Flying Floats and Flight Test

How rediscovering stick and rudder flying in a dynamic environment builds a better Test Pilot

A bit of brazen self-promotion here, but recently earning my ASES in Alaska re-inspired and retaught some hard lessons learned about flying and testing aircraft, particularly when you can only rely on pilot and machine in ever-changing conditions.

Back to Basics

Modern aircraft are marvels of engineering. With fly-by-wire control systems, sophisticated envelope protection, and layers of automation, today’s cockpits are designed to make flying safer, more reliable, and more efficient than ever before. These systems filter data, present information cleanly, and often prevent pilots from inadvertently pushing the aircraft outside of its limits. In many ways, they coddle the pilot—guardrails against error are built right into the controls.

But while technology has transformed aviation, it’s also easy to get comfortable, even complacent. In a flight test environment, for instance, the sheer amount of highly refined and processed data can even engross a pilot. Every movement, every system behavior, every aerodynamic quirk can be captured and it’s tempting to rely exclusively on these polished layers of interpretation seeking that perfect data point without necessarily keeping the greater test objectives in mind.

The danger is that when you focus only on the data—or lean too heavily on automation—you risk losing touch with the fundamentals. Flying is, at its core, an interaction between a pilot and the laws of physics. Airmanship begins not with digital feedback, but with feel, intuition, and a direct understanding of how air flows over a wing. 

The value of sound airmanship and basic flying skills is no more apparent than at the intersection of aero and hydrodynamics.

Basic Stick and Rudder Skills Matter

Climbing into a cloth-and-tube frame Super Cub—something with no advanced electronics and very little instrumentation—is a refreshing experience. While this is where we all likely learned, many flight testers have built decades of flight time in more advanced, automated, and tuned aircraft. Here, there are no layers of algorithms smoothing out control inputs, no autopilot minding the details. This kind of flying builds appreciation for the raw physics at play, with no PFD, HUD, or (possibly) reliable airspeed indicator. 

Every pilot input is expressed directly by the aircraft, even often exacerbated by the addition of 300lbs of flotation equipment to the aircraft. Very noticeable is the increased drag, nose down pitching tendencies, and increased adverse yaw induced by the addition of floats to a 1700lbs aircraft. If the trim isn’t perfectly set, you’ll feel it! Every wave, downdraft, or fuel imbalance is easily perceived and must be compensated for. Further, aeronautical decisionmaking becomes a true risk factor - flying a single engine float plane in the mountains does not allow for many emergency landing options! The concept of alternative airfield is not useful, and each flight parameter decision requires consideration to maximize options when safety of flight is compromised. 

This flying sharpens instincts that might fade when you only fly highly automated machines. Basic airmanship isn’t just a nostalgic exercise; it’s a foundation. In moments where automation fails or conditions shift unpredictably, those instincts are what make the difference.

Listen to the Airplane

Fundamentally, basic seaplane flying is built on feel. When the aircraft speaks, the pilot must listen - often a lost skill when relying exclusively on numerical state data presentation and highly refined displays.

Flying floats requires an instinctual kind of piloting based on haptic and sensory perception. You quickly learn to listen to the airplane. While V-speeds always matter, the precision of the airspeed indicator is not as relevant as what the aircraft is actually relaying to the pilot. There is no useful V1, Vr, or Vmcg - the aircraft lifts off when ready. When it’s on step, you feel it. When it’s off step, you know immediately—not because a computer told you, but because the aircraft spoke directly through the controls and airframe.

Respecting the Environment

Another lesson that seaplane flying reinforces is respect for the environment. Flying floats absconds with well marked runways, with centerlines and FOD checks. Here the pilot is not catered to, we are merely subjects of the environment. Weather, density altitude, and terrain always “get a vote.” You can’t negotiate with physics. Sometimes the best flying decision is to call the abort before the airplane—or the conditions—make that choice for you. 

Scouting a landing area at 500ft in mountainous terrain reinforces the necessity of understanding the operating environment. Reading lakes for landing surface conditions, gusts, downdrafts, and obstacles is the most assurance adding activity to a safe landing. Each one of these hazards can easily cause a significant mishap, all of which may have changed for the worse since the day prior. 

Why It Matters

In modern flight test and operational flying alike, returning to fundamentals is not a step backward; it’s a way to stay sharp and listen to what the aircraft is telling you. A pilot who understands the airplane at its most basic level—lift, drag, thrust, and weight—has a stronger foundation for interpreting data, working with automation, and managing risk - and this intuition is further amplified while flying seaplanes.

Technology will only continue to advance, but the principles of flight remain the same. By revisiting the simple act of flying without layers of assistance, pilots strengthen their intuition, sharpen their skills, and remind themselves of the timeless truth: the airplane always tells you what it needs, if you’re willing to listen.