Why I went looking
On 7 August 2026 I had a helicopter go/no-go in my hands.
A family I was responsible for, two adults and a twelve-year-old, was booked on a return leg from a resort in Búzios to Galeão, lifting at 16:00. Rio de Janeiro had entered municipal Civil Defence Estágio 3 at 13:00 on a severe-wind advisory. My ground team was strongly against the flight. The operator’s position was that conditions were flyable.
My team was not guessing. They had been advised by traffic control at Galeão that flights were being cancelled, diverted and grounded, which is real, contemporaneous information from a party with no commercial interest in my decision. On top of that, the agent on the ground had lived through a genuinely severe event eight days earlier: gusts around 105 km/h that suspended operations at Santos Dumont and closed the Rio-Niterói bridge outright for about 35 minutes. Both things were true at once. They held good information and a memory that made every gust read like a repeat.
The operator’s contract refunded the fare if the operator stood the flight down for weather, and forfeited it if the client did. That term does something worse than cost money. It pays the operator to call a marginal flight flyable and let the customer be the one to cancel.
So the two people advising me were pointed in opposite directions by their own interests, and the only party with no stake in the answer, the aviation weather record, was not in the room. Nobody had a METAR, a TAF or a SIGMET. We had two strong opinions and consumer weather apps.
It was not my place to trade a family’s safety against their comfort on their behalf. I put the whole picture in front of the person paying, including my own team’s dissent, the operator’s contrary view and the money at risk, and let them decide. They cancelled and drove. They made their international flight without difficulty. The return leg was forfeited in full, roughly half the round-trip fare, because the cancellation came from our side.
Afterwards I pulled the observations. Gusts in Rio that day peaked at 66.6 km/h at Galeão and 64.8 km/h at Santos Dumont, the "strong" band, against the 110 km/h the state-level forecast had cited and well under the 105 km/h that had actually materialised eight days before. The city de-escalated at 18:00 as the winds eased. On the evidence, that window was most likely marginal-but-flyable, and the operator’s read was probably closer to correct than my team’s.
I would make the same call again. Marginal is exactly the band where a light helicopter, over coastal terrain, into an unprepared resort landing site, with a twelve-year-old aboard, deserves the conservative answer. But I want to be precise about what happened: the structure of that decision was right and the inputs were poor. I could not tell marginal from dangerous, because I was not holding anything that could tell me.
The next day a sightseeing helicopter came down in the forest near the Vista Chinesa, killing four people. It had departed from Jacarepaguá. My clients had stood at that overlook five days earlier on a scheduled stop in Tijuca National Park, and their own helicopter leg had lifted from the same airport four days before that.
I am not drawing a line between those two things. There is no line to draw, and CENIPA has published no cause. What that week did was make an abstract gap concrete. I had been making aviation decisions for principals on opinion and weather apps, and I had no idea whether the aircraft underneath them was a good one or a bad one, because I had never seen a number that would tell me.
So I went and built one.
The argument
Almost all of the risk in a light-helicopter flight is decided at booking, not on the day.
Under the same rule and the same inspectors, the aircraft you choose swings the accident rate eighty-fold. That choice is made weeks ahead. Calmly, in writing, and you can check it. The weather call is rare and urgent, and you make it on poor information. Worse: cancelling does not undo an aircraft you already chose. Yet that is where nearly all of the industry’s worry goes.
What the argument is missing
Every time a helicopter comes down in Rio de Janeiro, the same argument runs for about a week. One side says the city’s mountains, its sightseeing corridors and its crowded airspace make it uniquely dangerous. The other side says Rio has always had helicopters and this is what happens when you have a lot of them.
Neither side usually brings a denominator.
Brazil is unusual in that you don’t have to argue. ANAC publishes how many hours every aircraft model actually flies, month by month. CENIPA publishes every accident it is notified of, with the aircraft type, the city, the operating rule and the occurrence taxonomy. Both are open data. Nobody joins them, because the join is tedious and the files are large. The flight-hour file alone is 138 MB.
We joined them. Ten full years, 2015 through 2024: 2,983,749 helicopter flight hours against 170 accidents, 51 of them fatal, 121 people killed. The national helicopter accident rate works out at 5.70 per 100,000 flight hours.
Underneath that single number is a spread of more than ten to one, and the variables that drive it are ones a passenger can actually check before boarding.
What this analysis is not
On 8 August 2026 a sightseeing helicopter crashed in steep forest near the Vista Chinesa in Rio, killing four people. That accident prompted the question. It appears nowhere in the arithmetic below, and this piece assigns it no cause. CENIPA controls causal findings, and its investigation is open. The same applies to the 14 June 2026 midair collision over Recreio dos Bandeirantes. What follows is about the decade of closed evidence that came before them.
The finding: engine architecture, not geography
Sort a decade of Brazilian helicopter flying by what is under the cowling, and the gradient is stark and statistically clean.
| Aircraft class | Flight hours | Acc. | Per 100,000 h | 95% CI | Fatal/100k h |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Single-engine piston | 558,656 | 82 | 14.68 | 11.67–18.22 | 3.40 |
| Single-engine turbine | 1,174,800 | 71 | 6.04 | 4.72–7.62 | 1.87 |
| Twin-engine turbine | 1,250,293 | 17 | 1.36 | 0.79–2.18 | 0.80 |
A single-piston helicopter in Brazil has an accident roughly eleven times as often per flying hour as a twin-turbine one. None of the three intervals overlaps any other, so this is not an artefact of small numbers. On fatal accidents the spread narrows to about four to one, because twin-turbine helicopters carry more people, so when they do have an accident, more people are in them.
This is the finding that survives every way we cut the data. It is also the one that is useful to a passenger, because unlike weather, terrain or the pilot’s night’s sleep, you can establish it from the booking page.
The model table
Broken out by aircraft family, over the same decade and the same denominator:
| Model family | Hours | Acc. | Fatal | Deaths | Per 100k h | 95% CI |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Robinson R44 | 386,528 | 57 | 16 | 39 | 14.75 | 11.17–19.11 |
| Robinson R22 | 143,932 | 18 | 2 | 3 | 12.51 | 7.41–19.76 |
| Bell 206 | 130,374 | 16 | 9 | 20 | 12.27 | 7.01–19.93 |
| Bell 407 | 49,129 | 6 | 1 | 5 | 12.21 | 4.48–26.58 |
| Airbus AS350/H125 | 641,849 | 34 | 10 | 17 | 5.30 | 3.67–7.40 |
| Leonardo A109 | 153,475 | 6 | 4 | 15 | 3.91 | 1.43–8.51 |
| Robinson R66 | 184,331 | 6 | 0 | 0 | 3.26 | 1.19–7.08 |
| Sikorsky S-76 | 251,595 | 3 | 1 | 1 | 1.19 | 0.25–3.48 |
| Leonardo AW139 | 312,055 | 1 | 0 | 0 | 0.32 | 0.01–1.79 |
| Sikorsky S-92 | 237,137 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0.00 | 0.00–1.56 |
Families with under 20,000 hours in the window are excluded from ranking; below that a single event moves the rate more than the effect being measured.
The R44 is Brazil’s most common helicopter and its most frequent accident aircraft, and the second fact is not simply a consequence of the first. There are 446 R44s on the Brazilian register today. That is 17.5% of the active fleet, the largest single family. But they flew 13.0% of the decade’s hours and had 33.5% of its accidents. Put simply: the R44 turns up in the accident record two and a half times as often as its share of flying would predict.
The cleanest comparison in the table is Robinson against Robinson. The R44 and the R66 come from the same maker and sell to the same kind of buyer. Both are flown almost entirely by private owners: 59% of R44 hours and 93% of R66 hours. The one difference that matters is the engine. The R44 is a piston; the R66 is a turbine. R44: 14.75 per 100,000 hours. R66: 3.26. The intervals do not overlap. Look at private flying alone and the gap holds: 13.98 against 2.93.
The number that actually applies to a tourist flight
A sightseeing flight over Rio is not private flying. It is normally sold under RBAC 135, commercial air transport, the same rule as an air taxi. That is a different population of aircraft, pilots, maintenance regimes and oversight, and it deserves its own denominator.
| Model family, commercial service (RBAC 135) | Hours | Acc. | Fatal | Per 100k h | 95% CI |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Robinson R44 | 41,831 | 11 | 3 | 26.30 | 13.13–47.05 |
| Bell 206 | 54,104 | 4 | 2 | 7.39 | 2.01–18.93 |
| Airbus AS350/H125 | 102,357 | 2 | 0 | 1.95 | 0.24–7.06 |
| Sikorsky S-76 | 247,198 | 3 | 1 | 1.21 | 0.25–3.55 |
| Leonardo AW139 | 305,720 | 1 | 0 | 0.33 | 0.01–1.82 |
| Sikorsky S-92 | 231,543 | 0 | 0 | 0.00 | 0.00–1.59 |
In commercial service the gap widens rather than closes. An R44 flown for hire in Brazil had an accident about thirteen times as often per hour as an AS350/H125 flown for hire, and the intervals are nowhere near each other. The R44’s own commercial rate (26.30) is nearly double its rate across all operations (14.75). Whatever is happening, it is not being softened by the commercial rulebook.
It is worth being precise about what this does and does not say. Eleven accidents is a small number, which is why the interval on that 26.30 runs from 13 to 47. The honest statement is not “the R44 is 26.30”. It is “the R44’s commercial accident rate is somewhere above 13, and every turbine type in commercial service is below 8.” That is still an unambiguous ordering.
One pattern in those eleven accidents is worth recording without over-reading it: six were coded as system or component failure, five powerplant (SCF-PP) and one non-powerplant. That is a higher share of mechanical coding than the fleet at large, and it is the kind of signal that would justify a proper engineering review. It is not evidence that the R44 is mechanically defective, and this piece does not make that claim. Four of the eleven investigations remain open.
Rio is not the outlier. Rio is the growth.
Rio’s helicopter traffic has genuinely exploded, and the primary data is more dramatic than the press coverage. Rotary-wing general-aviation movements at Jacarepaguá, the airport that handles the bulk of Rio’s helicopter activity:
| Rotary-wing GA movements | 2023 | 2024 | 2025 | Change |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Jacarepaguá (SBJR), Rio | 63,203 | 64,366 | 87,815 | +36% |
| Campo de Marte (SBMT), São Paulo | 22,692 | 21,011 | 25,481 | +21% |
| Santos Dumont (SBRJ), Rio | 3,293 | 2,849 | 3,233 | +13% |
Source: CGNA/DECEA, Anuário Estatístico de Tráfego Aéreo 2025.
Jacarepaguá is now the seventh-busiest airport in Brazil by total movements, and its rotary-wing traffic grew by more than a third in a single year. CGNA’s own route table shows what that traffic is: 41.8% of Jacarepaguá’s movements are local circuits and a further 34.9% run to or from points with no aerodrome code, the signature of offshore helideck work. Industry reporting attributes the surge to oil-and-gas activity, and the route profile is consistent with that. Tourism is not what is driving the curve.
| City of occurrence | Accidents 2015–2024 | Fatal | Deaths | 2023–2025 |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Rio de Janeiro | 13 | 4 | 7 | 1 |
| São Paulo | 9 | 2 | 6 | 2 |
Rio’s helicopter movements rose sharply while its accident count did not. Over the full decade Rio recorded 13 helicopter accidents to São Paulo’s 9, against far lower exposure in the first half of the period and far higher exposure in the second. At state level the direction reverses outright: 19 accidents in Rio de Janeiro state against 32 in São Paulo state over the same decade.
This is not new. ANAC ran the same comparison on 2011 data and published it: São Paulo, 10 accidents in 44,448 recorded operations; Rio de Janeiro, 5 in 34,876. That is 2.25 per 10,000 operations in São Paulo against 1.43 in Rio. Two studies, thirteen years and two different denominators apart, and the answer keeps coming back the same way.
We are deliberately not publishing a Rio-versus-São-Paulo accident rate. ANAC’s flight-hour file carries no geography, so per-hour city rates are impossible. CGNA’s movements are takeoffs and landings, not flights or hours, and São Paulo’s rooftop helipad network, a large share of the city’s helicopter activity, does not appear in Campo de Marte’s numbers at all. A ratio built on those inputs would look precise and mean nothing. The counts above are the honest version: no measure we can build from primary data supports the idea that Rio is the more dangerous city. Several point the other way.
What Rio has is more helicopters, flying more hours, over harder terrain, in front of more cameras.
Back to the decision I actually made
Four questions I could not answer on 7 August, answered now.
Can you put a number on a weather no-go?
Partly, and the honest part is more useful than the number people want. The number people want is the probability that this specific flight has an accident today. That is not computable from public data and nobody should pretend otherwise. It would need hours flown in marginal conditions as a denominator, and no regulator publishes flight hours stratified by weather.
What is computable is this. CENIPA publishes contributing factors for investigations it has completed. Of the 106 helicopter accidents in this decade with published factors, adverse weather is a contributing factor in 18, or 17%. That sounds moderate until you look at what those 18 did.
| Group | Accidents | Fatal | Share fatal |
|---|---|---|---|
| Weather a contributing factor | 18 | 13 | 72% |
| Investigated, weather not a factor | 88 | 15 | 17% |
| All helicopter accidents in the decade | 170 | 51 | 30% |
Weather is not the most common thing that goes wrong. It is the most lethal. A helicopter accident with weather in the chain is roughly four times as likely to kill someone as one without. Those 18 accidents produced 38 deaths.
That is the shape of the bet a no-go decision is actually taking. The baseline chance that any given flight ends badly is low, on the order of one accident per 8,000 flight hours for the aircraft type we were booked on. Weather does not raise that number by a factor you can look up. What it changes is the distribution of outcomes: it moves the tail from “most accidents are survivable” to “most accidents are not”.
You do not need a percentage to justify declining that trade on behalf of a twelve-year-old. You need to know which distribution you are standing in, and that is knowable.
Does a turbine JetRanger actually help?
Less than I assumed, and this is the finding that stung. We were booked on a Bell 206 JetRanger. Single-engine turbine, not a piston machine, and I had filed that mentally as the safer end of the light-helicopter market.
| Family | Hours | Acc. | Acc./100k h | FATAL/100k h | Fatal 95% CI |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Robinson R44 | 386,528 | 57 | 14.75 | 4.14 | 2.37–6.72 |
| Bell 206 (JetRanger) | 130,374 | 16 | 12.27 | 6.90 | 3.16–13.10 |
| Airbus AS350/H125 | 641,849 | 34 | 5.30 | 1.56 | 0.75–2.87 |
| Leonardo AW139 | 312,055 | 1 | 0.32 | 0.00 | 0.00–1.18 |
The Bell 206’s accident rate is 12.27 against the R44’s 14.75. On the measure that matters most, fatal accidents per flight hour, the 206 sits at 6.90, the highest of any family with meaningful exposure in Brazil, above the R44’s 4.14.
The intervals overlap. So I cannot say the JetRanger is worse than the R44. What I can say is this: on this evidence the two are not distinguishable from each other. And both sit far above the AS350/H125, an order of magnitude off the twins. Swapping piston for turbine is not the safety decision. Choosing which turbine is.
I had been buying reassurance from the word “turbine”. The data does not sell it.
So where are the accidents actually happening? Are these all tourist flights?
No, and this is the single most misread thing about the subject.
| Segment | Hours | Acc. | Per 100k h | 95% CI | Share |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Commercial air transport (RBAC 135) | 1,147,248 | 27 | 2.35 | 1.55–3.42 | 16% |
| Specialised air services | 201,553 | 9 | 4.47 | 2.04–8.48 | 5% |
| Public / police aviation | 426,281 | 29 | 6.80 | 4.56–9.77 | 17% |
| Private flying | 1,018,344 | 72 | 7.07 | 5.53–8.90 | 42% |
| Instruction | 181,754 | 14 | 7.70 | 4.21–12.92 | 8% |
| Agricultural | 8,569 | 6 | 70.02 | 25.70–152.40 | 4% |
Commercial air transport is the safest segment in Brazilian helicopter aviation, at 2.35 accidents per 100,000 flight hours. Private flying is three times that rate and accounts for 42% of all helicopter accidents. Every time a tourist flight goes down, the public conversation turns to commercial sightseeing operations, which is the part of the industry with the best record per hour flown.
Hold that next to the commercial-service table earlier in this piece and the real structure appears. The operating rule is doing its job. The variation that survives inside it is the aircraft: from 0.33 per 100,000 hours on an AW139 to 26.30 on an R44, under the same regulation, the same oversight and the same inspectors.
Two limits worth stating. Panoramic sightseeing is not a separate category in CENIPA’s data; it sits inside commercial air transport alongside air taxi and charter, so no sightseeing-specific rate can be computed from public sources by anyone, including us. And by phase of flight the accidents are not concentrated where people imagine: 27.6% in cruise, 14.1% on landing, 10.0% on takeoff, 8.8% on final approach, and only 4.7% in deliberate low-altitude flight.
What is a METAR, a TAF and a SIGMET?
The three things nobody in my decision was holding. All three are free, official, aviation-specific, and issued by people with no interest in whether your flight departs.
- METAR
- An observation. What the weather at an aerodrome is right now: wind direction and speed, gusts, visibility, cloud base, temperature, pressure. Issued roughly hourly. This is the instrument that distinguishes "the app says windy" from "the wind at the field is 28 knots gusting 42".
- TAF
- A forecast for an aerodrome, typically covering the next 24 to 30 hours, written in the same vocabulary. It is what tells you whether the window you are flying in is improving or deteriorating.
- SIGMET
- A hazard warning for an area rather than a point: severe turbulence, wind shear, icing, thunderstorms. This is the one that speaks to the part of the flight that is not over an airport, which on a coastal leg is nearly all of it.
In Brazil all three come from DECEA’s REDEMET service, free with a registered API key. The nearest reporting stations for the flight we were arguing about were Galeão, Santos Dumont and Cabo Frio.
None of that would have made the decision for me. A METAR is not a permission slip. But it would have replaced "my people say one thing and the operator says another" with a number, and a client asked to arbitrate between two conflicted advisors will reasonably default to the cautious option every time. The information gap, not the judgment, is what cost that family their flight and cost me the fare.
What is not established
The value of this exercise is as much in what it refuses to conclude.
Single-piston helicopters have a materially higher accident rate per flight hour than turbines in Brazil
Established. Non-overlapping confidence intervals, robust to sensitivity testing.
The R44 is over-represented in Brazilian accidents relative to its flying
Established. Representation index 2.59 (33.5% of accidents on 13.0% of hours).
The R44 accident rate in commercial service exceeds every turbine type
Established. Interval floor 13.13 against turbine ceilings below 8.
Rio de Janeiro is more dangerous for helicopters than São Paulo
Not supported. Accident counts and ANAC’s own 2011 benchmark both point the other way.
The R44 is mechanically unreliable
Not established. A mechanical-coding cluster in 11 commercial accidents is a reason to look, not a finding.
Weather caused the 8 August 2026 Rio accident
Unknown. CENIPA investigation open. No cause has been published.
A specific Rio operator is higher-risk
Untestable on public data. No operator-level exposure denominator exists in any public dataset.
Rio terrain and sightseeing profile interact with light-helicopter characteristics to raise risk
Plausible, untested. Needs geography in the flight-hour data, which ANAC does not publish.
Two data-quality notes belong in the open rather than in a footnote. First, 22.8% of R44 accidents carry an undetermined occurrence type, against 4.4% for every other helicopter type combined. We do not know whether that reflects the events or the investigations, and we have not treated it as either. Second, 35 of the 170 accidents still have an open CENIPA investigation, so occurrence coding can still change.
Regulators treat this aircraft family as needing something extra. The FAA has required model-specific training and experience for the R-22 and R-44 since 1 March 1995, under a rule called SFAR 73. The current version took effect on 22 August 2024. It dropped the low-gravity flight training requirement, to match the manufacturer’s own flight manual, and set an expiry date so the FAA can refine the rules before making them permanent. Thirty-one years of model-specific rulemaking explains why this family attracts attention. On its own, it is not evidence of a defect.
What a principal should actually do with this
Choosing how a principal moves in Rio is a decision we make and answer for: whether the aerial leg goes on the itinerary at all, who flies it, and what is enough to cancel it. That is why we built this table. Nothing here argues against flying in Rio. The data says the aircraft you choose matters far more than the city you choose it in, and the city is the variable most people spend their worry on.
Four questions, answerable before you book:
- 1
What is the registration of the specific aircraft, and what is its engine configuration?
Not the model on the website. The tail number of the machine flying your leg. Brazil’s aircraft register is public and searchable by registration. Single-piston, single-turbine and twin-turbine are three different risk populations separated by an order of magnitude.
- 2
Under which rule is the flight being sold?
A panoramic flight sold under RBAC 135 sits inside a commercial oversight regime. One sold as something else does not. Ask, and ask for the operator’s authorisation number.
- 3
Does the aircraft’s capability match the mission profile?
Rio sightseeing means low altitude over terrain with no landing options and weather that changes by the ridge. Ask what the operator’s minima are, who decides to cancel, and whether that decision sits with the pilot or with the person who sold the seat.
4. Who loses money if this flight is cancelled for weather?
This is the question I did not know to ask until it cost me. If the contract refunds you when the operator cancels and forfeits your fare when you cancel, then the person best placed to advise you on the weather has been paid to tell you it is flyable. Ask for a term where either side can stand the flight down against named objective triggers: a Civil Defence severe-wind advisory, a municipal Estágio 3, a METAR or TAF above an agreed gust threshold, an active SIGMET for the route, with a full refund or free rebooking. If the operator will not write that down, you have learned something about how their safety advice is generated.
If those four answers are unavailable, that is itself the answer.
One more thing I got wrong, in case it is useful. On 7 August the question in front of me was framed as: fly at 16:00 from the resort, or do not fly at all. There was a third option nobody put on the table. The resort landing site is turbulence-prone in the prevailing wind, and a prepared aerodrome sat twenty-five minutes away by road. Repositioning the pickup would have removed the most wind-sensitive part of the flight while keeping the flight. The resort-direct landing had been a hard-won convenience during planning, and it had quietly stopped being a variable. Before you cancel an air leg for weather, ask what can be changed rather than only whether to go.
What we changed because of this
It is always easy to say it is safer not to. Cancelling never looks wrong, never shows up in a report, and costs the person giving the advice nothing. It costs the client their day, their money and their trip. That asymmetry is why the industry default drifts toward no, and it is not prudence. It is moving the cost of our own uncertainty onto the person who hired us.
The alternative is not to be braver. It is to measure. These are the five changes that came out of this analysis and are now in force.
- 1
The aircraft is chosen on the rate table, in writing, before booking.
We name the registration and engine configuration of the specific machine, look up the family, and put the accident and fatal-accident rate in front of the client alongside the price. Eighty-fold variation under one rulebook is not a detail to discover on the day.
- 2
Every rotary leg gets a disinterested weather read before anyone is asked to decide.
METAR, TAF and any active SIGMET for the nearest reporting stations, pulled and recorded. We disclose conditions, not the disagreement about conditions. A client asked to arbitrate between two conflicted advisors will pick the cautious option every time, and that is not an informed decision, it is a defensive one.
- 3
No air operator gets our business on a one-way cancellation term.
Either party may stand the flight down against named objective triggers, with a full refund or free rebooking. A clause that refunds on operator cancellation and forfeits on client cancellation buys the operator’s safety opinion, and then bills us for taking the safe option.
- 4
The landing site is a variable, recorded with an alternate.
Every air movement is planned with a primary site and a prepared-aerodrome alternate, and the conditions under which the alternate is preferred. Never hand a principal a binary when a mitigation exists.
- 5
The decision stays with the client, but the picture we hand them has to be measured.
Full disclosure including our own team’s dissent was right and stays. What changes is what is in the disclosure. Not "we think it is risky", but the observed conditions, the aircraft’s record, and what the historical distribution of outcomes looks like for this kind of flight.
The rule
Never give a principal a verdict where you can give them a measurement.
Cancelling is the easy answer. Sometimes it is the right one. The trouble is that from the outside a correct cancellation and an unnecessary one look identical: the flight did not happen and nobody got hurt. You never find out which one you bought. That is why the default drifts, and it is why the only defence is knowing what you cancelled. Without a measurement, the thing making the call is not judgement. It is discomfort.
Method, sources and reproduction
Every figure above comes from a primary regulator or investigator dataset, joined locally. The numerator is CENIPA/COMAER open data (Sistema DÉDALO), file update 18 May 2026, counting accidents only: serious incidents and ordinary incidents are excluded rather than pooled. The denominator is ANAC’s Horas Voadas de Aeronave, complete through December 2024. Fleet: ANAC’s Registro Aeronáutico Brasileiro, 9 August 2026. Movements: CGNA/DECEA’s Anuário Estatístico de Tráfego Aéreo 2025. Historical benchmark: ANAC, Segurança Operacional para Helicópteros, 2011 data.
Two source notes worth passing on to anyone repeating this work. ANAC’s flight-hour dataset is documented as updating daily; the file served on 9 August 2026 was last written on 3 February 2025 and stops at January 2025. And ANAC’s mirrored occurrence extract carries a banner reading “Atualizado em: 2026-08-09” while containing no occurrence later than June 2024. That date is the rebuild timestamp, not the data coverage. We used CENIPA’s own extract instead. If your Brazilian aviation analysis disagrees with this one, that mirror is the first place to look.
We will re-run this table when ANAC publishes flight hours past January 2025, and again when CENIPA publishes final reports on the 2026 Rio accidents.
Use this data
The full table is available as machine-readable JSON under CC BY 4.0, and the chart may be embedded with attribution and a link to this page. Journalists and researchers are free to cite it.