David Windmiller :: Articles :: A Pilot Up to His Old Tricks, Upside Down

The loud buzz of the engine went quiet as the small red airplane began spiraling toward earth, trailing smoke behind it. Though disaster seemed imminent, the handful of onlookers at Republic Airport in Farmingdale on a recent cloudless Saturday craned their necks and smiled.

It is not unusual for David Windmiller, 35, to cheat death. He has been doing it for nearly 20 years. Confident in the outcome, his friends, family and fellow pilots who gathered to watch applauded when the plane pulled out of its stall just 200 meters above the runway.

Pointing the plane’s nose toward the ground is one of hundreds of maneuvers aerobatic pilots routinely perform. A combination of precise moves at various altitudes, aerobatics is akin to a circus in the sky, minus the trapeze, and without a net.

Mr. Windmiller finished in fourth place last month at the National Aerobatic Championships in Denison, Tex., earning him a spot on the national aerobatic team. Six thousand people across the country compete in aerobatics. But only 10 qualify for the national team, which competes every two years at the world championships against pilots from more than 20 countries.

Although he spent five years training in his quest to make the United States team, Mr. Windmiller's lofty desires first took wing when he was 14 and living in Brooklyn. He used the money he made working in a bagel store for flying lessons and a few hours in the air. "I used to sneak out of my house early in the morning," said Mr. Windmiller, who now lives in Melville. "I would take a bus, a subway, the L.I.R.R. and a taxi to Zahn's Airport in Amityville."

By the time he was 16, he had grown bored of flying level and decided to experiment. Heading out over the Great South Bay, he steered the Piper Cub straight up. "I wound up getting stuck at the top of the loop hanging from my seat belt," Mr. Windmiller said. "Oil and fuel was pouring out of the engine and the propeller stopped. I held it down long enough to restart the prop. The instructor just started laughing."

No one is laughing at him now. "He's the best there is," said Larry Beigel, a friend and fellow pilot from Dix Hills, who flies his Beechcraft V35 the conventional way. "He's one of the top 10 pilots in the country."

Mr. Windmiller tries to make four practice flights each day, seven days a week. He wakes up early to squeeze in some flying time before leaving for his photo finishing business in Brooklyn. By 3 P.M. he leaves for the airport for more flying.

Although he has been flying since he was a teen-ager, his serious training for the aerobatic team began five years ago, when he took the unusual step of requesting access to restricted air space from the Federal Aviation Administration. He was granted a 1,000-meter cube of space over the marshlands north of Ocean Parkway near Jones Beach, which serves as his training area and is the same size as the aerobatic box used in competition.

In aerobatic contests, pilots must complete compulsory figures, much like figure skaters, tracing precise paths in the sky. There are also freestyle segments that allow pilots to be more creative. Instead of triple toe loops and a triple lutz, an aerobatic pilot might try Humpty Bumps, Lumcavoks or a Windmill, a maneuver Mr. Windmiller created that was named after him. "You pull the plane vertical, then cartwheel three times, wingtip to wingtip," he explained.

The plane Mr. Windmiller flies, an Extra 300L, can spin 720 degrees in one second, a roll rate faster than any jet. It is also expensive. The Extra 300L costs about $300,000 and is distributed in the United States by Aerosport, of St. Augustine, Fla., which sponsors Mr. Windmiller.

Aerobatics began during the 1920's and 1930's, when aerial competitions between nations in Europe started to flourish. In 1970, the International Aerobatic Club was formed to organize the sport here and provide rules to fly by. The club, based in Oshkosh, Wis., now sanctions 52 aerobatic contests each year in the United States. There are five divisions of competition based on difficulty, and the only requirement is that competitors have a pilot's license. Among the competitions is the Northeast Aerobatic Championship, which began Thursday and runs through today at Gabreski Airport in Westhampton, where Mr. Windmiller is among the 70 pilots who are competing.

John Caccavale of Bayport, the president of the Long Island aerobatic club chapter and the contest director for the Westhampton event, shares his plane with five others to save expenses. "We're doing it for the glory," Mr. Caccavale said. "There's no money in this sport."

Despite its appearance, pilots say their sport is safe. The aerobatic club said it had had no competition fatalities in its 29-year history. But the same cannot be said for air shows, where accidents are fodder for scariest video television programs. In the past four years, there have been 17 accidents and 14 fatalities at air shows, according to the National Transportation Safety Board. At shows, pilots perform hairy maneuvers, like flying five planes in formation 36 inches apart at more than 200 miles an hour, or two planes flying head-on and passing within 15 feet of each other.

Michael Mancuso, of Remsenberg, flew amateur aerobatics for 18 years before recently becoming a professional air show pilot for the Northern Lights Aerobatic Team, said that flying stunts that often scared him. Such feats are not performed at aerobatic competitions.

Although he has no desire to join the professional air show circuit, Mr. Windmiller will appear in five air shows as part of his United States team responsibilities, performing a routine of solo aerobatics. Though he takes risks with each tumble and spin, his wife, Tammy, takes it in stride. "I used to get nervous, but now I'm used to it," she said. "I find it more frightening when he drives. He seems to have a need for speed."

Mr. Windmiller raced speedboats for four years before he turned his attention toward aerobatics, something his father, Ruben, was initially against. Ruben Windmiller died in the crash of Flight 800 three years ago, a few miles from where his son tests the limits of his aircraft every day. "I have 8,000 hours in the air, and he dies in a 747," Mr. Windmiller said. He had "In memory of Dad" painted on the tailfin of his plane.

Two of his children, Matthew, 4, and Robert, 2, have their nicknames, Boo Boo and Bam Bam, written on the side of their father’s cockpit. Michael, 9 months, has yet to receive the honor. Matthew, Robert and some of Mr. Windmiller’s other family members have also been passengers in the stunt plane, allowing them to gain a firsthand perspective on what aerobatics feels like.

"I thought it was great," said Ms. Windmiller, who rode as her husband flew loops and rolls. After this weekend’s contest in Westhampton, Mr. Windmiller will begin training for the world championships, to take place next August in France, and the 2001 World Air Games in Cadiz, Spain. In December, he will fly to Florida, where he will practice during the winter. Before spring, he hopes to take delivery of a brand-new plane, which may allow him to spin and roll faster than ever before.

"David is a phenomenal pilot," Mr. Mancuso said. "He's waiting to really dazzle. He has a chance to be the best pilot in the world. I can’t wait to see it."