I was fortunate enough to start my flight training not long after my mum began hers. For those of you that have family members already in the industry, you will know how special a relationship like this can be.

I remember the early days when we would plan flights together and take turns as one other's copilot. Helping and supporting each other through the exams and experiences that come from exposure to the world of aviation.

It would be foolish to assume all the experiences were good ones. Not even close. There were many flights where one or both of us were out of our comfort zones. But the fact that we knew we weren't alone made all the difference.

Some of the things we were faced with include alternator belts snapping mid-flight. Blown out batteries in the middle of nowhere. Being forced to shuttle people out of a bush strip, pushing the limits of dusk. Fortunately, all of these events ended well.

However I'm led to believe that it's the experiences that don't go as planned that are the ones we learn from the most. Perhaps because it's more deeply ingrained into our minds in the form of trauma. like a flash in the pan, it becomes embedded in our minds, dissolving somewhat slower into the subconscious.

My mom was the first of us to go through one of these trials. A routine flight around George on a perfect day. Things got away from her coming into land, and for whatever reason, she was unable to recover. The result was a prop strike on landing.

I'll never forget how distraught she was. Mom can be frantic at the best of times, but this was different. At the time I couldn't quite comprehend what she was dealing with. But I remember trying to console her.

Paraphrasing from an old surfing saying, “there are two types of surfers, those who pee in their suit, and those who say they don't”

The reworked aviation phrase goes like this: 

“There are two types of pilots. Those who have crashed, and those who are yet to.”

Not entirely believing my own words, it was more lip service at the time. However, I hate to admit that recently I have moved from being an exception to a part of the rule.

A few months ago, I had to put an aircraft down on a dirt road resulting in a prop strike of my own. Only after experiencing it for myself, do I have a better idea of what she must have felt all those years ago.

Guilt, shame, embarrassment, fear, relief, confusion, and the old faithful PTSD to bring up the rear.

I don't think these things are spoken about enough. Almost taboo to have an incident on your record, when in reality I can't help thinking that it's more common that not.

Maybe I'm wrong. Only attempting to make my mom and I feel better. The truth is that the biggest lesson for me wasn't around the incident itself, although I did have my fair share of takeaways.

The real lesson for me was the mental side of it all. As a man, suppressing my emotions was the natural thing to do. Until it becomes too much to bear.

The significance of having a near death experience and walking away from it is not something to brushed aside. Fortunately for me, I had my co-pilot, Mom, who forced me to seek professional help.

Seeing a shrink was only the start. But what I learnt was how to deal with and process trauma.

The key is to speak about it. As often as you can and with as many that will listen. The sooner the better. 

It's a psychological technique that works to process and release the experience and this applies to all areas of life.

So if there's one thing I wanted to share today it's this:

If you ever find yourself on the wrong end of a scary scenario, you are not alone. The best thing you can do is to talk. Share your experience with others, even if it's anonymously.

If you have an incident/ accident experience you'd like to share, click here for a secret submission.

We'd love to hear your story and share the lessons learned with others.