the two tests: the knowledge (AKA “written”) test and the practical test (AKA “check ride”). You’ll also find a few links to useful resources to help you pass them.

Written Test

The first of two tests you must pass to become a helicopter pilot is the knowledge test, which is also known as the “written test.” This is the test that has Stu — remember the blog reader from Part I? — so worried.

The written test is proof that you understand all the things you learned in ground school. If you don’t know or understand these things, you won’t pass the test.

The written test isn’t really a written test. It’s a multiple choice test with four possible answers per question. You can get a study guide that actually lists all the questions with their answers. This is possibly the best way to cram for the test — if you like to cram. It’s not the best way to learn the material, though.

Want to see what’s on the test? Download all the questions.

Want to learn? Talk to a flight instructor and other pilots. Watch the videos. Read the AIM. Read articles in Vertical, Rotor & Wing, HeliNews, and even Flight Training. Visit blogs and forums where experienced pilots discuss flying issues. Ask questions; listen to answers. Hang out at airports. Buy a scanner and listen to the local airport chatter.

The written test and ground school knowledge are important . It makes me very sad that Stu (and so many others like him) isn’t taking it as seriously as he should. After all, the first time he gets hit with LTE in a hover, is he going to know how it’s caused and what he can do to stop it? When he does a photo flight with a fattie on board on a hot day in that R22, will he know how to avoid settling with power? Will he understand the danger of thunderstorms or virga or what a lenticular cloud means? Will he know what to expect when flying close over the top of a mountain ridge with a tail wind? Will he be able to read a chart well enough to keep out of a restricted area or learn whether military operations in an MOA affect his operating altitude? Will he bust Class Bravo airspace because he doesn’t know which magic words from ATC grant him entry? When the clutch light flickers on in his R22, will he know what to do?

How can anyone consider himself a pilot if he doesn’t possess the basic knowledge required to be a pilot? Passing a multiple choice test about the basics of flying the aircraft is the least a future pilot should be required to do.

And you must pass the knowledge test before you can move forward to take the big test. FAR Part 61.39, “Prerequisites for Practical Tests,” starts with:

(a) Except as provided in paragraphs (b) and (c) of this section, to be eligible for a practical test for a certificate or rating issued under this part, an applicant must:
(1) Pass the required knowledge test within the 24-calendar-month period preceding the month the applicant completes the practical test, if a knowledge test is required;
(2) Present the knowledge test report at the time of application for the practical test, if a knowledge test is required;

It’s a really good idea to take and pass the knowledge test as soon as you get the required endorsement. It gets a big part of the learning process out of the way, clearing your mind so you can concentrate on the flying and use your knowledge to understand how the flying works.

It also starts a clock ticking: once you pass, you have just 2 years to take and pass practical test. Otherwise, you’ll have to take the written test all over again. How’s that for a motivator?

Check Ride

Once you’ve met all the other requirements above and have passed your written text, you’re ready for the practical test, which is better known as a “check ride” or “check flight.” The practical test is administered by a special examiner who is authorized by the FAA. In some instances, it might be a CFI at your flight school. It could also be someone who works directly or indirectly for the FAA.

I personally believe that a check ride with the FAA or an examiner not employed by your flight school is a better check ride. Your flight school has too much riding on your test and might pass or fail you based on any number of factors other than your knowledge or ability.

Did you pay a flat fee for all your training with a guarantee of completion with a set number of flight hours? Are you near the end of that time? What’s the flight school’s motivation? Do you really want to become a helicopter pilot if you’re not ready? Sadly, a now-defunct flight school that passed too many students before they were ready has gotten a reputation for it. Many of those students, now pilots looking for jobs, aren’t even getting interviews.

Don’t Get Milked!

In 2001, I was ready to take my commercial check ride. My CFI signed me off just before he left for a job at the Grand Canyon. But my new CFI, following instructions from the chief flight instructor, claimed I couldn’t perform the most basic of maneuvers. They refused to give me a stage check I needed to get an endorsement for my check ride. Shocked, I left the flight school and went to another. I took and passed my check ride after only 10 days there.

It was pretty obvious that the first school wanted to keep my $200/hour of dual flight revenue flowing in as long as possible.

Or perhaps the flight school’s enrollment is down and they need your hourly dual rate revenue to pay their bills. What’s the flight school’s motivation? Do you really want to keep financing your flight school?

Before I go any further, I should remind you that before you take your practical test, you need to meet the rest of the requirements of FAR Part 61.39, “Prerequisites for practical tests.” I won’t quote them here; use the link to read them for yourself. In general, no good flight school will sign you off until you meet these requirements. If they do and you go to take the test, you’re likely to have the test stopped before it gets going. That would be a real embarrassment, because it would show the examiner that you didn’t bother to read Part 61.39 and have wasted his time.

The practical test is actually two tests in one. The first part is an oral exam, where the examiner asks a bunch of questions he thinks you need to know answers for. These are usually the same questions covered in the written test — but there’s no multiple choice crutch to lean on. There are also questions specific to the helicopter you’ll be tested in. Better know the engine horsepower, RPM limits, emergency procedures, fuel capacity, best RPM and speed settings to extend your range in autorotation, and just about anything else in the POH. This part of the test can be as short as an hour or as long as three or four. It depends on the examiner and how confident you can make him about your knowledge.

Once the oral part is finished, the flight part begins. FAR Part 61.43, “Practical Tests: General Procedures,” gives a good idea of what the goal is. It starts with:

(a) Except as provided in paragraph (b) of this section, the ability of an applicant for a certificate or rating issued under this part to perform the required tasks on the practical test is based on that applicant’s ability to safely:
(1) Perform the tasks specified in the areas of operation for the certificate or rating sought within the approved standards;
(2) Demonstrate mastery of the aircraft with the successful outcome of each task performed never seriously in doubt;
(3) Demonstrate satisfactory proficiency and competency within the approved standards;
(4) Demonstrate sound judgment; and
(5) Demonstrate single-pilot competence if the aircraft is type certificated for single-pilot operations.

This is the meat of the matter. Does the pilot know what he’s doing? Can he prove it beyond doubt?

The flight part of the test usually includes preflight inspection with questions, examination of aircraft documents, and the flight itself. Then you fly. From the moment you step in to the moment you step out, the examiner is watching you. If he thinks, for even a moment, that you’re unsafe or don’t know what you’re doing, he’ll fail you. If you scare the crap out of him — or even make a big boo-boo — he’ll stop the test.

Want to know what the entire practical test will cover? Download the Practical Test Standards.

Pass it and you’re a pilot.

And That’s All There Is to It

Yes, the heading is a joke. Getting a pilot’s license is not easy. But should it be?

Let’s face it: a pilot flies aircraft over the ground. If he screws up and crashes, he can kill innocent people on the ground as well as his passengers. It’s a heavy responsibility. Don’t you want pilots to know what they’re doing? I do.

Flying is not something to be taken lightly. Want proof? Search this. I’d say that 95% of aviation accidents are due, in one way or another, to pilot error. Don’t think so? Read the reports. I do.

My message for “Stu” is this: If you want to be a pilot, get serious about it. Study hard, learn what pilots need to know. Stop making excuses. Put up or shut up.

Because the last thing the world needs is another “lazy” pilot.

How to Become a Helicopter Pilot, Part I: Before the Tests

It can’t be too easy, can it?

A few weeks ago, I got this e-mail message from a blog reader. In an effort to keep him anonymous, let’s call him Stu (short for student). Here’s what he had to say:

Perhaps you could post an article about the difficulties of initial licensing. I have some 40+ hours of instruction and believe I can fly a R22 quite well. My problem is the written test. I just can not get my arms around studying for and taking it. Partially due to time constraints, partially due to me being much better at practical things than book learning.. and partially of course, laziness.

I know I have to do it.. I just procrastinate a lot and simply have not gotten around to studying.. nor of course taking the test itself.

Any words or advice, thoughts, inspiration (LOL).

I wrote back, telling him that he’d just given me a topic for a blog post. I finally have time to write it.

So allow me to explain what you need to do to become a private helicopter pilot. In this first post, I’ll talk about the pre-test requirements. In the second part, I’ll talk about the tests and link to some useful resources that can help you pass them.

Hours

There’s a lot in that e-mail message, so I’ll start at the top. Stu says he has “some 40+ hours of instruction” and believes he “can fly an R22 quite well.” That’s great. If it’s true, it also makes him a better than average pilot. Most pilots need at least 60 hours of flight time before they’re proficient enough to take a check ride.

FAR Part 61.109, “Aeronautical experience” states, in part:

(c) For a helicopter rating. Except as provided in paragraph (k) of this section, a person who applies for a private pilot certificate with rotorcraft category and helicopter class rating must log at least 40 hours of flight time that includes at least 20 hours of flight training from an authorized instructor and 10 hours of solo flight training in the areas of operation listed in Sec. 61.107(b)(3) of this part, and the training must include at least–
(1) 3 hours of cross-country flight training in a helicopter;
(2) Except as provided in Sec. 61.110 of this part, 3 hours of night flight training in a helicopter that includes–
(i) One cross-country flight of over 50 nautical miles total distance; and
(ii) 10 takeoffs and 10 landings to a full stop (with each landing involving a flight in the traffic pattern) at an airport.
(3) 3 hours of flight training in preparation for the practical test in a helicopter, which must have been performed within 60 days preceding the date of the test; and
(4) 10 hours of solo flight time in a helicopter, consisting of at least–
(i) 3 hours cross-country time;
(ii) One solo cross-country flight of at least 75 nautical miles total distance, with landings at a minimum of three points, and one segment of the flight being a straight-line distance of at least 25 nautical miles between the takeoff and landing locations; and
(iii) Three takeoffs and three landings to a full stop (with each landing involving a flight in the traffic pattern) at an airport with an operating control tower.

The short version of this is that to be a private helicopter pilot, you need 40 hours of flight time, of which 20 must be dual, 10 solo, and 3 cross-country. Stu might meet this requirement.

Training

It isn’t enough to have the hours you need to be a pilot. You must also meet the requirements of FAR Part 61.107, “Flight Proficiency.” It points out, in part:

(a) General. A person who applies for a private pilot certificate must receive and log ground and flight training from an authorized instructor on the areas of operation of this section that apply to the aircraft category and class rating sought.
(b) Areas of operation.

(3) For a rotorcraft category rating with a helicopter class rating:
(i) Preflight preparation;
(ii) Preflight procedures;
(iii) Airport and heliport operations;
(iv) Hovering maneuvers;
(v) Takeoffs, landings, and go-arounds;
(vi) Performance maneuvers;
(vii) Navigation;
(viii) Emergency operations;
(ix) Night operations, except as provided in Sec. 61.110 of this part; and
(x) Postflight procedures.

This means it isn’t enough to just get 40 hours that meet the requirements of Part 61.109. You must also get training on all of these areas from an “authorized instructor,” or CFI. If Stu went to a reputable training organization to get his flight training, he might meet all of these requirement’s too.

Ground School

Aeronautical knowledge or “ground school” training is also required, although the FAA does not specify a minimum amount of time. This training helps a pilot understand the important part of flying: aerodynamics, aircraft operations, communications, weather, navigation, flight planning — the list goes on and on.

FAR Part 61.105, “Aeronautical knowledge,” gets pretty specific when it states:

(a) General. A person who is applying for a private pilot certificate must receive and log ground training from an authorized instructor or complete a home-study course on the aeronautical knowledge areas of paragraph (b) of this section that apply to the aircraft category and class rating sought.
(b) Aeronautical knowledge areas. (1) Applicable Federal Aviation Regulations of this chapter that relate to private pilot privileges, limitations, and flight operations;
(2) Accident reporting requirements of the National Transportation Safety Board;
(3) Use of the applicable portions of the “Aeronautical Information Manual” and FAA advisory circulars;
(4) Use of aeronautical charts for VFR navigation using pilotage, dead reckoning, and navigation systems;
(5) Radio communication procedures;
(6) Recognition of critical weather situations from the ground and in flight, windshear avoidance, and the procurement and use of aeronautical weather reports and forecasts;
(7) Safe and efficient operation of aircraft, including collision avoidance, and recognition and avoidance of wake turbulence;
(8) Effects of density altitude on takeoff and climb performance;
(9) Weight and balance computations;
(10) Principles of aerodynamics, powerplants, and aircraft systems;
(11) Stall awareness, spin entry, spins, and spin recovery techniques for the airplane and glider category ratings;
(12) Aeronautical decision making and judgment; and
(13) Preflight action that includes–
(i) How to obtain information on runway lengths at airports of intended use, data on takeoff and landing distances, weather reports and forecasts, and fuel requirements; and
(ii) How to plan for alternatives if the planned flight cannot be completed or delays are encountered.

So it isn’t enough to know how to fly the aircraft. You need to know all the other things that are part of being a pilot. That’s what ground school is about.

There is a way to complete ground school quicker, more conveniently, and probably more cost-effectively: buy a video training course. I used the King Schools course for my primary training as a way to supplement ground school. John and Martha may be among the most corny and/or boring people on the planet, but they do cover all the basics very well. When I used the course back in the late 1990s, it came with a certificate that can could be used as certification that I’d completed ground school training. (Remember that the FAA says a “home study course” is okay.) Of course, your CFI won’t sign off on you unless he knows that you’ve covered all that material and understand it, so don’t be surprised if you still need additional ground school after watching all those videos. Still, when I took the written test right after watching the videos for days on end, I passed easily with a 94.

Endorsements

Before I go any further and start talking about tests, I do need to comment on endorsements or “sign offs.” To solo, you need an endorsement. To take the written test, you need an endorsement. To take a check ride, you need an endorsement.

What is an endorsement? It’s a signed and dated note in your logbook that confirms you’re ready to do whatever the endorsement is good for: solo, take the written test, take the check ride.

Who gives you your endorsements? Usually, it’s your flight instructor, but in some instances, it could be another CFI at your flight school. Good flight schools often require you to take a “stage check” with another CFI before getting an important endorsement. This helps prevent an ineffective CFI from pushing a student forward when he’s not ready. It also helps identify ineffective CFIs and unprepared students.

This is the gotcha that a lot of student pilots don’t get. It isn’t enough to have the 40 hours and meet the requirements of Parts 61.109, 61.105, and 61.107 quoted above. You also have to be able to prove that you have the knowledge you need to pass the written test and that you can perform the maneuvers you’ll be required to perform on a check ride.

And in the real world, 40 hours usually isn’t enough flight time to get the endorsements you need to move forward.

Up Next

In the second part of this article, I’ll tell you about the two tests you need to take and pass to become a private helicopter pilot. I’ll also provide links to some resources you might find helpful for preparing for — and hopefully passing — these tests.

Real Pilot Experience

Not all flying hours are equal.

A fellow helicopter pilot and I often debate the merits of the current system of pilot experience building.

In the U.S., a pilot generally gets his (or her) private, commercial, and CFI ratings, often picking up an instrument rating along the way. He then spends the next 500 to 1000 hours as a flight instructor, teaching other people how to fly under the close supervision of a chief flight instructor. With the golden number of hours — 1,000, for most helicopter pilot jobs — logged, the pilot goes on to an entry level position in a company where he’s closely supervised by a chief pilot who calls all the shots. Through the logging of time in various aircraft, the pilot works his way up to better-paying, more challenging jobs.

Parked in an Orchard
My helicopter, parked beside a pond in an orchard, waiting for rain during cherry season.

My friend and I didn’t follow this typical career path. Instead, we learned to fly, bought our own helicopters, and started our own flying businesses, learning through more varied experiences in a much shorter time. We both worked closely with the FAA to get our Part 135 certificates and pass annual check rides and inspections. And we generally agree that the hours we’ve logged are “worth” more than those logged by a typical pilot on the typical career path.

Now I know that the mere idea that all logged hours are not the same will bother a bunch of readers who are pilots on that typical career path. So I’ve decided to provide a comparative list of experiences based on real-life pilots so you can objectively consider my argument.

I recently had the opportunity to fly with two relatively new helicopter pilots. And a year ago, I flew with another one. I spent more than 14 hours of flight time with all three of them. Here’s how their experience stacks up against mine.

ThemMe
All three of these guys had private, commercial, and certified flight instructor (CFI) endorsements. At least one also had an instrument rating and a CFII rating.I only went through Private and Commercial helicopter training. I never became a CFI and although I started work on an instrument rating back in the beginning of 2008, I haven’t finished it.
All three of these guys had right around 300 hours of flight time. The vast majority of that time was in Robinson R22 helicopters — although I think one of them might have had most of his training in Robinson R44s because of his size. (He wasn’t fat, but he was very tall and with height comes weight.) Virtually all of their flight time was built with a CFI in the seat beside them, flying within 50 miles of the airport where they learned to fly.I have about 2,100 hours of flight time these days, built in Robinson R22, Robinson R44, and Bell 206L helicopters, with a tiny bit of stick time in a Hughes 500 and a Bell 47. I’ve flown in nine states, including Arizona, New Mexico, California, Nevada, Utah, Colorado, Oregon, Washington, and Idaho. I’ve flown over deserts, mountains, lakes, forests, canyons, and coastlines.
All three of these guys built their flight time in basic and more advanced training. That’s 300 hours of hovering, flying traffic patterns, practicing autorotations, and performing other textbook maneuvers to textbook standards. They flew mostly during the day in good weather, at or near sea level. When (or if) these guys get jobs as CFIs, they’ll build their next 700 hours of flight time sitting in a seat beside a variety of student pilots, handing the controls only until the student can perform basic maneuvers without assistance. Then they’ll keep the student pilot out of trouble by being ready to get on the controls while daydreaming about their next flying job — the one that might actually pay them enough money that they can afford to pay their rent.I built my flight time with about 200 hours of basic and advanced training followed by an enormous amount of cross-country flying — including far more solo flight time than the average pilot — and flights for hire. The for-hire flights include short rides, sightseeing tours, photo flights, aerial survey flights, video flights, air-taxi flights, wildlife survey flights, cattle spotting, and cherry drying. I’ve flown in perfectly clear daytime weather, under (and over) low clouds, around thunderstorms, through rain showers, and into the complete darkness of a remote desert night. I’ve landed on and off airports, from sea level to over 10,000 feet density altitude.
These guys have always flown under the close supervision of a CFI or chief flight instructor, following the rules laid down by their flight schools. Decision-making was likely limited to go/no go decisions that were likely based on conservative guidelines; in other words, if there’s a real go/no go decision to make, don’t go.About 1/4 of my flight time was flown under the close supervision of a CFI, chief flight instructor, or chief pilot. The rest of it was flown under my own supervision. I made all the decisions that needed making, from how much fuel to load and where to seat the passengers to what route to take and where to stop for fuel to how to find my way around the unforecasted thunderstorm in my path. And go/no go, of course.
All three of these guys are qualified to teach student pilots how to fly helicopters.I’m not.

What bothers me most is that limited experienced pilots are the ones teaching people how to fly. Then, after logging hour after hour of doing the same thing in the same basic conditions, they’re more qualified for a job than someone else with “better” experience but fewer hours.

Is there something wrong with this situation?

I’m not complaining about not being able to teach. I don’t want to. I like life far too much to put it into the hands of someone who doesn’t know how to fly. I just question the wisdom of using our least experienced certificated pilots to teach non-pilots how to fly.

Spraying with a Helicopter
An experienced agriculture pilot sprays wax on Apple trees from a JetRanger in Washington state.

When I was an 800-hour pilot, it bothered me that a typical 1,000-hour pilot on the typical career path was considered more experienced than I was. I was willing to prove that I was an as good — if not better — pilot than he was, but no one wanted to give me the opportunity. Sure, he can do autorotations better than I could — after all, he’d been doing them every day for much of his 1,000 hours of flight time. But how was he on off-airport landings? Planning cross-country flights? Landing at unfamiliar airports? Flying around or under or through weather? Managing power with a full load of full-sized passengers at high density altitude? Simply feeling the aircraft as an extension of his body that gave him the ability to fly?

That’s water under the bridge now. I’ve built my time and now qualify for a wide range of jobs. And if I get my CFI — which I expect to this winter — I could probably be a pretty good flight instructor.

But for now, I’ll just continue on my own career path. It may not be typical, but it’s challenging. And every flight offers the possibility of a real learning experience.

Photos from the Museum of Flight

Snapshots from our road trip.

As some of you may know, I just finished up a lengthy trip to the Pacific Northwest, ending it with a 2-1/2 week road trip back to Arizona by way of four national parks with my husband, dog, and parrot. I took over 1600 photos over the past three months, with about 800 of them snapped over the past three weeks.

That’s a lot of photos.

I shared some of them earlier in the summer, but soon got behind in reviewing and processing the shots from my Nikon. I also shared a bunch of cell phone photos taken with my BlackBerry, on Twitter via TwitPic and ÜberTwitter. I hope to share a few more of the interesting ones over the next few months here.

That said, here are some from the start of our road trip. My husband and dog arrived on an Alaska Air flight in Seattle on August 13. I drove from Wenatchee, where I was staying, to Seattle to pick them up. Since we had some time to kill, we visited the Museum of Flight at Boeing Field.

If you’re at all interested in aviation and have a chance to visit Seattle, don’t miss the Museum of Flight. I can’t imagine any museum with Aviation exhibits to be more exhaustive than this one — except possibly the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum in Washington.

And now, the photos. Sorry about the obnoxious copyright notice, but I don’t want my work circulated all over the ‘Net without permission or credit. If you want to share any of these shots to friends, link to this page.

The Main Gallery

I made this photo with my fisheye lens from the balcony of the main gallery. Those are real, full-sized airplanes on display — some hanging from the ceiling! It’s a great sight to behold.

At the Museum of Flight

Photo Info:
Camera: Nikon D80
Aperture: f/4.5
Shutter Speed: 1/80
Focal Length: 10.5mm

SR-71 Blackbird

This is the second time I’ve been able to get up close and personal with an SR-71 Blackbird. (The first was at the Pima Air Museum in Tucson, where one is parked outdoors under a shade.) If you want to learn more about this incredible plane, read its Wikipedia entry.

This particular plane has an unusual feature that it shared with only one other SR-71. Can you spot it?

SR-71 Blackbird

Photo Info:
Camera: Nikon D80
Aperture: f/4.2
Shutter Speed: 1/50
Focal Length: 26mm

Jet Engine Detail

This is a closeup shot of some of the tubing on one side of the SR-71 engine on display. You can see the display in the above photo, on the right side of the plane, just inside the white barricades.

I don’t know much about this, but I like the way the tubes look.

Jet Engine Detail

Photo Info:
Camera: Nikon D80
Aperture: f/5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/30
Focal Length: 85mm

Concorde Cockpit

One of the highlights of the museum was the outdoor displays, which included a British Airways Concorde jet. Our walk through was the closest either one of us will get to supersonic fight — and the plane was permanently parked.

A plexiglas panel separated the tourists from the cockpit instuments. But if you put the lens right up against the Plexiglass and hold the camera very still, you might get a shot like this one:

Concorde Cockpit

Photo Info:
Camera: Nikon D80
Aperture: f/5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/30
Focal Length: 85mm

Air Force One Cockpit

The plane that served as Air Force One from the Eisenhower through Nixon administrations was also on display outdoors. Again, the cockpit was on display, protected by a piece of Plexiglas.

There’s nothing like a fisheye lens to get the details in tight spaces.

Air Force One Cockpit

Photo Info:
Camera: Nikon D80
Aperture: f/3.5
Shutter Speed: 1/50
Focal Length: 10.5mm

That’s all for this part of the trip. I hope to have some more interesting shots online soon.

Airplanes and Helicopters Don’t Mix

Accidents happen.

As the New York Times reports in  “Tourist Helicopter and Small Plane Collide Over Hudson River“:

A small private plane carrying three people and a New York tourist helicopter carrying six collided in midair and plunged into the Hudson River off the West Side of Manhattan just after noon on Saturday. At least two people were confirmed dead, the authorities said, and a search was on for the others.

One of the reasons helicopters tend to fly lower than airplanes is to do something that’s drummed into our heads: avoid the flow of fixed wing traffic. This accident is tragic on so many levels, but it would not have occurred if the plane was flying at the altitude it should have been at.

Indeed, this isn’t the first time an airplane and helicopter have collided. On June 18, 1986, a DeHaviland DHC-6 collided with a Bell 206B helicopter over the Grand Canyon, killing 25 people. Both aircraft were conducting tours over the canyon. As a result of this accident, tour routes were established with separate altitudes for airplanes (8,000 feet MSL) and helicopters (7,500 feet MSL) over the Grand Canyon.

There’s some talk that the airplane in the New York City accident today might have been in some distress and perhaps it was losing altitude. Hopefully, investigators will gather information about how it happened. I can understand how the helicopter pilot may not have seen the airplane at his altitude, especially if he had just taken off and was still at low level, just climbing out. A helicopter pilot doesn’t expect to see airplanes at low level. But that’s no excuse to see and avoid other traffic.