If you fly long enough, you will experience a problem in flight.
Maybe you’ll hit a bird. Maybe your wings will ice up. Maybe you’ll get distracted in your pre-landing check and forget to lower the gear. Fuel lines get vapor lock. Gunk clogs the fuel injector. A bug or moisture fills the static port. Stuff happens.
Each kind of problem makes itself known if you know how to watch for the clues — and take them seriously.
My husband, Maury L. Fisher, MD, and I were flying a Cessna 210 from Bartow, Florida, to Asheville, North Carolina, on Friday, Aug. 31, 2018, when the engine revealed a clue. Though we both have our licenses, I had fallen out of currency and was relegated to the copilot’s seat.
Handsome was PIC. At 10,000’ the engine analyzer started acting wonky. That’s my technical term for when the cylinder head temperature reading disappeared on cylinder one.
In the past, a cylinder reading disappeared because a sensor probe came loose and backed out.
This time, Handsome mentioned it and stated that since we were cruising at 184 knots, we couldn’t have lost the cylinder’s power. All other gauges of power and temperature and fuel flow remained steady and within the normal range on our 200-hour IO-550-L Lycoming engine.
So we agreed to watch the gauges, continue the flight, and have it checked when we returned home. The Jacksonville air traffic controller cleared us to climb to 12,000′ to get above clouds.
At 11,000’ the engine shook hard, and the happy engine hum turned into a galloping sound. Instead of showing six green columns, our engine analyzer showed three.
We were over the Okefenokee Swamp, 684 square miles of alligator and snake-infested wetland that spreads across the Florida-Georgia border. The name Okefenokee is a Native American word meaning trembling earth. I wanted to land on solid ground, like a runway or a road.
The autopilot struggled to maintain altitude. We lost horsepower. Handsome notified the Jacksonville controller that the engine was running rough. (The engine sounded like a horse trying to kick its way out.) He asked for the nearest airport. The controller offered Lake City at 28 miles behind us or another airport 30 miles ahead. Handsome asked for Lake City’s identifier.
I took a quick inventory of emergency supplies. We had no water, a few snacks, two 9mm handguns, and a handheld radio.
My wicked memory flashed to May 1996 when ValueJet Flight 592 crashed in the swamp near Miami with 110 people on board. It sank, and parts of it were finally located a month later. Handsome’s seaplane rating gave me some comfort.
My hand shook as I entered KLCQ into the Apollo CNX80 autopilot as our new destination. Our autopilot is synched to a Garmin MX200 with traffic. I was about to press ENTER to activate the new destination when Handsome reached over and started the process over.
He was in his zone, focused on what to do, so he hadn’t noticed the new reading. His hand wasn’t shaking.
The controller recited the heading to Lake City and the number of degrees to turn left on course. My body temperature rose while I calculated the rate of descent needed to reach Lake City if the last three cylinders stopped firing. We were descending 200 feet per minute on half power. Without power, we’d be forced to land in a roadless section of trembling earth.
The engine seemed to be holding together. It wasn’t spewing oil or smoke. Handsome maintained a calm demeanor. Decades of working in the emergency room and in surgery taught him to school his emotions. He also has 1,500 more flying hours than his copilot.
I sent up a quick prayer and remembered that I’d once landed safely after a cylinder blew. I was grateful this was not a solo flight, or my turn to fly. I imagine I would have done exactly as he did during the engine problem, but in truth, I’d have sweat-soaked the upholstery in the process like a nuclear hot flash.
The controller spoke in calming tones as he gave the tower frequency for Lake City Airport and the weather conditions there. He named the runways and reported that Lake City cleared us for any runway.
Then he asked, “How many souls on board and how much fuel?”
There’s something about hearing an air traffic controller ask that question that ratchets up the stress factor. By the time the words are spoken you already know there’s a problem. But still.
Handsome answered while I took a calming breath. At 3,000’ we broke out from the clouds and saw the airport. Ten miles to go. Handsome said he wouldn’t drop the gear until he had the airport made. By “made” he meant glide in with a dead engine.
On short final, he dropped the gear and pulled back the power. The engine’s syncopated rhythm sounded more pronounced. We landed and taxied to the end of runway 010, past the Lake City Fire Department’s tank-like yellow crash truck. We sputtered down the taxiway and passed a red firetruck to the parking area. The linemen directed us to a spot isolated from other aircraft.
There’s a moment in the movie Armageddon after men jump a rover over a canyon on an asteroid and crash land. Actor Michael Clarke Duncan, covered in sweat in the back seat, says, “Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Jesus.” That. That’s how I felt.
We climbed out. The firemen, three police officers, two linemen, Handsome and I breathed a collective sigh. Bo, Byron, and Larry in the tower probably sighed, too. Thanks, guys!
Airport Lineman Crew Leader Ed Bunnell said, “Welcome to Lake City.” He secured chocks under the nose wheel. “What can we do for you?”
I wanted a hug. Handsome asked for a mechanic. While they arranged for a mechanic, I planned an emergency kit for future flights.
We often fly over the Appalachian Mountains. It’s embarrassing how complacent we had become about these routine flights. Next time, we’ll bring bottled water, flashlights, granola bars, maybe a flare gun, a reflective blanket, a first-aid kit, a sweat towel, and a 45-caliber handgun. The Okefenokee has gators, and snakes, and black bears. Oh, my.
No water in southern US? But you had guns. Good planning.
Your engine did not quit or you did not have to shut down. Your little bird flew to a safe landing. Above all, your Handsome handled situation well. Panic tears apart the fabric of situational awareness. He did well. The bottom line; you both were lucky !!
Happy landings.
My wife used to call me handsome…..
Good story with a good outcome. Survival gear is what you wear with your vest. Camping gear is what your survival bag contains in the baggage compartment. There are some cases where you might only have what you are wearing when you exit the airplane.
This is a real deal emergency situation where, if no contact with anyone was possible, a 406 ELT with GPS positioning should be activated via the panel switch. Early alerting is the first step to a successful survival event in a challenging environment. An old, 121.5 ELT can put you in a distinct disadvantage for a life saving, timely rescue. Having a portable PLB is a good thing. Hopefully, you will be able to actuate it after a successful off airport landing. In that case, a Spot or similar device might be a better option.
Regardless, I think the writing is on the wall for the US to mandate a fixed 406 ELT. They’re only $500 these days, and worth every penny.
Thanks for sharing your experiences. Airplanes are not like the modern car that can survive with spotty maintenance.
Anyone with 5,000+ hours can give a harrowing experience, often many. Fortunately the experiences are only aggravating not life threatening.
Keep experiencing and writing.
Great story and congrats on your happy ending.
Looking forward to hearing what caused the engine issue.
Give God The Glory Amen ?
God absolutely kept half the engine going for us to reach Lake City.
Great story! Sounds like Maury is one hell of a pilot. Can’t wait to read what the diagnosis was [see what I did there?]
Just a thought: When you are packing your .45, if snakes are your issue, put a rat-shot bullet as the first bullet in the magazine. Maybe the first two. The rest can be hollow points. After that; shelter, a PLB and water are your priorities.
(There’s a moment in the movie Armageddon after men jump a rover over a canyon on an asteroid and crash land. Actor Michael Clarke Duncan, covered in sweat in the back seat, says, “Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Jesus.” That. That’s how I felt.)
Actually, he said “Thank you Jesus…..Thank You Lord…..Thank you,Thank you,Thank you,…….”
Article is spot on though.
*Banging head on desk*
Yes, it was a CONTINENTAL engine. (We had a Lycoming engine in our previous plane.) My next article tells how the mechanics discovered the cause of the engine failure and their advice on how to avoid another such failure.
Can’t wait for the follow up! Great article well written and entertaining!
Thanks!
When is the preventive article being published?
The 210 generally runs the 520 and I would have thought the 550 was a better engine. I’ve seen the maintenance records of the Barrons and Bonanzas that flew checks and the remains of engines that made it home when I worked for a check hauling outfit..
Great story. Thank you for sharing.
Handsome sounds like quite the guy! So glad you’re both OK. All the best in 2019…
Thanks, Becky! Yes, Handsome is a keeper.
Add another reader that is curious about what ultimately caused 3 cylinders to fail. I fly in the Pacific Northwest and although we don’t have swamps, we do have vast stretches of dense forest and I do carry a small survival kit when I fly. It’s a small weight penalty that improves your chances of survival if you make it through the emergency return to earth. As another reader indicated, a small satellite emergency transmitter is a good item to include in that kit. I fly with the “Spot” plb and it allows me to send texts to my wife when I arrive at backcountry airports for solo camping trips.
Good read BUT … where’s the punch line. What happened to the engine? Inquiring pilots want to know.
Joni: congratulations to both for a successful conclusion to your problem. Last year, while ferrying a Stinson from the BC Okanagan to Grande Prairie AB, I had a little bout of what was probably carb icing. It was quickly cleared, but nothing grabs your attention like that first slight change in engine sound!
You noted that “Though we both have our licenses, I had fallen out of currency and was relegated to the copilot’s seat.”
Could you have occupied the left seat as “pilot flying” (PF) and your husband occupying the other seat as “pilot not flying” (PNF) and PIC? (On the premise that the PIC can occupy either seat)
The reason I ask is that a similar situation arose in my area and that was the solution… Of course, you and the individual here could not log the time (the PIC would), but you could fly the aircraft..
Again, well done!
Actually, if you have a pilot’s license, are rated for the airplane and are the sole manipulator of the controls, you can log PIC time with the other pilot being the actual PIC. Airline First Officers do it all the time if typed in the airplane.
Lycoming engine? Surely a Continental if a 550?
I was hoping it was a Continenal, too.
Flying many XC hours coast to coast, border to border including Canada, Okefenokee Swamp, and Alaska.
Always flying an aircraft that belongs to someone else.
I carry a 12 once plastic bag that will get through Airport
Security. Within this small bag are two whistles, poncho,
two emergency space blankets, Air Force style signal mirror, Ibuprofen, bandaids, compass and a small roll of surgical tape. Also at a six pac of water and plenty of snacks.
Shouldn’t a fire starter be part of the survival pack?
How about adding a PLB to your shopping list?
Good story and good ending ! Nice job. Thanks for the tips on the pistols. Important to think about.
Who’s Handsome?
Joni’s husband Maury.
Suggest pet names be left out if you want the article taken seriously.
Ok Scrooge… it’s not an technical treatise. It’s a human interest story made all the more human by her writing style.
You must be lots of fun at parties and hamburger runs. Or do you not believe that flying can be fun?
Geez….
I was wondering how long it would be before gbigs would share his “words of wisdom’ with all of us ignorant aviators.
No name calling (e.g. Scrooge) necessary.
I happen to agree that using a pet name (with no intro/ties) is a bit too “cute” for an article being used for a possible life-saving education.
Congrats on the safe landing. I’ve flown into Waycross a few times, and the nearby O swamp is large!
Thanks for sharing your story. Please keep adding the color details into your stories, like MD. Everything I read doesn’t need to be a terse engineering/NTSB report…
Neat story. Thanks for writing it.
So, what was the engine problem?
Good story and I’m happy that it had a happy ending. Question, why is it important that we all know that Maury is an MD?
She’s proud of his accomplishments, maybe?
if you may go down, it’s good to have a doctor on board, and yes, doctors are use to high stress situations…..
Please re-read the story and work on your comprehension. She was explaining how he could remain calm under pressure. If you don’t like her well-written story you should feel free to just move on, but don’t try to pick it apart.
I have great comprehension, Peter. Why don’t you move on. The question wasn’t addressed to you.
Many professionals remain calm under pressure. Should I provide a list to you or are you capable of figuring that out on your own?