Fan mail from a year ago: "The first thing you should do is sell your aircraft because it is very obvious that you cannot afford to own an aircraft...People like yourself don't mind paying $50 an hour to have your car worked on where the mechanic has no responsibility other than to have to fix your car if you bring it back...I suggest that you eat a large piece of humble pie and apologize to your IA for slandering his hard- earned reputation...The kind of mean spirited, condescending tone, and inflammatory language that you used to convey your opinions in the article never ceases to amaze me."
This and other similar happy mail was prompted by "The Inquisition," an account of my first annual inspection as an airplane owner. As the title of that column suggested, the inspection went badly.
Hard to believe, but it has been 12 months and 234 flight hours since that first Skyhawk annual. It was a memorable experience — the inspection resulted in a squawk sheet some 70 items long, 51 of which made it onto the official discrepancy list and had to be corrected.
The list included things like cracked cooling baffle brackets, a main tire tube with too many patches, seat rail pin holes out of spec, worn carburetor throttle body shaft (prognosis: replace the carb), leaky fuel quantity sender gasket, unapproved mixture control cable, nosewheel shimmy damper with too much shimmy, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. More than a week after the first inspection plates were removed, the airplane was returned to airworthy flight status. All it took to set things straight was a prodigious amount of work and cash. The bill was $4,100.
I was dumbfounded, confused, frustrated, and angry. It didn't seem possible that a Cessna 172, arguably the simplest modern general aviation airplane flying, could require that much remedial care, especially since it flew just fine right up until the inspection. I vented some of my frustration on the shop for what I felt were several failings that came under the general heading of poor communication with the customer. Later, in a more reflective mood, I saw that I was guilty of the same sin plus some others, such as relying on a cursory pre-purchase inspection, and wearing rose colored glasses when preparing for the annual inspection.
Truth is, the relationship between three principal parties in aviation — airplane owner, shop, and mechanic — is a delicate and, I suspect in most cases, a flawed one. Each party is interested in making sure the airplane is safe, but what exactly constitutes safe? Is it correcting every squawk no matter how minor? Is it taking care of the obvious safety of flight problems and letting the rest go to avoid major expense? Or does the truth lie somewhere between the two extremes?
The expectations of each party involved in an annual inspection are bound to be somewhat different, which is reason enough for everyone to sit down beforehand and have a chat.
Last year I wrote about the annual while still flushed with frustration. I was rewarded with a sack of letters, most of them calling for my head to be impaled on the blunt end of a Snap-On socket wrench. Mechanics and mechanics' friends wrongly accused me of having total disregard for the safety of my airplane, the integrity of those who work on it, and the regulations they must abide by.
Howard Whyte of Douglassville, Pennsylvania, offered a turbocharged defense of mechanics and inspectors: "In case you didn't know it, every time your IA puts his pen to paper he bites off a large chunk of liability risk. Oh, sure, technically his signature is good only for that day and time, but should you decide to spread your sorry butt all over someone's backyard before the next annual is completed, the FAA is going to try to find out if just maybe he missed something. And your estate is going to come after him and accuse him of all kinds of negligence. Still want him to cut you some slack? About the only thing he should cut is your certificate."
Like Whyte, Gerard Blake, who instructs at Frederick (Maryland) Community College's aviation maintenance school, stuck up for the people who performed the inspection and work on my airplane. "Instead of playing the blame game, let's give some well-deserved credit to those professional aircraft maintenance technicians whose probing eyes and hard, cold tools contribute to a great deal of flying safety," he wrote, adding with pinpoint logic, "The last time I looked at accident statistics, improper maintenance was very low on the scale of contributing factors."
Blake later put some teeth behind his thoughts by organizing an FAA accident prevention seminar at which he talked about annual inspections — what's the difference between maintenance and inspections; what does an annual consist of; the dynamics between airplane owner and mechanic; and how owners can reduce the cost of their next annual. (Hint: Operate your airplane with respect and care, and practice preventive maintenance.)
Other writers acknowledged that a gulf of understanding separates airplane owners and their mechanics. We may disagree about who is responsible for the problem, but it remains that what we have here is a failure to communicate.
Walt Ellis, an experienced mechanic from Blackwood, New Jersey, correctly noted that "owners, pilots, mechanics, inspectors, and maintenance facilities all need to work together. This industry has enough problems from outside pressures. We don't need to add any ourselves." Ellis included in his letter a form he uses to get the paperwork started on a required airplane inspection or even a prepurchase inspection. It amounts to a check list covering all the required documents — registration, airworthiness certificate, FCC radio station license, flight manual, weight and balance forms, equipment list, compass correction card, a list of applicable airworthiness directives, required placards, data plate, and 337 Forms. Ellis also notes the date of required ELT battery replacement, pitot-static check, and transponder check, and records aircraft weights, spark plug condition, static rpm, and cylinder compression.
An even better approach is for the airplane owner to take part in the inspection. I tried that last year but wasn't very successful. For one thing, I wasn't able to break completely free from other duties to devote my full time and attention to the annual. For another, the repair work generated by the inspection took far longer than anyone thought going in.
This year was different. I was able to participate in the annual from beginning to end. It started with me removing the cowling so that the inspector/mechanic, Bill DeHaven, could start in on a compression check. Then while I started laying bare the interior and opening all the inspection ports, Bill retired to a desk to check the logbooks. The bill from last year's inspection has a charge for nine hours of paperwork, which I take to mean deciphering the logbooks and 337 Forms and checking them against applicable ADs, service bulletins, and other official documents. Thanks to that groundwork, DeHaven was able to complete his review quickly, without uncovering a problem.
The rest of the inspection also went quickly and smoothly. In fact, the engine and airframe inspections were done by the end of Day One, leaving only the landing gear to inspect and service. The next day I got my hands good and dirty cleaning and repacking wheel bearings. We put a new main wheel tire on, Bill replaced the vacuum pump filters and ELT battery, and then it was time to close things up and make it look like an airplane again.
I asked for a couple of extras on top of the basic inspection: check the control surface rigging to try and eliminate the left-yawing tendency, and balance the prop. DeHaven did both, and now the airplane flies straight and smooth.
Inspection number two was a great experience, well worth the two- and-a-half-day investment of time. Of course, it helps that it was a virtually squawk-free annual. For that I must credit the thoroughness and quality of the remedial work done a year ago.
In the year since the first inspection, I've had to replace the vacuum pump, starter, and two landing lights. Other than 50-hour oil changes, that's been the extent of the repair work.
Today I know a lot more about my airplane, and I have greater empathy for those who maintain and repair it. I know the airplane is in great shape mechanically, and I'm looking forward to a second year of mostly trouble-free flying.