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IFE: An unsavory acronym we’re loath to hear anytime on the radio; In Flight Emergency. Sooner or later, everyone that pilots an aircraft is going to experience some sort of in flight emergency. I recently experienced my first one, and it was a doozy!

It was about 5 degrees outside on a sunny Saturday morning as a friend and I took off for a short flight to Oshkosh (OSH) and back, from Waukesha (UES) airport in Wisconsin. I like this flight because it’s right at 53 miles away, so I can log it for credit as a cross-country flight. My passenger, a friend from church, was interested in becoming a pilot, so I invited her along.

The preflight and takeoff from UES was uneventful, as was most of the trip north to OSH. As I was setting up to approach OSH, all of a sudden the instrument panel blinked, then I lost all my radios (navigation and communication)! I broke off the approach heading back south, and started to shut off all non-essential equipment; Strobe lights, Landing lights, Comm 2, Nav 2, and ADF. With those actions I got the Garmin 430 GPS (with its comm radio 1 and GPS) to come back on line. With a good running engine and a radio, I breathed a sigh of relief. I looked for any popped circuit breakers, and there were none, nor was the “Low Voltage” light illuminated. I decided to fly back to our home airport, now about a 20 minute flight. About nine miles out I called the tower and informed them of my electrical power problems and asked for landing instructions. He cleared me for a downwind entry to the pattern. As I was about two miles from the pattern, my radio blinked for the last time, and I lost it for the remainder of the flight. I squawked 7600 on my transponder (the code for lost communications radios), but thought it too was out of power. I then attempted to lower the landing gear and...no extension! Don’t you hate it when that happens? The gear’s hydraulic pump is driven by an electric motor. I broke off the approach and headed north to work the landing gear problem, and this time squawked 7700 on the transponder, which is the code for an emergency, in case it was working. I’d say that lack of com and nav radios, and the gear not coming down qualifies as an emergency, don’t you? I asked my passenger to keep her eyes on the lookout for other aircraft, since we were out of contact with the tower. Cycling the Avionics switch and Master Alternator switch did not fix anything, so I proceeded to hand-crank the gear down. This consists of reaching down between the seats for a long tube with a red ball at the end, extending it, and start to crank! You’re essentially acting as a hand pump to pressurize the hydraulic system. Although I could see the main gear was down, with a blank electrical panel I did not get that wonderful green light to reassure me of the gear being down and locked, so I cranked and I cranked and cranked some more. It occurred to me put my eyeball as close as possible to the green gear light. I un-strapped myself from the seat belts, bent down with my face almost touching the panel, and sure enough there was the faintest glow, WOOHOO! With a sore arm and sweat from the cranking, I carefully proceeded back to the airport. I then un-strapped my knee board and gave it to my passenger; it contains a listing of instructional light signals a tower may flash at you, when and if they decide to use it, and that she should keep an eye on the control tower where those lights may come from, concurrently with our prayers . I was now downwind for the second time in the pattern. I observed we were number two for landing and carefully started to adjust for the approach. It was then I remembered the flaps are electric! A quick attempt trying for 10 degrees, and sure enough, no response. Great, a no-flaps landing; I’d have to land at a higher airspeed. After what seemed like an endless float over the runway, we settled down on terra-firma and taxied back to the tie down area.

I later called the tower by phone to see if there were any ‘instructions’ for me. I explained what happened. He told me he heard my initial call (where I informed him of the radio/electrical problems), and that he tracked me on radar as I broke off the first approach. I asked if he used the light gun, and he said that on such bright days, most pilots don’t see the signals. I was later informed that the alternator on the aircraft was ‘fried’, accounting for the loss of electrical gear.

The next day at church my passenger’s rather husky hubby thanked me for returning his wife in one piece; gee thanks. In hindsight I was really impressed that my passenger was so cool and un-perturbed. Yes, she is still interested in getting her ticket.

And speak about road blocks to achieving your goals, I recall when I was a student pilot, there was one flight that I got motion sickness. No, I didn’t deposit any cookies in the barf bag, but my instructor thought I might drop the idea of getting my ticket based on this bit of physical travail. I looked that instructor in the eyes and told him that if necessary, I would put on several of those motion-sickness-inhibiting patches to get through the course. I did not have a repeat episode.

Go after your dreams-GET SOME!

1/16/07

Roy Resto - VP Technical Operations, FAA-DAR
Phone: 414 875-2191   Fax: 414 875-0200
royboy@mbtrepair.com

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