My own ILAFFT
Electrical Failure at Night
Have you have ever picked up a copy of Flying Magazine and gleamed through it’s glossy pages? If so, you have undoubtedly come across my favorite part of the magazine. A column titled
I also like the Barry Ross illustrations. In another lifetime, I might have possibly
It was a nice fall evening in Southeast Virginia, where I worked as an A&P mechanic for a small, but busy, flight school. I was slowly building time toward my Instrument cross country requirements. The sun had started to fall behind the horizon, but the sky was clear and a slight breeze swept through the airfield. I walked up to the dispatch desk to check on the availability of an aircraft. To my surprise, no one was scheduled to fly my favorite Cessna 172.
I swiftly put away my tools, clocked out, and grabbed my flight bag from the truck. I returned to the dispatch desk, checked out the aircraft dispatch log and keys. I completed the pre-flight inspection of the aircraft with no discrepancies and feeling good about the flight
The first half of the flight was perfectly normal, I landed at Dinwiddie County airport (KPTB) in Petersburg, Virginia. The small FBO building was closed. I shut down the engine and got out to walk around a bit and stretch out my legs. After 15 minutes or so, I decided to head back home.
I climbed back into the Cessna and started the engine. I noticed that the start was a little slower than normal, but nothing that struck me directly as odd. I taxied out and performed a run-up and took off into the night sky.
Soon after departing the traffic pattern, I noticed the panel lights being dimmer than usual. I reached over to the instrument lights control and turned the brightness all the way up. Nothing happened! I looked up into the cockpit ceiling and noticed the red light that illuminates the instruments was barely lit.
At this point in the flight, several thoughts were crossing my mind. I knew at that moment I was losing electrical power. First, I reached over and grabbed my headlamp from my flight bag and turned it on. I then looked over all the engine instruments and everything was indicating normal. I then glanced at the Ammeter and saw that it was showing a discharge.
That was my mistake on the run-up. This particular aircraft has an ammeter that bounces around a bit. So the vibration of the run-up and the normal bouncing of the needle did not grab my attention as it should have.
I was not scared at all, just a bit concerned. I was still flying the airplane as trained, The engine was running strong, I could see the instruments, So I decided to continue the flight home. That is when the GNS 430 started to blink and kept powering on and off. When the splash screen would show on the screen it would then shut down and the start the process over again. The second com/nav started to blink and the lights were barely visible. I then shut of the master switch to save what little electrical power I still had.
Racing through my mind where all the pro’s and Con’s of continuing the flight. Then the deciding factor came to me. How would I turn on the field lights? I was not sure if the battery had enough juice to power up the com radio or transmit. Chesapeake Regional Airport (KCPK) sits at the edge of the Great Dismal Swamp. Believe me when I tell you, it sits in a black hole of nothingness at night. Without the airfield lights on, I was unsure I could make a safe approach and landing.
I looked behind my shoulder and I could still see the approach lights on at Dinwiddie county. I decided right then and there that I was going to turn around head back. I was only about eight miles away, so I made the turn and landed back at Dinwiddie.
I entered the traffic pattern and made a good landing, just as the airfield lights turned off. I thought to myself, that was some good luck! As I taxied the aircraft to the FBO, that if you remember was closed for the evening. I parked into a tie-down spot.
Being a mechanic, I was troubleshooting the problem in my head, what could possibly be the cause. The first thing that came to mind was that the alternator belt broke or the alternator had just out right failed. Either way, I knew when I shut down the engine, that was it for the night. Seeing no other alternative. I pulled the mixture out and secured the mags and master.
I get out of the airplane with my flashlight and poke around in the cowling and at the alternator itself. The belt had not broken and it still had appropriate tension. I kept looking around and that is when I noticed the stud on the alternator that connects the alternator to the battery had snapped off.
This was the cause of all my problems. However, I was safe on the ground and the airplane was not damaged beyond the broken alternator, so all was good in the world, I thought to myself. I called up my co-worker and he came to pick me up. There was a series of storms rolling in, so I knew that my favorite airplane would be stuck at Dinwiddie for at least a day or two.
Fast forward, 3 days. After the rounds of storms blew over. We flew back to Dinwiddie with tools and a new alternator. The FBO was open when we arrived. We had arranged to have her put in a hanger for her extended stay there. We got her started after a charge of the battery and a new alternator and flew her back home.
As with any ILAFFT. There is usually a moral to the story or a lesson learned. Mine is to be prepared for the unexpected. Failures will almost always occur at the worst possible time. Things I did right: I was prepared, for the most part. I always fly at night with a headlamp and extra batteries, I flew the airplane, and I did not panic. I will soon be purchasing a handheld comm radio to stow in my flight bag in case this ever happens again.
