Emergency landing
About a week ago, I met up with a friend, who happens to be a 1,000+ hour CFII and an air traffic controller. After I did a full pre-flight (oil was changed about 9 hours ago; > 7 quarts; about 27 gallons of fuel on board, plane in great shape), we set off towards Riverside (KRAL) to pick up Sara, a Pilots n' Paws rescue:
While at Riverside I filled the fuel tanks “to tabs” (50 gallons usable), and after waiting a few minutes for everything to settle, sumped the tanks. No water, no debris.
Had an uneventful flight to Camarillo (KCMA), where we met Sara’s new “forever family.” (That was nice; usually on these flights, I’m transporting the rescue dog(s) from one rescue/foster situation to another, this was the first time I got to meet the pup’s new family.)
Mission accomplished, my friend and I waited the interminable Sunday afternoon wait for tri-tip at Waypoint and then, satiated, set out towards home. After a normal run-up, Camarillo Tower asked if we wanted a left cross-wind, or right cross-wind, departure. Left means talking to at least Pt. Mugu Tower (ordinarily also Oxnard Tower, but Camarillo “gave them a point-out”), but you’re flying back over the coast, rather than nothing but obnoxious terrain and urban density (but you don’t have to hastily switch frequencies to talk to other control towers). Still gunshy from the accident in September, I picked the coastal option; we’d be low to clear the LAX Class B airspace, and while a water ditch isn’t a first choice maneuver, it was better than the alternatives if “something happens.”
Normal take-off and climb-out, we get cleared to transition through Pt. Mugu’s airspace, and I proceed direct SADDE, leveling off at 3,500' due to our direction of travel, the aforementioned Bravo shelf, and the Special Flight Rules corridor we’d be flying back to Torrance (3500' over LAX southeast bound; northwest traffic flies at 4500').
Everything was fine, I configured for cruise power, closed the cowl flaps, leaned out the mixture a bit, and let the autopilot (GPSS) do its thing.
Until, suddenly and utterly without warning, the engine was gone. Went from sewing-machine smooth to not making any power whatsoever instantly. Not sure if we lost it completely or if it was running at idle (throttle at WOT, prop set for 2550 RPM), but we were going down.
I called the Mayday (we were still on with Pt. Mugu), and my passenger insisted we had to turn back towards the field - but a quick glance at ForeFlight’s Glide Advisor told me that was a no-go (we were about 8 miles east of the field). (The owner’s manual doesn’t have a glide range chart for this plane, so I had the Glide Advisor set to a more conservative 9:1, for those reasons.) Pissed that this was happening (I did everything right! Good plane, with a good mechanical history; plenty of fuel, oil; proper pre-flight, run-up ... How could this happen?! Again!?), I set for best glide and started maneuvering towards the ocean. My passenger took over comms, squawked 7700, and prompted me to change tanks and hit the boost pump - nothing. He played with the throttle. Nothing (he swears he got a little something out of it, but I don't recall that). Finally, for reasons unclear (except, we were gliding towards a water ditch with minutes of stress ahead, so what could it hurt?), I pulled the mixture back, and almost at idle cutoff, the engine roared back to life.
We were configured at something like 22" manifold pressure and maybe 2000 RPM, but we had arrested our descent and I wasn’t going to touch anything until we had the airport environment made. My passenger actually asked, “we’re still going to land, right?” You’re goddamned right...
I won’t win any pilot-of-the-year awards for my beeline back to Naval Base Ventura County - Pt. Mugu (KNTD); I refused to give up any altitude or touch the power settings - but we made it back. They assigned us runway 27/9 (winds were 200 at 10), runway 21 might have been a better choice but better the bird in the hand ... The first thousand feet of 27 are setup like an aircraft carrier (paint, and arrestor gear at the end), helpfully pointed out by my passenger, who also remarked: “We’re really f’ing high!” Yes, yes we were.
I finally pulled power and pitched up to get us to VLE, put the gear down and added flaps. All the flaps. And slipped it down. All the way down. Took the slip out in the flare, and, a little hot (100 mph roughly), got it down and stopped in the 3500' between arrestor cables. I chirped the left main a bit. There may be a flat spot, but I don’t think so. We came to a stop just across intersecting Runway 21, and gingerly taxi’d over the arrestor cable at the direction of the control tower. Once off at Taxiway Charlie, we were met with emergency vehicles (fire); we shut down and exited, and they returned to base, to make room for the six “force protection” military police vehicles coming our way with red-and-blue lights flashing.
They took a quick look inside the plane, verified we weren’t carrying weapons, took our IDs. I asked for, and got, permission to take this shot (nothing sensitive in the background):
We left the plane there and were transported (squished into the back of a cop car) back to the base to fill out some paperwork. They needed a copy of my airworthiness certificate, which we hadn’t grabbed from the plane, so we went back out to retrieve it - in the front seat this time - and while there I chocked the gear and left a note about how to tow it, if necessary (carefully, not exceeding the indicators).
At first they were going to just escort us off the base, out to one of the gates (Las Posas probably), where we could hopefully summon an Uber or something, but one of the civilian contractors was about to end his shift and graciously offered us a ride back to Camarillo Airport, where a friend (also based at Torrance) was coming to fetch us in a Cirrus:
Monday, I talked to the airfield manager, who asked me to come move the plane off his taxiway. I was happy to oblige. (“If you can’t get it started, I’ll get a bunch of guys to help you push.”) It fired right up and I taxi’d it over to parking; it is, as of this writing, still parked on the flight line with a bunch of E-2 Hawkeyes. Anyway, getting a mechanic onto the field was less of an event than I feared; the airfield manager gave me his cell phone number and offered to escort to the plane myself and/or a mechanic.
I posted this tale of woe to social media and was inundated with offers of assistance, from personnel at the Air Guard unit that shares Pt. Mugu with the Navy, to Mooney pilots out of Camarillo referring me to local A&Ps. We ended up with one of those referrals, who got out to look at the plane yesterday and, after checking all the other possibilities, confirmed what a number of reports had led us to suspect: Fuel servo. Part ordered, now we wait...
2018.07.18 Update: The Aircraft Spruce order showed as “shipped” on 7/30/2018, which is still almost two weeks in the future. Their order details page made me a bit nervous: “Ship date noted is estimated date according to the factory, please call customer service ... if not received within 14 days of date noted above.” (Emphasis added.)
I sent in an inquiry, asking if it could be expedited. This morning I learned the part shipped yesterday. Phew! I let the airfield manager at the Naval Base know, and he thanked me for the update and, CC’ing, like, everybody (including a bunch of Force Protection folks), reminded me:
2018.07.21 Update: The fuel servo arrived yesterday. The mechanic was able to get out there this morning to remove the old servo. He found this piece of rubber inside the throttle body (penny provided for size reference):
Yikes!
2018.07.27 Update: Fuel servo installed, but still problematic. From the mechanic:
http://www.aircraftspruce.com/catalog/eppages/contlycfuelpump.php
http://www.aircraftspruce.com/catalog/eppages/lycomingfuelpump_07-00705.php
This is the one we ordered:
Had an uneventful flight to Camarillo (KCMA), where we met Sara’s new “forever family.” (That was nice; usually on these flights, I’m transporting the rescue dog(s) from one rescue/foster situation to another, this was the first time I got to meet the pup’s new family.)
Mission accomplished, my friend and I waited the interminable Sunday afternoon wait for tri-tip at Waypoint and then, satiated, set out towards home. After a normal run-up, Camarillo Tower asked if we wanted a left cross-wind, or right cross-wind, departure. Left means talking to at least Pt. Mugu Tower (ordinarily also Oxnard Tower, but Camarillo “gave them a point-out”), but you’re flying back over the coast, rather than nothing but obnoxious terrain and urban density (but you don’t have to hastily switch frequencies to talk to other control towers). Still gunshy from the accident in September, I picked the coastal option; we’d be low to clear the LAX Class B airspace, and while a water ditch isn’t a first choice maneuver, it was better than the alternatives if “something happens.”
Normal take-off and climb-out, we get cleared to transition through Pt. Mugu’s airspace, and I proceed direct SADDE, leveling off at 3,500' due to our direction of travel, the aforementioned Bravo shelf, and the Special Flight Rules corridor we’d be flying back to Torrance (3500' over LAX southeast bound; northwest traffic flies at 4500').
Everything was fine, I configured for cruise power, closed the cowl flaps, leaned out the mixture a bit, and let the autopilot (GPSS) do its thing.
Until, suddenly and utterly without warning, the engine was gone. Went from sewing-machine smooth to not making any power whatsoever instantly. Not sure if we lost it completely or if it was running at idle (throttle at WOT, prop set for 2550 RPM), but we were going down.
I called the Mayday (we were still on with Pt. Mugu), and my passenger insisted we had to turn back towards the field - but a quick glance at ForeFlight’s Glide Advisor told me that was a no-go (we were about 8 miles east of the field). (The owner’s manual doesn’t have a glide range chart for this plane, so I had the Glide Advisor set to a more conservative 9:1, for those reasons.) Pissed that this was happening (I did everything right! Good plane, with a good mechanical history; plenty of fuel, oil; proper pre-flight, run-up ... How could this happen?! Again!?), I set for best glide and started maneuvering towards the ocean. My passenger took over comms, squawked 7700, and prompted me to change tanks and hit the boost pump - nothing. He played with the throttle. Nothing (he swears he got a little something out of it, but I don't recall that). Finally, for reasons unclear (except, we were gliding towards a water ditch with minutes of stress ahead, so what could it hurt?), I pulled the mixture back, and almost at idle cutoff, the engine roared back to life.
We were configured at something like 22" manifold pressure and maybe 2000 RPM, but we had arrested our descent and I wasn’t going to touch anything until we had the airport environment made. My passenger actually asked, “we’re still going to land, right?” You’re goddamned right...
I won’t win any pilot-of-the-year awards for my beeline back to Naval Base Ventura County - Pt. Mugu (KNTD); I refused to give up any altitude or touch the power settings - but we made it back. They assigned us runway 27/9 (winds were 200 at 10), runway 21 might have been a better choice but better the bird in the hand ... The first thousand feet of 27 are setup like an aircraft carrier (paint, and arrestor gear at the end), helpfully pointed out by my passenger, who also remarked: “We’re really f’ing high!” Yes, yes we were.
I finally pulled power and pitched up to get us to VLE, put the gear down and added flaps. All the flaps. And slipped it down. All the way down. Took the slip out in the flare, and, a little hot (100 mph roughly), got it down and stopped in the 3500' between arrestor cables. I chirped the left main a bit. There may be a flat spot, but I don’t think so. We came to a stop just across intersecting Runway 21, and gingerly taxi’d over the arrestor cable at the direction of the control tower. Once off at Taxiway Charlie, we were met with emergency vehicles (fire); we shut down and exited, and they returned to base, to make room for the six “force protection” military police vehicles coming our way with red-and-blue lights flashing.
They took a quick look inside the plane, verified we weren’t carrying weapons, took our IDs. I asked for, and got, permission to take this shot (nothing sensitive in the background):
We left the plane there and were transported (squished into the back of a cop car) back to the base to fill out some paperwork. They needed a copy of my airworthiness certificate, which we hadn’t grabbed from the plane, so we went back out to retrieve it - in the front seat this time - and while there I chocked the gear and left a note about how to tow it, if necessary (carefully, not exceeding the indicators).
At first they were going to just escort us off the base, out to one of the gates (Las Posas probably), where we could hopefully summon an Uber or something, but one of the civilian contractors was about to end his shift and graciously offered us a ride back to Camarillo Airport, where a friend (also based at Torrance) was coming to fetch us in a Cirrus:
Monday, I talked to the airfield manager, who asked me to come move the plane off his taxiway. I was happy to oblige. (“If you can’t get it started, I’ll get a bunch of guys to help you push.”) It fired right up and I taxi’d it over to parking; it is, as of this writing, still parked on the flight line with a bunch of E-2 Hawkeyes. Anyway, getting a mechanic onto the field was less of an event than I feared; the airfield manager gave me his cell phone number and offered to escort to the plane myself and/or a mechanic.
I posted this tale of woe to social media and was inundated with offers of assistance, from personnel at the Air Guard unit that shares Pt. Mugu with the Navy, to Mooney pilots out of Camarillo referring me to local A&Ps. We ended up with one of those referrals, who got out to look at the plane yesterday and, after checking all the other possibilities, confirmed what a number of reports had led us to suspect: Fuel servo. Part ordered, now we wait...
2018.07.18 Update: The Aircraft Spruce order showed as “shipped” on 7/30/2018, which is still almost two weeks in the future. Their order details page made me a bit nervous: “Ship date noted is estimated date according to the factory, please call customer service ... if not received within 14 days of date noted above.” (Emphasis added.)
I sent in an inquiry, asking if it could be expedited. This morning I learned the part shipped yesterday. Phew! I let the airfield manager at the Naval Base know, and he thanked me for the update and, CC’ing, like, everybody (including a bunch of Force Protection folks), reminded me:
Just remember, that when you're ready to return back to the base, I can have someone meet you at the Los Posas Gate to escort you to your aircraft. Just show up in the gravel lot outside the gate any time between 0700-2300, 7-days a week and call [redacted] and someone will be right out to meet you.
I was really nervous this was going to be a much bigger deal than it ended up being; the Navy has been very accommodating and reasonable. Again, phew.
2018.07.21 Update: The fuel servo arrived yesterday. The mechanic was able to get out there this morning to remove the old servo. He found this piece of rubber inside the throttle body (penny provided for size reference):
Yikes!
2018.07.27 Update: Fuel servo installed, but still problematic. From the mechanic:
The mechanical fuel pump pressure is one to two PSI up until you call for full power, at which point the fuel pressure drops to unmeasurable and the engine will only make about 2100 rpm. With the aux [electrical boost] pump on the engine makes full power. [...] The fuel lines look good with no leakage observed from the entire fuel system.The A&P further elaborated on the probable cause of all of this:
The in-flight failure was wither caused by the ingestion of the ram air gasket into the throttle body of the fuel servo or the low fuel pressure either causing fuel percolation, based on vapor pressure, or basic fuel starvation. If I recall correctly you said you could get the engine to make limited power by pulling the mixture back. That would be consistent with the fuel servo throttle body being restricted by the ram air gasket enough to make the fuel mixture too rich to support combustion due to the limited air flow.Anyway. There are apparently two fuel pumps for the IO-360, the older LW15473 (replacing the 40296), and the newer 62B26931, which Lycoming has identified as the replacement for the no longer produced LW15473. However, folks on MooneySpace and in the AircraftSpruce reviews for the 62B26931 both say the newer pump runs at too high a pressure for the Mooney spec. Aircraft Spruce has two pages for what it turns out is the same pump:
http://www.aircraftspruce.com/catalog/eppages/contlycfuelpump.php
http://www.aircraftspruce.com/catalog/eppages/lycomingfuelpump_07-00705.php
This is the one we ordered:
(That page has now been updated to also include the “62B26931” designation.) The other pump has one review, which reads:
This pump is listed as a drop in replacement for the 30 psi LW-15473 pump. This is supported by Lycoming SL L255A. However, the 62B26931 pump is a higher pressure pump (not published) and may not be compatible with some aircraft, like our Mooney with a 30psi redline. Negotiating with Lycoming regarding reimbursement. New LW-15473 solved our problem. Rating 3 stars because of the compatibility problem and warranty difficulty.Wednesday afternoon we ordered the first one, obviously ($472.80 shipped with a gasket), but the order confirmation email contained a link to the second pump! I emailed AircraftSpruce immediately and tried to call, but customer service was already closed; in any event, the part shipped almost immediately (that evening). Thursday morning I got confirmation the 62B26931 pump was the one shipped:
The LW15473 is no longer available. The page listed 07-00705 as a LW15473, but is a 62B26931 which is the approved equivalent replacement per Lycoming Service Letter L255A. I have updated that webpage to accurately show it as a 62B26931. The only option would be an overhauled unit through Tempest.So, okay, we got an RMA for the 62B26931, and ordered the Tempest overhauled LW15473 (part no. 05-19010). $259 with a $100 core charge, so we’re out of pocket another $404 temporarily (including a gasket and shipping). Sigh. The Tempest pump should be at the mechanic’s shop today. (Aircraft Spruce ground shipping from the Corona location is lightning quick.) We’ve paid the mechanic $1,500 so far. But, nothing’s bent, no one’s bruised... But can we have the plane back please?!
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