The day’s planned activities were much like many late-summer weekend days. My youngest son and I were going to fly 40 miles from our home to my office with a grass strip to show him the Christen Eagle that the company just acquired. I make this trip from home to the office many times a week in a 1962 Cessna 182. The previous owner had updated it with new avionics, including a Garmin 480 with WAAS, 340 audio panel, 327 transponder, MX20 MFD, and a fuel totalizer. Flying this well-equipped airplane almost daily on the short flight to the office had become routine, like most people would view their daily commute in their car.
Arriving at the airport for this day’s flight the weather was clear and calm. After the preflight I taxied over to the fuel pumps. The fuel totalizer showed 13 gallons of fuel on board and the fuel gauges agreed, showing just under a quarter tank in each wing. I put 12 gallons in each wing and put up the hose and grounding wire as my son stored the ladder. I adjusted the fuel totalizer to reflect the now 37 gallons I had on board. The fuel gauges agreed, showing just more than a half tank in each wing.
The expected burn for this airplane at my normal power setting for low-altitude flight is about 13 gallons per hour. With little wind at 2,000 feet, the trip usually takes between 20 and 25 minutes, so I expected to land with just more than 30 gallons still in the tanks.
The flight was pretty much as expected. Just short of landing I noticed the fuel gauges were reading much lower than the 30-plus gallons I should still have on board. I checked the fuel totalizer and it was showing about 31 gallons. I wanted to believe the fuel totalizer; after all, I had only been in the air 20 minutes or so. I entered the pattern and landed.
The day was filled with flying the Eagle. We enjoyed some great food on the grill with some co-workers and friends. All the while, the 182 waited to take us home.
The sun was getting low in the sky as we finished getting everything cleaned up. By the time we got back to the 182 we had time for a quick preflight before we lost the light we needed to get out of the grass strip safely. Taxing out, the fuel gauges once again troubled me. We were showing only about a quarter tank in each wing when we should have been showing nearly half. Even a quarter tank is enough for the short flight home and the fuel totalizer was still showing 30 gallons, so I departed just as the sun dipped below the horizon.
About a third of the way home we overflew the municipal airport and I again looked at the gauges, which were now nearly at empty. That just can’t be, I thought, the fuel totalizer shows 27 gallons and that is a new piece of equipment; the fuel gauges are nearly 60 years old. We were both tired and my son was eager to get home, so I opted to believe the fuel totalizer and continued toward home.
About three miles past the municipal airport I came to my senses and turned around. By now it was dark and the thought of running out of fuel at night was more than I was prepared to risk. I was sure it was just faulty gauges and I would find I had plenty of fuel, but I needed to check. I taxied up to the fuel island, took the flashlight out, and got the ladder. Two steps up the ladder, I stopped in shock. The fuel cap was not on the left wing tank, and both tanks were nearly dry. The realization that I would not have made it home and I could have caused harm to my son hit me hard. I keep a car in the hangar that we have at the airport, so I put the airplane in the hangar and drove home.
Looking back, I was three links into the chain of an accident that needed only four links to happen. The first link was when my son put away the ladder after fueling; I always do that myself and check the caps then. The second link is a little harder to let myself off the hook for. I should have investigated upon landing why there was a fuel discrepancy. The third link was staying too long and not giving myself enough time to get out before nightfall. Doing a substandard preflight is something I will never do again. If I had not broken the chain and turned around to check the fuel, the result could have had consequences beyond what I even want to think about.
An airplane is not an automobile, even if you use it like one. Whether you fly every day or only occasionally, you need to be thorough with your preflight and do not ignore or dismiss anything out of the ordinary. I’ve known pilots who have run out of fuel and said I could never be one of them—but, oh, how close I came.
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