Emergency

It was the 3rd leg of an Angel Flight and I wasn't even supposed to be
flying it. I'd already flown the second leg from Natchez, MS to
Monroeville, AL, but the 3rd leg pilot had mysteriously failed to show--no
call, no nothin'. It was late, I was tired and I was mad. I had two pax
aboard.

We were in the clouds and in the dark in a Cutlass RG approaching Macon, GA
(MCN). The outside temperature was 13 C and moisture was streaming back on
the windshield. The throttle was fully open, the RPM was set for 2500 and
the mixture was leaned to 10.5 gph. The autopilot was holding course and
altitude. I was studying the ILS approach plate when I noticed the AP's
"up" trim warning light illuminate.

A quick scan of the instruments showed the IAS at 100 and falling; normally
it would indicate 125 at that altitude. I had detected no change in the
engine sound. I immediately hit the AP disable switch to prevent its
stalling the airplane. This was right and wrong, as I now had to do all the
flying while troubleshooting the problem. What I should have done was
disable the altitude hold and allow the AP to continue keeping us on course
and wings level.

Any attempt to lift the nose resulted in a sickening drop in airspeed. The
situation was now officially scary: we were going down on a dark, rainy
night over central Georgia.

I shoved the prop and mixture full forward, confirmed the throttle was wide
open and the primer was in. No improvement. There was no unusual
vibration. The engine still sounded good and was still making 2500 rpm, but
the prop was probably in flat pitch to do it. I tried the electric fuel
pump: no joy. I glanced at the JPI engine analyzer and saw that all four
cylinders showed roughly even EGTs. All this took much less than a minute;
maybe only 30 seconds.

Finally, I pulled the carb heat. Within a few seconds I felt a surge of
power and we began to climb. I don't know for sure what a death row inmate
feels like when the governor calls at the last minute, but I'm guessing it
feels something like that.

My heart was pounding in my chest and I was so stoked on adrenalin my hands
were shaking. The front seat passenger was looking at me wide-eyed--he
didn't know what was happening, but he had figured out *something* wasn't
right. I had wandered 40 deg. off course and Atlanta Approach was repeating
a frequency change instruction. In a few moments I had us back on course
and altitude but I was still somewhat rattled and blew the readback on
Atlanta's initial approach instructions. Got that sorted out and made an
uneventful ILS approach to runway 5 at MCN.

Not a totally satisfying performance. I ended up doing the right thing and
we lived; that's the good news. The bad news is that allowed myself to rush
things. A moment's thought would have prevented the autopilot mistake. A
calmer, more orderly flow through the engine controls would have led me to
the carb heat sooner and saved a few unnecessary extra seconds of high
anxiety. Next time I have an emergency (please: NO next time!) I'll try to
take it a little slower.

I'm still surprised that the carb iced up at full throttle. Conditions were
in the bad area of the carb ice chart, but my engine has never seemed prone
to the problem. In 650+ hours I've only detected carb ice once before, and
that was after a long taxi on a cool, rainy day.

--
Dan
C172RG at BFM

On 03/27/06 16:21, Dan Luke wrote:

[ great story snipped ]

I just wanted to thank you for sharing your experience and thoughts with
the rest of us.

I've often wondered how I will perform in an actual event, given the
practiced versions are so 'uneventful'. My hope is that I'll stay calm
and go through the 'checklists', but only time will tell.

Thanks again.


--
Mark Hansen, PP-ASEL, Instrument Airplane
Cal Aggie Flying Farmers
Sacramento, CA

Dan Luke wrote:

I'm still surprised that the carb iced up at full throttle. Conditions were
in the bad area of the carb ice chart, but my engine has never seemed prone
to the problem. In 650+ hours I've only detected carb ice once before, and
that was after a long taxi on a cool, rainy day.

Thanks, Dan, for posting your experience. I have to admit that I never
gave the individual AP modes during an emergency much thought until reading
your post.

Very happy to read of your successful outcome.


--
Peter

On Mon, 27 Mar 2006 16:51:29 -0800, Mark Hansen wrote:

I've often wondered how I will perform in an actual event, given the
practiced versions are so 'uneventful'. My hope is that I'll stay calm
and go through the 'checklists', but only time will tell.

To be quite honest Mark, when it comes to an emergency, and referring to a
checklist, having myself been through a partial engine failure (exhaust
valve bit the dust) that check list really becomes a moot point when the
failure is not your standard failure as in Dan's case.

The best thing to do is commit the essential trouble shooting tips to
memory, as when it comes to the real deal, aviate will become your primary
focus of attention (in my case, establish 78 knot glide speed) and then
start trouble shooting by doing what you remember on the list. For me it
was check mags, change tanks, fuel pump, carb heat mixture and once I got
past that with no improvement, then navigated and communicated my
emergency. My only thing I didn't do, which the list would have reminded
me to do was open the cabin door.

All through this, I still heard my instructor say "Fly the plane". By
doing that, actually kept me focused and calm during the actual emergency.

Now, keep in mind, I was the sole occupant, had I had a passenger, I would
have enlisted their help in reading to me a laminated emergency checklist I
created. You can see what I posted at

http://groups.google.com/group/rec.a...6bdfa0c25cc49d

and the excellent feedback and suggestions I received.

Allen

I have long been convinced that becoming a truly proficient and competent
pilot is the result of the sum of a series of 'mini-emergencies' (not to
minimize yours - sounds like a REAL emergency). What I mean is that over
years of flying we all face small crises and we learn how to deal with them.
And each time we do, we become better crisis managers. A little ice this
time, a little low-fuel situation the next, two-out-of-three green on the
landing gear, strange sparks from the engine in-flight, and switching to the
wrong tanks at night. All recoverable, and all with lots of boring, 'normal'
flights in between. But each time, the ability to stay calm, aviate,
analyze, and correct makes for a better pilot, better able to handle the
'next one'.

As others have said, thanks for sharing your story. Glad things turned out
well. You criticize yourself for what you did wrong - how about all the
things you did right?
"Dan Luke" wrote in message
...
It was the 3rd leg of an Angel Flight and I wasn't even supposed to be
flying it. I'd already flown the second leg from Natchez, MS to
Monroeville, AL, but the 3rd leg pilot had mysteriously failed to show--no
call, no nothin'. It was late, I was tired and I was mad. I had two pax
aboard.

We were in the clouds and in the dark in a Cutlass RG approaching Macon,
GA (MCN). The outside temperature was 13 C and moisture was streaming
back on the windshield. The throttle was fully open, the RPM was set for
2500 and the mixture was leaned to 10.5 gph. The autopilot was holding
course and altitude. I was studying the ILS approach plate when I noticed
the AP's "up" trim warning light illuminate.

A quick scan of the instruments showed the IAS at 100 and falling;
normally it would indicate 125 at that altitude. I had detected no change
in the engine sound. I immediately hit the AP disable switch to prevent
its stalling the airplane. This was right and wrong, as I now had to do
all the flying while troubleshooting the problem. What I should have done
was disable the altitude hold and allow the AP to continue keeping us on
course and wings level.

Any attempt to lift the nose resulted in a sickening drop in airspeed.
The situation was now officially scary: we were going down on a dark,
rainy night over central Georgia.

I shoved the prop and mixture full forward, confirmed the throttle was
wide open and the primer was in. No improvement. There was no unusual
vibration. The engine still sounded good and was still making 2500 rpm,
but the prop was probably in flat pitch to do it. I tried the electric
fuel pump: no joy. I glanced at the JPI engine analyzer and saw that all
four cylinders showed roughly even EGTs. All this took much less than a
minute; maybe only 30 seconds.

Finally, I pulled the carb heat. Within a few seconds I felt a surge of
power and we began to climb. I don't know for sure what a death row inmate
feels like when the governor calls at the last minute, but I'm guessing it
feels something like that.

My heart was pounding in my chest and I was so stoked on adrenalin my
hands were shaking. The front seat passenger was looking at me
wide-eyed--he didn't know what was happening, but he had figured out
*something* wasn't right. I had wandered 40 deg. off course and Atlanta
Approach was repeating a frequency change instruction. In a few moments I
had us back on course and altitude but I was still somewhat rattled and
blew the readback on Atlanta's initial approach instructions. Got that
sorted out and made an uneventful ILS approach to runway 5 at MCN.

Not a totally satisfying performance. I ended up doing the right thing
and we lived; that's the good news. The bad news is that allowed myself
to rush things. A moment's thought would have prevented the autopilot
mistake. A calmer, more orderly flow through the engine controls would
have led me to the carb heat sooner and saved a few unnecessary extra
seconds of high anxiety. Next time I have an emergency (please: NO next
time!) I'll try to take it a little slower.

I'm still surprised that the carb iced up at full throttle. Conditions
were in the bad area of the carb ice chart, but my engine has never seemed
prone to the problem. In 650+ hours I've only detected carb ice once
before, and that was after a long taxi on a cool, rainy day.

--
Dan
C172RG at BFM

Glad you found the problem in time. Did your manifold pressure drop?
Otherwise, those of you with constant speed props have to be more
sensitive to carb icing as you don't get any other clues except maybe a
falling EGT.

Personally I've found manifold pressure and EGT to be an excellent
cross check on engine performance even though I'm flying a fixed pitch
A/C.

Morgans wrote:

I have to disagree, on that one. A proficient pilot never puts himself in a
situation like that, in the first place, ideally.

If one flies a lot, one is bound to experience an unplanned mechanical
failure of some type that could be classified as a minor emergency.

Proficiency is not always about "avoiding" a situation, but rather
sometimes it is about "handling" an unavoidable situation.


--
Peter

Glad it worked out ok Dan. Thanks for posting the experience. Even
though I fly behind a fuel injected Lyc., it's a nice reminder that carb
ice (among other things) happens sometimes


--
Jack Allison
PP-ASEL-Instrument Airplane
Arrow N2104T

"When once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the Earth
with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there
you will always long to return"
- Leonardo Da Vinci

(Remove the obvious from address to reply via e-mail)

On 03/27/06 17:30, A Lieberman wrote:
On Mon, 27 Mar 2006 16:51:29 -0800, Mark Hansen wrote:

I've often wondered how I will perform in an actual event, given the
practiced versions are so 'uneventful'. My hope is that I'll stay calm
and go through the 'checklists', but only time will tell.

To be quite honest Mark, when it comes to an emergency, and referring to a
checklist, having myself been through a partial engine failure (exhaust
valve bit the dust) that check list really becomes a moot point when the
failure is not your standard failure as in Dan's case.

Yes, Allen. I put checklists in quotes in my attempt to mean what ever
is the appropriate thing to do in that situation.


The best thing to do is commit the essential trouble shooting tips to
memory, as when it comes to the real deal, aviate will become your primary
focus of attention (in my case, establish 78 knot glide speed) and then
start trouble shooting by doing what you remember on the list. For me it
was check mags, change tanks, fuel pump, carb heat mixture and once I got
past that with no improvement, then navigated and communicated my
emergency. My only thing I didn't do, which the list would have reminded
me to do was open the cabin door.

All through this, I still heard my instructor say "Fly the plane". By
doing that, actually kept me focused and calm during the actual emergency.

Now, keep in mind, I was the sole occupant, had I had a passenger, I would
have enlisted their help in reading to me a laminated emergency checklist I
created. You can see what I posted at

http://groups.google.com/group/rec.a...6bdfa0c25cc49d

and the excellent feedback and suggestions I received.

Allen


--
Mark Hansen, PP-ASEL, Instrument Airplane
Cal Aggie Flying Farmers
Sacramento, CA

Morgans wrote:
I have long been convinced that becoming a truly proficient and competent
pilot is the result of the sum of a series of 'mini-emergencies' (not to
minimize yours - sounds like a REAL emergency). What I mean is that over
years of flying we all face small crises and we learn how to deal with them.
And each time we do, we become better crisis managers.

I have to disagree, on that one. A proficient pilot never puts himself in a
situation like that, in the first place, ideally.


That's an overly idealistic point of view. Some problems aren't easily avoided.
Ever flown into an embedded cell? I know how to avoid them... never fly when
there's a cloud in the sky.

However, since I intend to get some utility out of the airplane and my
instrument rating, I better know what to do when that cloud suddenly gets BUMPY.
Or when the manifold pressure starts slipping down a bit at a time when you're
solid IFR. These are problems; you better be able to deal with them. Simply
saying a proficient pilot doesn't get himself into these jams doesn't really cut
it.


--
Mortimer Schnerd, RN

VE