Aircraft Maintenance Advice

A few weeks back, an aircraft maintenance technician friend of mine, we’ll call him Able, told me a short “dramatized” story about some fellow aviators and their “less than perfect” airplane conundrum. It seems they couldn’t decide if an airplane was broken or not.

After a normal start-up, the attitude indicator in their 1980’s Cessna 172 trainer failed to erect and the vacuum guage needle didn’t move off of it’s zero peg. Not sure how to proceed, the aspiring airline pilot in the right seat, who held an Instructor Certificate and had 300 hours of experience, told the 10 hour student in the left seat that they should probably shut down and make a phone call.

The first call was to the owner, to ask his advice. Upon hearing the nature of the indications, the owner inquired what the weather conditions were. Easy Day VFR was the response from the right seater. The owner then proclaimed the problem was a vacuum pump failure and said to go ahead with the flight because the attitude indicator wasn’t required for a day VFR flight anyway. The owner also said they should let maintenance know, so the airplane could get fixed.

The second call was made to Able. The pilots described the malfunction and asked him to fix it. Able, being on the other side of town, said he’d be out to fix it in an hour or so. The pilots said not to hurry, they wouldn’t be back for at least two hours. Able casually asked where they were going, and he was quite surprised to hear they were going flying in that same airplane. Able then responded that he must have misheard them. Is the airplane broken or not? Yes, the pilots replied. It’s broken, but we don’t need that instrument for Day VFR, and we don’t want to miss our flight. And the owner said it was OK. Able decided to play along for a minute in order to impart a lesson.

Able asked the right seater, “Was the owner able to definitively diagnose the the cause of the attitude indicator failing to erect and the vacuum gauge reading zero?”

The right seater said, “He said it was the vacuum pump.”

Able responded, “Really, how did he know that? Did he come look at it?”

“No he didn’t look at it, but he owns the airplane. He probably knows,” the right seater replied.

Able then said, “Let me get this straight. Writing a check with a lot of zeros instantly makes a person the authority on airworthiness? Opra and Celine Dion own aircraft. Do you think they’re avionics experts, too?”

“Well, maybe not.”

Able then asked, “What would an FAA inspector think about you flying an airplane that has a known, unmitigated defect?”

“I doubt they would see it the same way.”

“So, mister pilot-in-command,” suggested Able, “you’re willing to bet your pilot certificate based on the untrained opinion of a person who won’t even be in the airplane with you when you crash?”

“I did spend a lot of time and money to get my pilot certificates…”

“Right.” Able said. “Are you still going flying?”

“I guess I’ll reschedule the flight.”

The moral of this story is pretty simple. Common sense says you need to know enough about the systems in your aircraft that you can recognize when something is wrong. Then, when you find a problem, you can ask a person who holds the appropriate qualifications to evaluate the problem before the next flight. If it requires a repair or some other action, they will handle it, and you (or your estate) will be off the hook for explaining why you intentionally went flying in a broken airplane.

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