BK1 Sun-N-Fun 2006 – Duh-De-Duh Part Duex
Somewhere in an endless string of mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm thought there was one little duh, you know, just enough to wake one up from an “Hours of boredom” stupor. Sometimes, without thinking, I swallow, get a slight pressure change behind the eardrums, and get startled by the resulting change in the way the engine “appears” to sound. Lifting one ear cup and listening to the un-muffled sound of the engine is the usual cure. Flying over “automatic rough” territory will find me lifting the ear cup so often that one might seriously worry about having a nervous twitch. A quick scan of the engine instruments, a duty that had not been done for way too long, found all the needles welded in their usual positions. With a minute or so of nothing is wrong, just hearing things, and stop being a chicken pilot self convincing, my nerves were finally all settled down. Duh! “The engine said again”. Didn’t make that one up, got a misfire. About 20 seconds later got a double duh-duh. Had time to look at the map and see that Bay Minnett was then next airport along the way about 40 miles ahead, but on the other side of some of the swampiest swamp along the route. Did not have to make a decision though, after a couple more duh-de-duhs, the misfire took over and I was flying the ½ VW BK1 full time.
The feeling of deceleration is worse than the vibration, so the first thing was to look around for a place to put it if the engine just quits. First bit of good luck were large freshly plowed fields below. Started a circle around two especially good looking ones, at about 1000 ft AGL you got to consider what’s close first. Should I just land it? The opportunity is right below. As rough as it was running, we still didn’t seem to be losing altitude very fast so the thought of trying the “Nearest Airport” feature of the GPS came to mind. Trying to remember which button to push, looked at the GPS ato find it shaking so much on my ingenious rubber mounted sub-panel that nothing was readable. Grabbed it with my throttle hand and held it still enough to find the button. It would have been a better idea to have practiced finding the button before needing it for real. Rule #1 is fly the plane, but that can be challenging in situations like this, so went back to work and continued the approach to field below, but held my altitude card to be played later. Grabbed the GPS on the bottom and activated the “Nearest Airport” function, I hope. In a few seconds the tracking arrow was pointing right and the distance indicated 12.5 miles. Now its decision time for a sick engine, make the approach to a large field right below, make the airport, deal, or no deal. One more look at the freshly plowed furrows aligned crosswind brought an image of the BK1 landing gear dug in and bent, or worse, on its back, no deal, we are going to keep flying.
Turned and blindly followed the GPS’s arrow while watching the altimeter closely for any signs of altitude loss. Digging into the luck bag again, the engine began to go back and forth from 2 to 3 cylinder mode and to my relief the altitude was slowly increasing. Seems to take about 5 minutes for each tenth mile to tick off on the GPS and as it approached about 3 miles I still could not see anything that even remotely looked like and airport, it was all a sea of green. Headed toward an airport like patch on the ground that was lined up into the gusty south wind, but there were wire fences across it. Now the GPS is down to 1.3 miles and there is still is nothing that looks like an airport in site, you know a runway or grass strip with the telltale wear marks airplanes make. Then I saw a Cessna parked in a pretty green pasture, and began to see the bare outline of the mowed area that must be the runway. Flew over and looked for a wind sock, then turned downwind for an approach to land west. The wind was 90 degrees across from the south and gusting 20-25 mph so either end would do. Slipping down on the turn to final saw that landing to the west would be over a line of trees to a downhill runway. The other end was unobstructed so, gaining confidence in my 2-3 cylinder engine, decided to switch ends and land uphill. Tried to force myself to slow down, but my left hand was not cooperating. With a little help from the new canopy, we floated about half way down the runway before touching down. Stomped on the brakes, and coasted to a stop with about 500 feet left. We passed in front of the little bit of hangar hurricane Katrina left behind with a V tail Bonanza sitting mostly outside though inside of it. A man sitting in a lawn chair in front of the hangar watched me roll by and walked toward us as we turned around and taxied up with a real sick sounding, shaking engine. Feeling so very relieved to be on the ground safe and undamaged, could only come up with something real lame, “Sorry to drop in on you like this, got a little problem with the engine.” “I could hear that from a long way off,” He said, “What do you need?” Forced down not sure exactly where and in less than 30 seconds and already have a new friend ready to help. My luck bag overfloweth with blessings, this time his name is Tony Williams.
My first question was, “Where am I?” “This is Skywest, I built this airport myself, bladed it down, got about 2500 ft.” “You did a good job, its real smooth” then I said, “Need a spark plug wrench.” He asked me, “Which size?” How’s that for an answer that dreams are made of? “It takes a 13/16” for this VW.” Within 5 minutes of touchdown the plugs are out and they all look like they were put in there just before we left on this trip, because, they were. Put on the wires, set them on the heads, turned the switch on, and pulled it through. With a Comp-U-Fire you don’t need to look for the spark. Since it’s a lost spark system, you get a pop-pop-pop-pop for each blade pulled. But this time we got pop-duh-pop-duh, looks like the rear plugs are dead. Took the wires off the rear plugs, set the caps close to the heads, pulled a blade, and watched the spark jump about an inch out of the caps. No problem with the ignition unit. If a plug just shorted out, the one on the opposite end of the coil would spark. My semi-educated guess is that when one plug develops a high resistance “open” condition it kills both plugs on that coil. Those following the BK1 adventures will remember that this happened before on the first takeoff after the 50 hr inspection, not fun, but at least this was at my home airport with endless farms below. As a result of the experience, took out plugs that had been running happily for 80 hours and put in new ones for the trip. One personal observation about new parts, how many times have you heard, “But, its a new battery, why did it die so fast?” If a new part lasts beyond its infancy, it usually makes it to the end of its normal service life, but, if defective, it dies quickly, like in about 5 hours with this plug. New rule, don’t start off on a trip with new but untested parts, break them in first. Next new rule, get a motorcycle plug wrench and carry spare plugs. At least it can fly with a dead plug.
Thanks to Tony, didn’t need any spares, he generously offered to take me about 12 miles into Mobile to get new plugs. He also took me to a hamburger spot to get some dinner and would not let me put any gas in his truck either. On the way he told me about his classic Bonanza and the how much difficulty he was having with its repair, and that was just with the insurance company. Got back to Skywest just as it was getting dark, but had to try the plugs and be sure my plane was OK. A quick test got the sweet sound of the pop-pop-pop-pop. Plugs in, it started as usual on the second blade, and there was no doubt it was now running smoothly on all 4 cylinders. Had it tied to a tractor mower, so after it warmed up made a short full power run. No problems, it was ready to fly again. Was offered a trip back into town to a hotel, but was determined to make this trip cheap as possible. Ask if I could stay in the back room of the hangar on the concrete floor and under a remaining part of the roof. Figured that whatever Katrina didn’t knock down was sturdy enough for me. Tony put a bulb in the overhead fixture for light and I found a plug to recharge my cell phone, luxury accommodations for sure. Even my cold hamburger and fries tasted great. The spirit of the pioneers came over me as I decided to sleep under the stars tonight. About half way through blowing up the air mattress (pioneers had those, didn’t they) the local mosquito squadron started their coordinated attack. It is unbelievable how fast one can put a tent up in a situation like this. Once safe inside, got comfortable and drifted off. Woke up on the concrete a couple of hours later on a flat air mattress, had to blow it up 2-3 more times before the night was done. Didn’t mind because it seemed to be in sync with nature’s call. Walking by the Bonanza in the moonlight, looking at the stars, smelling the clean air, and hearing deafening silence so far out in the country was a memorable experience. This is the fun part, about as far away from the daily grind as one can possibly get.
Thank, Bruce King