We had begun the short trip with full tanks and had burned only about one-fourth of our capacity when we noticed that each fuel gauge indicated much less than it should. There is no way, I thought, that we could have consumed so much fuel in such a relatively short time.
Was fuel being siphoned from the tanks because of loose or missing caps? Not likely, I thought, but I still looked out and inspected the trailing edges of both wings to see if fuel was flowing overboard. Nope. Not a drop. I suspected a problem with the fuel gauges but decided to begin climbing in case we really were losing fuel. It was not long before both fuel gauges indicated empty, although the engine thankfully continued to run smoothly. I then reduced power to a more economical setting and double-checked the GPS to confirm that we were heading directly home, which also happened to be the nearest airport. At that point, the Garmin 530 went blank, followed soon by the number two transceiver. It quickly dawned on me to check the ammeter, which indicated a substantial discharge. Uh, oh. It looked as though the alternator had failed. The transponder was still operating, so I quickly changed the squawk from 1200 to 7600, to indicate a loss of communications. Some minutes later, the transponder failed, and the battery died just as we were about to enter Camarillo’s Class D airspace. I continued toward the airport hoping that the controllers there had noticed our 7600 squawk.
Our entry into the pattern was complicated by a temporary flight restriction close to the far side of the airport because of an airshow at nearby Point Mugu Naval Air Station. This necessitated some tight turning so as not to infringe on the TFR. We soon received a steady green light, landed on Runway 26, and received another green light clearing us to taxi.
One would think that an emergency as relatively simple as an alternator failure during daylight VFR conditions would not teach valuable lessons, but it did. (Such an event at night or in IFR conditions obviously would have created much more anxiety.)
I had always thought that an alternator failure would leave me with a fully charged battery that would provide time to turn off unnecessary electrical appliances and at least begin to communicate with ATC. But this is what happens only when you detect the failure soon after it occurs. The lesson here is that systems instrumentation needs to be scanned frequently, especially the ammeter. I confess to not having been doing that, probably the result of complacency. I mean, how often do alternators fail? This was my first.
Accelerating battery discharge was my policy to enhance the see-and-avoid concept by operating with the landing lights on when flying below 10,000 feet, especially in high-density airspace and within 10 miles of an airport. Had I recognized the alternator failure sooner, turning off those lights, and others, would have extended battery life.
Neither I nor my friend had brought a handheld transceiver on this flight, but I did have my cellphone. Trouble is, I did not know the telephone number of the control tower at Camarillo, which really would have come in handy. This gave me an idea, and that is to store in my cellphone contacts the telephone number for the Los Angeles Air Route Traffic Control Center, for example. Unlike many towers, it is open 24 hours a day and could be used to relay communications to any other ATC facility in the country—such as a control tower. Although telephone numbers for control towers are not published in the chart supplement (formerly called the airport/facility directory), numbers for all centers are listed.
I cannot recall how many years—or decades—it has been since I had read in the Emergency Procedures section of the Cardinal’s pilot’s operating handbook that “as system voltage deteriorates [due to an alternator failure], all of the readings in the engine instrument cluster [which includes the fuel gauges] will drop proportionately.” If I had remembered this, I would not have wasted so many watts troubleshooting a nonexistent fuel problem, and the battery would have lasted a lot longer.
I do have a feeble excuse, however. Because I fly a significant number of different aircraft types, it is difficult to remember the system nuances and differences of each.
This is why I think that, everything else being equal, those who fly only one type of aircraft might be safer than those who fly many.