I only have a couple of equipment failure stories.
Our club had a Cessna 150, and the last pilot who flew it said the engine was a little rough. One of our mechanics looked it over, couldn’t find a problem. It was run up and all seemed fine. But since it was near its 100 hour inspection, I was asked to ferry it over to the city center airport for a full inspection. It was only a 15 minite flight or so.
I took off, and all seemed fine. I got over the city, and BANG! somethjng happened to the engine, and the RPM dropped to about 1700. It was shaking pretty good. I started looking for somewhere to put the thing down in the city while I called the tower and told them I had an engine problem. They cleared me straight in and asked if I wanted to declare an emergency.
A quick look at the runway and my slow descent told me I’d make it unless the engine quit completely, but it seemed stable. So I told them no, and landed without incident. It turned out the engine had blown a cylinder.
The other time wasn’t as eventful. We were flying a Maule M5 through the mountains, and on landing the tailwheel blew. Luckily, my friend with 10,000 hours was flying, and she danced all over those rudder pedals and managed to keep us from ground-looping. It was exciting, though…
Our little Grumman never so much as coughed over 9 years, but the fuel gauges in those things are useless. They are actual graduated sight tubes - tubes on the cockpit sides that have a little red ball in them, and they are connected to the tank and the fuel causes the little balls to rise and fall. So theoretically they should be perfectly accurate.
The problem was that if the plane wasn’t sitting perfectly level they’d show one tank high amd one low. And in flight the damned things bounced around so much that you could rarely read them accurately. So most Grumman AA1 pilots would essentially ignore them and either install a fuel totalizer or just do the math and calculate how much fuel they had.
And here’s a story about that which shows how accidents happen. Usually it’s not a single mistakes, but a series of mistakes. In my case, I had been flying the plane, and my wife (who is also a pilot) was bringing a friend out to take him flying. So I parked the plane on the ramp near the tanks without refueling, not knowing how big her passenger was and how much fuel they would want.
So, my wife showed up, saw the airplane sitting on the ramp by the tanks, and assumed I had fueled it. She did her walkaround and took her friend flying. I had been out doing some club stuff at that point, and when I got back was told that she had already shown up and was gone flying.
I thought she’d just take her friend up for some circuits, but she went somewhere out in the practice area. After about an hour and a half I suddenly had a thought - did she fuel the plane? I ran out to the tanks and checked, and there was no record of refueling. So now I was getting worried. I’d flown a couple of hours off, but some of it had been touch-and-goes, which can use more fuel.
So, I was going to go radio the tower and ask them to call her back, when I heard the plane coming in. She landed uneventfully, not aware that anything was wrong. I ran to the plane and looked at those stupid sight tubes - and both of them were sitting on bare metal.
End of story: The plane holds 22.5 gallons, and I swear I pumped 23 gallons into it. My wife landed that plane on fumes. If she had stayed out even five more minutes it might have been a very unhappy situation.
The chain of mistakes:
- the airplane having nearly unusable fuel gauges by design
- me breaking the normal pattern of always fueling up after landing.
- my wife not checking the sight tubes, because they are generally inaccurate.
- My wife not checking the fuel logs to see if I had filled it, but assuming I did because ‘I always do’.
After that, we always gave that plane a little pat on the spinner before and after flying it, because it brought her home when by all rights it didn’t have to.