Real versus simulated emergency |
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I had an intermittent ALT 1
failure in IMC this morning during an Angel Flight with two passengers from
Westchester (HPN) to Boston Logan (BOS). I ultimately declared an emergency and
returned to HPN. In the 25 minutes it took to diagnose the problem, decide what
to do about it, and then execute an instrument approach in low IFR conditions,
I couldn’t help but realize the stark contrast between a real emergency in IMC
and the simulated emergency situations that we all practice in training. I
thought it would be helpful to share this experience with the COPA membership
and gain other pilots’ viewpoints and critique on what happened.
Several minutes after takeoff the plane was climbing smoothly at 1,000 fpm to
cruise altitude (7,000 feet); as I scanned the right side of the panel and
toggled the ammeter switch I couldn’t help but notice that ALT 1 was not
producing any power, that the battery was draining, and that ALT 2 was not
generating any power either. But when I looked back to the left side of the
panel I was surprised to see that the ALT 1 annunciator light was not on. I
continued the climb (the weather was solid IMC) and was busy dealing with ATC,
when a minute or two later I saw the ALT 1 annunciator light go on.
My first reaction was to advise ATC that I needed to return to HPN, so the
controller instructed me to reverse course, descend to 2,000 feet, plan for the
ILS 16 approach and confirm that I had the new ATIS. I had not told the
controller why I needed to return, nor was there any mention of an emergency. A
moment later the controller repeated the request that I check the new ATIS and
advise him when I got it, or he could read it for me to copy. I was already
plenty busy starting the descent, turning and selecting an ILS approach for HPN
on the Garmin (which was determined to offer up only approaches at BOS), so
quite frankly ATC’s interest in the latest ATIS was just not a priority for me.
In fact, I was beginning to feel some pressure from the situation, so I told
the controller that I unable to copy the ATIS just yet and besides, I had just
taken off from HPN ten minutes before and knew that the conditions were quite
poor (i.e., 1 mile visibility and 400 foot indefinite ceiling).
As I pulled the power lever back below the detent for the descent, I saw that
this caused the ALT 1 annunciator light to go off; the ammeter now showed that
ALT 1 was generating power and the battery was not draining. This is quite odd,
I thought. Was this a real alternator failure or an instrumentation problem?
The Emax page had showed steady power and engine gauge readings, while the
analog gauges were now jumping around and the ammeter had a hard time deciding
whether ALT 1 was generating power or not. The annunciator panel showed the ALT
1 light on sometimes, then off. There was no consistency among the various
instruments. I was caught in a bit of a quandary: I didn’t want to cancel an
Angel Flight based on instrumentation anomalies, but on the other hand I
certainly couldn’t continue a flight on a low IFR day with an intermittent
alternator and an uncertain battery situation. (Note from the comfort of my
armchair: before the static issue was solved, I routinely had instrumentation
anomalies of all sorts, and learned to discount them and invariably continue
flying).
I advised ATC to cancel my request to return to HPN; I was quickly back at
7,000 feet and on course to BOS. With the benefit of a huge tailwind, I was
only 38 minutes away, so I thought that it might be reasonable to continue the
flight. A few minutes after the plane settled into cruising speed, I was now
with Hartford Approach Control and soon afterward the ALT 1 annunciator light
went back on; this time the Emax and analog gauges were all in agreement that
the alternator was not, in fact, generating any power. I pulled back the power
lever to 2,000 rpm, and lo and behold the alternator came back alive. As I
tweaked the power back up, the alternator failed again. I now had enough
information to be confident that I had an intermittent alternator at best, and
could not complete the flight to BOS. I told my passengers that we needed to
turn back.
I then advised ATC that I had an alternator problem and needed to return to
HPN. ATC gave me a new clearance, first to the south direct to Bridgeport, then
west to RYMES intersection, then vectors for the ILS 16 approach. I programmed
this into the Garmin and began heading back toward HPN. I was now flying at
reduced power (120 KIAS rather than 160 KIAS), in order to ensure that the
alternator would continue generating power. After a few minutes, however, the
intermittent failures began again, and once again the Emax and analog gauges
started to disagree with one another as to what was really happening.
At this point I considered the possibility that perhaps the alternator had
actually failed long ago, at the start of the flight, and that soon the battery
would soon be drained of all power. I didn’t like the thought of flying in
heavy IMC without the MFD, flaps or the second Garmin, so I decided not to turn
off ALT 1 and BAT 1 before it was absolutely necessary. But I was now leery of
how much longer I would have full instrumentation. Plus, the route I was now
flying (especially at slow speed) was at least ten minutes longer than going
direct to the outer marker. In the intensity of that moment I also jumbled up
the different power shedding features of the plane, and reached the incorrect
conclusion that if ALT 1 and BAT 1 failed I would not be able to do an ILS
approach. (Note from the comfort of my armchair: this would only happen if the
PFD failed; contrary to what I thought at the time, even ALT 2 or BAT 2 would
power the PFD and give me ILS capability). The prospect of having to do a GPS
approach was totally unappealing, since the entire northeast was at low IFR,
probably at or below the minimums for every GPS approach within two hours’
flying distance.
I advised ATC that I had an emergency and needed to go directly to the ILS
approach course, rather than the usual, roundabout routing past Bridgeport and
RYMES. ATC quickly complied with this request and instructed other traffic to
slow down so that I would not have to get in line behind them for the approach.
While I did not feel physically nervous or full of adrenaline once I declared
an emergency and completed the approach, in retrospect my brain was numb to the
fact that I was at the edge of being overwhelmed by the number of tasks at
hand. In particular, thinking about the contingency of switching to ALT 2 and
losing various avionics components, while also thinking about the possibility
of a missed approach and then a GPS approach into somewhere, while at the same
time executing the assigned ILS approach in low IFR and dealing with a shifting
40 knot crosswind at 2,000 feet, led me to make two very serious mistakes: I
flipped the VOR frequency switch twice on the Garmin, so I was not tuned into
anything as I was being vectored to final; and because of the unpredictable
winds ATC turned me too late for the localizer and issued new vectors, which
led me to neglect to properly engage the autopilot in time. Thus I managed to
fly through the localizer twice. I corrected each error within a few seconds,
but it was quite amazing to see, in the real time of a pressured emergency
situation in IMC, how quickly things might get out of hand.
We broke out at 400 feet and less than a mile, and landed uneventfully in a
stiff crosswind. My passengers were quickly able to reschedule the doctor
appointment, and I called the SC to arrange for a new alternator. As I drove
home in the pouring rain and replayed the events of this flight, I was not
entirely pleased with the decisions (and mistakes) that I made at various points.
But given all the circumstances, I think it is inevitable that poor decisions
and silly mistakes will happen. I was just amazed at how much messier things
can get under actual conditions than in training.
Sounds like the Lancair has a very comprehensive and rugged
electrical system. But still no parachute or great headroom (or a positive
recommendation from Scott P.), so I'll keep my Cirrus. On the other hand, as you
point out, having the ability to isolate the bad alternator and use the second
alternator's huge capacity to feed both systems would certainly have been nice.
Your observations on task saturation are right on point: in fact, the more I
think about today, that's really the ultimate lesson from this experience. Its
amazing how insidious and intense it became, and without generating any
nervousness, panic or, in fact, realization that that's what I was in the midst
of. Perhaps hours of training in a simulator for a corporate or commercial jet
can prepare pilots more thoroughly for that kind of scenario. Certainly having
a co-pilot would provide immeasurable help: one can fly and communicate with
ATC, while the other can think and troubleshoot and double check frequencies,
get ATIS, twirl dials on the Garmin.
In retrospect its clear that what kept me from getting overloaded by the
saturation of events, tasks and potential problems was sticking to a
pre-determined routine for carrying out the immediate task of flying an
instrument approach in LIFR. I decided early on (for better or worse) that I
wanted to get back to HPN, because I know that "neighborhood" better
than any other airport; and that I'd fly a coupled approach. Briefing the
approach took no time because I fly the ILS 16 at HPN so often, but I still
circled all the key data and wrote them down on a post-it (my usual routine):
e.g., inbound heading, decision height and a reminder to ID the frequency. The
reason I was able to quickly catch my serious mistakes was because I went to ID
the frequency and nothing happened. Rather than assume anything, I double
checked the approach plate and instantly realized that I had pushed the button
twice, thereby erroneously putting the good frequency into the backup position.
Same thing with the autopilot: as soon as it was time to intercept the
localizer, I checked what the HSI was doing versus the published course
heading: lo and behold I was still on HDG mode and had not properly armed the
autopilot for a coupled approach. So sticking to a routine and rigid adherence
to those practices ultimately enabled me to push away some of the task
saturation which was quickly getting me into potentially big trouble.