After you go through the checklist, you're still not finished assessing the airplane. You should maintain constant vigilance — I realized this the hard way on a beautiful fall day in the Pacific Northwest.
The forecast called for clear and 75 degrees, with winds aloft from the south at 13 knots. I left Vancouver, Washington, at 6:45 a.m. for an appointment in Grants Pass, Oregon. As I started the Cessna Cardinal 177B, it turned over more sluggishly than usual, which I blamed on the cold weather. I finished the checklist and taxied to Runway 8 for takeoff. Small pockets of fog filled in the valleys between the hills and revealed themselves as the sun rose. As I enjoyed the view, I called flight service to open my VFR flight plan and then switched to Portland Departure to request VFR traffic advisories. The flight down was great.
After my appointment, I climbed back into the bird, and it wouldn't start. I blamed it on the fact that the engine was still warm, and I wasn't proficient in performing hot starts. Not thinking about or connecting the morning's hard start to my current troubles, I commented that the battery was grumbling. So I got the mechanic at the FBO to give me a jump-start. That worked, and I left for Vancouver. I climbed through 5,000 feet and contacted Seattle Center for advisories.
As I was over Roseburg, Oregon, I noticed that the autopilot was slowly turning the aircraft to the right, away from the heading I had set. I disengaged it and turned back to the planned heading. I then noticed the horizontal situation indicator (HSI), which is coupled to the area navigation unit (RNAV), was turning slowly to the west even though I was flying straight according to my magnetic compass. I turned off the RNAV to keep the confusion down.
Seattle had just handed me over to Cascade Approach in Eugene, Oregon, as I tried to figure out what was going on with my instruments. I thought that perhaps I had left my cell phone on, but no, it wasn't that. Cascade asked why I was deviating from my altitude. I looked, and I was level at 8,500 feet, my airspeed was constant, and the vertical speed indicator (VSI) read zero. When I responded, the controller said they had lost radar contact with me. I was about 15 miles from Eugene. I radioed back that I was having some electrical problems, but they never heard me. They kept calling for me, but I couldn't respond.
I was at 8,500 feet over Class D airspace with no electrical system! I set my transponder to 7600 in hopes that it would work. No success there. I scanned the instruments and noticed that they were not working either. All the gauges were shut down and the alternator was discharging. This would be a good time to have a portable radio, I thought.
The only way I had to contact anyone now was with my cell phone. I dropped to 3,000 feet and called flight service. I told them my circumstances, and they said they would call Cascade Approach and let them know my situation as well as any intended airport I chose to divert to. I said I'd call them back with a plan.
I was a new pilot with about 40 hours in the Cardinal. I felt that I was forgetting something, so I used the cell phone to call a friend who was also the most proficient pilot I know. He walked me through an electrical failure checklist. Even though I didn't know why the alternator breaker had popped, I noticed that the radio would come on if I held the breaker in. I thanked my friend and told him I would call back.
I radioed Cascade and told them the engine was OK, the magnetic compass was working, and I had a backup GPS, so I felt comfortable flying to Hillsboro, Oregon, where I knew a mechanic. They said that they would notify others along my route. I was told to call the tower over the cell phone when I was five minutes out. When I did, the tower told me to approach Runway 30 straight in and call again when I was five miles out.
I looked at my cell phone, thinking about how glad I was to have it, when I noticed the low-battery indicator was flashing. I thought about that handheld radio again. At the five-mile point, I called the tower, and they cleared me to land.
As I approached the strip, I noticed the green light from the tower, and I smiled. I never thought that I would have to use light signals. Rolling onto the taxiway, I received another green light — I was cleared to taxi. I called the tower and thanked them as well as flight service. Then I taxied the airplane to the maintenance hangar.
I realize now that I should have put two and two together. All the magazines write about the ongoing mental checklist that we should develop, scanning instruments and gauges during a flight. I completely failed to do that. Had I done that, I would have noticed that the alternator was not charging the battery — it was, in fact, discharging.
I now have a handheld transceiver that I ordered as soon as I got home. It serves as a constant reminder that even though I've gone through the checklist, I'm never through checking the aircraft.
Theodore Orr, AOPA 1400652, is a private pilot with 350 hours. He's a small-business owner and has flown his Cessna 177B Cardinal more than 270 hours since he purchased it in September 1999.
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