MAYDAY in the Everglades

Hi Marty

I read your post earlier today at work but was too busy to respond.
Now I have time.
When I read your report I was very suprised to read that all of your
preliminary steps - after discovering the problem, did not even consider
carb ice. I believe that carb ice is exactly what you had.

In my part of the world the procedure for those symptoms is -
Best Glide
Find landing area
Carb Heat
Briefing
Cause check
Radio
Act accordingly

HTH

Tony


In article ,
"Marty from Sunny Florida" wrote:

Hello everyone.



The end of my story is this; We landed safely in the middle of the Florida
Everglades and didn't get a single Alligator bite. Here's what happened;



On Friday, April 29th, we took our Cessna 152 from Lantana, Florida to the
center of the State for gas and start our trek south to Key West. The total
journey is a little over 2 hours.



Forty five minutes after filling with gas in Pahokee, we were just below
Alligator Alley (highway 75). Our engine hiccupped. A few minutes later, it
hiccupped again, this time losing a couple of hundred RPM. We were at 6,800
feet, strait and level flight running at 75% power (about 2350 RPM). The
mixture had been leaned back about 30 minutes earlier, and none of the
engine instruments had changed from the time we made our cruise altitude.



As the hiccups got closer together engine power dropped off significantly,
grabbing our total attention. My first move was pulling up on the yoke to
maintain altitude. I trimmed to our plane's best glide of 60 kts When the
sputtering became a constant rough drone, the engine still held some power,
and we could see nothing but marsh. I though about the choice between
ditching in green or brown muck, not sure where the biggest alligators live.
There was absolutely no solid ground as far as the eye could see. Solemnly,
I rolled the 'standby' frequency to 121.5 acknowledging the severity of our
predicament.

Acting on the premise that the engine could quit at any moment and our best
option was behind us on highway I75, I started a very gentle 180 degree
turn.



Oil pressure was in the green. Oil temp was in the green. Mags were on BOTH.
The fuel showed close to full (I had at least 18 gallons useable). My only
immediate change was to push the mixture to full rich, which had no effect.
When I touched the throttle to add power, the RPM dropped. Gently, I
returned the throttle and the power evened out.



The sky was clear, and when I got my pre-flight briefing, the temp was 26
and dew point 16. It was unseasonably cool and very dry for Florida. At
altitude, I knew the air had almost no moisture, but on the way up, we did
have a typical hazy layer. My next move was carb heat, even though there was
absolutely no visible moisture. It did smooth out the roughness slightly,
but did nothing for the power loss.



The engine was dying, and the math was simple. Sink at 500 fpt, 6,800 feet
gives me about 13 minutes and at 60 kts, I'd get about 15 statute miles. I
knew I could make the highway without an engine.



I've personally had experience looking for downed aircraft in the Florida
swamp, and know how difficult it is to spot a small plane. We needed to let
someone know our position and situation. We had the skill to find the
closest airport but every moment was precious. ATC could save valuable
minutes and that might make the difference. With this in mind, I hit the
radio's flip-flop button and announced our tail number on the emergency
frequency.



The Controller was a true professional. He asked me a few questions and
instructed me to "ident" before assigning a squawk code. The radio reception
was not clear, which generated a stream of "say agains". This, of course
added to the general stress of the situation.



Efficiently, he ascertained our position and vectored me to the Dade-Collier
airport, which is in the middle of nowhere. Ironically, so were we! The
strip was 17 miles to our southwest, which is farther than a dead engine
would take me. We had been heading due north to a safe landing point on I75
when ATC advised us to turn our backs on the hwy and return south. In my
heart, we turned away from solid ground to face only swamp again. I decided
to trust fate and the ATC controller as I asked the alligators to gift me
the extra minutes of engine power needed to make the airport.



Trimmed back to slow flight, we managed to barely maintain altitude. We
arrived at the 10,500 foot runway with 3,200 feet of altitude and 120 kts of
air speed. I figure I could have made 4 complete turns around the pattern
and still land hot. I have never been so relieved in my entire life.



On the ground, we taxied to an area near two other planes. Relieved and
curious I did a runup and the engine gave a text book performance.



Our cell phones didn't work so we called the FBO on the radio. We were
invited into the small building nearby where there was a phone. There we
learned that the other two planes had landed the day before with similar
symptoms.



I phoned my mechanic and relayed the story. He gave me some great advice and
a definite suggestion about what caused the problem. We returned to the
plane to follow my mechanics instructions.



Another mechanic, who had come to pick up one of the other downed planes
kindly offered to look at my engine. He pulled the cowl open, checked the
cables on the throttle, carb heat and mixture. He sat in the 152 with me
while I did a regular and then full-power run up. The engine showed great
response to throttle, the mixture choked it and the carb heat performed as
advertised.



This qualified mechanic was planning to fly out in a plane that landed in
the same condition as ours. They offered us a ride if we were not
comfortable flying our 152. We had options. Now, we had to make a decision
to take the ride or hop in our plane and head out.



The logic was: someone at some point would fly our 152 out, and we would
again need to fly this same plane at some point ourselves. If we waited,
what would be different? A qualified mechanic not only said it was safe, but
was flying out a plane in the same condition. We decided the problem had
resolved itself. We would fly.



After a lengthy check, we headed for the runway. I did a steep climb over
the field, continued uphill after completing a long, slow circuit of the
airport, and headed north with a 500 FPM climb. All the while, I knew I
could glide back to the runway if needed.



It was late to start our day in the Keys so we turned towards home. When We
sighted I75, I knew I was home free. If there was trouble we were guaranteed
a level spot to land. We made Lantana at full power with no sign of the
earlier problem.



I must say, I am impressed with the FAA system and the people who dedicate
their careers to the safety of our skies. This system that trains and relies
on the good judgment of the individual pilot also supports the decisions
necessary in crisis. While part of the mandate of the FAA is to enforce the
laws, a pilot's decisions are respected even when they are examined. I find
great comfort in the FAA and the service it provides to general aviation.



If our highways resembled our skies, perhaps the average driver would be
less likely to knowingly break the law.



Here's my question to this group. What caused the engine failure? More than
one thought is welcome, but please explain your answer. I have one of two
possibilities in my head, and invite any questions, advise, opinions, or
wisdom.



Warm regards from one very happy pilot.



Marty




--

Tony Roberts
PP-ASEL
VFR OTT
Night
Cessna 172H C-GICE

On Wed, 04 May 2005 06:01:22 GMT, tony roberts
wrote:

Hi Marty

I read your post earlier today at work but was too busy to respond.
Now I have time.
When I read your report I was very suprised to read that all of your
preliminary steps - after discovering the problem, did not even consider
carb ice. I believe that carb ice is exactly what you had.

In my part of the world the procedure for those symptoms is -
Best Glide
Find landing area
Carb Heat
Briefing
Cause check
Radio
Act accordingly

HTH

Tony

I think that everyone here is pretty much in agreement that carb ice
is suspect numero uno here. But there is something that I teach my
students to do is immediately pull the carb heat (and leave it on)
while you are setting up for best glide and looking for a suitable
landing site. It takes a tenth of a second to reach and pull that
knob. The longer you wait to do this, the cooler the engine is
getting and carb heat becomes less effective. Then after you have
obtained best glide and you are heading for your landing site, then go
through the troubleshooting and preparing for an emergency landing.

Scott D

To email remove spamcatcher's

Yep, that was exactly my thinking. If the a/c were all from the same
field or stopped the same place for fuel, contamination would be a
suspect... otherwise carb ice. Great lesson for those that have never
experienced it.

George Patterson wrote:
Carb ice. The only two things that I can think of that can cause those
symptoms in several aircraft at the same time are ice and fuel
contamination. Fuel contamination doesn't go away after you land,

Did you check the fuel after you fueled at Pahokee?


Trip

In article , says...

Hello everyone.



The end of my story is this; We landed safely in the middle of the Florida
Everglades and didn't get a single Alligator bite. Here's what happened;



On Friday, April 29th, we took our Cessna 152 from Lantana, Florida to the
center of the State for gas and start our trek south to Key West. The total
journey is a little over 2 hours.



Forty five minutes after filling with gas in Pahokee, we were just below
Alligator Alley (highway 75). Our engine hiccupped. A few minutes later, it
hiccupped again, this time losing a couple of hundred RPM. We were at 6,800
feet, strait and level flight running at 75% power (about 2350 RPM). The
mixture had been leaned back about 30 minutes earlier, and none of the
engine instruments had changed from the time we made our cruise altitude.



As the hiccups got closer together engine power dropped off significantly,
grabbing our total attention. My first move was pulling up on the yoke to
maintain altitude. I trimmed to our plane's best glide of 60 kts When the
sputtering became a constant rough drone, the engine still held some power,
and we could see nothing but marsh. I though about the choice between
ditching in green or brown muck, not sure where the biggest alligators live.
There was absolutely no solid ground as far as the eye could see. Solemnly,
I rolled the 'standby' frequency to 121.5 acknowledging the severity of our
predicament.

Acting on the premise that the engine could quit at any moment and our best
option was behind us on highway I75, I started a very gentle 180 degree
turn.



Oil pressure was in the green. Oil temp was in the green. Mags were on BOTH.
The fuel showed close to full (I had at least 18 gallons useable). My only
immediate change was to push the mixture to full rich, which had no effect.
When I touched the throttle to add power, the RPM dropped. Gently, I
returned the throttle and the power evened out.



The sky was clear, and when I got my pre-flight briefing, the temp was 26
and dew point 16. It was unseasonably cool and very dry for Florida. At
altitude, I knew the air had almost no moisture, but on the way up, we did
have a typical hazy layer. My next move was carb heat, even though there was
absolutely no visible moisture. It did smooth out the roughness slightly,
but did nothing for the power loss.



The engine was dying, and the math was simple. Sink at 500 fpt, 6,800 feet
gives me about 13 minutes and at 60 kts, I'd get about 15 statute miles. I
knew I could make the highway without an engine.



I've personally had experience looking for downed aircraft in the Florida
swamp, and know how difficult it is to spot a small plane. We needed to let
someone know our position and situation. We had the skill to find the
closest airport but every moment was precious. ATC could save valuable
minutes and that might make the difference. With this in mind, I hit the
radio's flip-flop button and announced our tail number on the emergency
frequency.



The Controller was a true professional. He asked me a few questions and
instructed me to "ident" before assigning a squawk code. The radio reception
was not clear, which generated a stream of "say agains". This, of course
added to the general stress of the situation.



Efficiently, he ascertained our position and vectored me to the Dade-Collier
airport, which is in the middle of nowhere. Ironically, so were we! The
strip was 17 miles to our southwest, which is farther than a dead engine
would take me. We had been heading due north to a safe landing point on I75
when ATC advised us to turn our backs on the hwy and return south. In my
heart, we turned away from solid ground to face only swamp again. I decided
to trust fate and the ATC controller as I asked the alligators to gift me
the extra minutes of engine power needed to make the airport.



Trimmed back to slow flight, we managed to barely maintain altitude. We
arrived at the 10,500 foot runway with 3,200 feet of altitude and 120 kts of
air speed. I figure I could have made 4 complete turns around the pattern
and still land hot. I have never been so relieved in my entire life.



On the ground, we taxied to an area near two other planes. Relieved and
curious I did a runup and the engine gave a text book performance.



Our cell phones didn't work so we called the FBO on the radio. We were
invited into the small building nearby where there was a phone. There we
learned that the other two planes had landed the day before with similar
symptoms.



I phoned my mechanic and relayed the story. He gave me some great advice and
a definite suggestion about what caused the problem. We returned to the
plane to follow my mechanics instructions.



Another mechanic, who had come to pick up one of the other downed planes
kindly offered to look at my engine. He pulled the cowl open, checked the
cables on the throttle, carb heat and mixture. He sat in the 152 with me
while I did a regular and then full-power run up. The engine showed great
response to throttle, the mixture choked it and the carb heat performed as
advertised.



This qualified mechanic was planning to fly out in a plane that landed in
the same condition as ours. They offered us a ride if we were not
comfortable flying our 152. We had options. Now, we had to make a decision
to take the ride or hop in our plane and head out.



The logic was: someone at some point would fly our 152 out, and we would
again need to fly this same plane at some point ourselves. If we waited,
what would be different? A qualified mechanic not only said it was safe, but
was flying out a plane in the same condition. We decided the problem had
resolved itself. We would fly.



After a lengthy check, we headed for the runway. I did a steep climb over
the field, continued uphill after completing a long, slow circuit of the
airport, and headed north with a 500 FPM climb. All the while, I knew I
could glide back to the runway if needed.



It was late to start our day in the Keys so we turned towards home. When We
sighted I75, I knew I was home free. If there was trouble we were guaranteed
a level spot to land. We made Lantana at full power with no sign of the
earlier problem.



I must say, I am impressed with the FAA system and the people who dedicate
their careers to the safety of our skies. This system that trains and relies
on the good judgment of the individual pilot also supports the decisions
necessary in crisis. While part of the mandate of the FAA is to enforce the
laws, a pilot's decisions are respected even when they are examined. I find
great comfort in the FAA and the service it provides to general aviation.



If our highways resembled our skies, perhaps the average driver would be
less likely to knowingly break the law.



Here's my question to this group. What caused the engine failure? More than
one thought is welcome, but please explain your answer. I have one of two
possibilities in my head, and invite any questions, advise, opinions, or
wisdom.



Warm regards from one very happy pilot.



Marty

On 5/3/2005 14:58, Marty from Sunny Florida wrote:

Hello everyone.



[ snip ]



As the hiccups got closer together engine power dropped off significantly,
grabbing our total attention. My first move was pulling up on the yoke to
maintain altitude. I trimmed to our plane's best glide of 60 kts When the
sputtering became a constant rough drone, the engine still held some power,
and we could see nothing but marsh. I though about the choice between
ditching in green or brown muck, not sure where the biggest alligators live.
There was absolutely no solid ground as far as the eye could see. Solemnly,
I rolled the 'standby' frequency to 121.5 acknowledging the severity of our
predicament.


First of all, I'm very happy that you were able to land safely. Since
everyone else has dealt with the carb ice issue, I would like to ask
about your position over the glades. Granted I don't have a lot of
experience yet, but I've been taught (sternly) not to allow the
airplane to get anywhere that it can't make a safe landing in the
event of a power failure.

From your description, it sounds like a total power failure would have
left you with a marsh ditching and alligators.

I realize there are some cases that you just can't account for, but
it seems like there should have been a route that would not have been
quite so perilous.

It is not my intention to lecture (nor have I any desire to do so), but
am wondering if this experience will change your mind about the routes
you take in future flights.

Whether or not carb ice was the issue, you still kept your cool
and went through a very straight-forward thought process to determine
the cause of the problem and maintain the safety of your flight. Very
nice job and story!

--
Mark Hansen, PP-ASEL, Instrument Student
Sacramento, CA

Mark Hansen wrote:


I realize there are some cases that you just can't account for, but
it seems like there should have been a route that would not have been
quite so perilous.

You can go through the Miami class B. Good luck getting cleared through there in
a VFR 150. You can go over the top of Miami class B (long way to climb in a 150,
but possible). You can go east of the class B over the ocean, or you can go west
of the class B over the swamp.

Marty from Sunny Florida wrote:

The sky was clear, and when I got my pre-flight briefing, the temp was 26
and dew point 16. It was unseasonably cool and very dry for Florida. At
altitude, I knew the air had almost no moisture, but on the way up, we did
have a typical hazy layer.

Temp 26 and dewpoint 16 puts you well outside the icing region on this chart:

http://www.ez.org/carb_ice.htm

The temperature at altitude was probably well below 26, but even so you seem to
be pretty well outside the temperature / dewpoint danger zone.

Nevertheless, I agree with the consensus that carb ice is the best explanation.

I'm mystified that the chart doesn't confirm.

Dave

On 5/4/2005 08:20, Dave Butler wrote:

Marty from Sunny Florida wrote:

The sky was clear, and when I got my pre-flight briefing, the temp was 26
and dew point 16. It was unseasonably cool and very dry for Florida. At
altitude, I knew the air had almost no moisture, but on the way up, we did
have a typical hazy layer.

Temp 26 and dewpoint 16 puts you well outside the icing region on this chart:

http://www.ez.org/carb_ice.htm

I assumed the temperatures provided by the original poster were in
centigrade. That puts the temp at 79 deg F and the dew point at 61 deg F.

Assuming 2 deg C drop per thousand feet, that puts the temperature
at 57 deg F and the dew point at 35 deg F. Very close to the blue
"Icing at glide and cruise power" band.


The temperature at altitude was probably well below 26, but even so you seem to
be pretty well outside the temperature / dewpoint danger zone.

Nevertheless, I agree with the consensus that carb ice is the best explanation.

I'm mystified that the chart doesn't confirm.

Dave


--
Mark Hansen, PP-ASEL, Instrument Student
Sacramento, CA

On 5/4/2005 08:13, Dave Butler wrote:

Mark Hansen wrote:


I realize there are some cases that you just can't account for, but
it seems like there should have been a route that would not have been
quite so perilous.

You can go through the Miami class B. Good luck getting cleared through there in
a VFR 150. You can go over the top of Miami class B (long way to climb in a 150,
but possible). You can go east of the class B over the ocean, or you can go west
of the class B over the swamp.

Are you suggesting that it is reasonable to fly in such a case simply because
it's difficult (or impossible) to find a safer route?

I guess everyone will have their own personal safety margins, but if
I was unable to come up with a way to safely make the flight, I would
not fly. Perhaps this is simply due to my lack of experience.

--
Mark Hansen, PP-ASEL, Instrument Student
Sacramento, CA

I"m not sure I agree with you regarding carb ice. While it may not have
been your problem, I've had carb ice in the J-3 that resulted in more
than just a drop in RPM, the engine was doing next to nothing. Each
time I've gotten carb ice it has been with not visible moisture. I
think the visible moisture thing is just an old wive's tale. There is
no need for visible moisture to get carb ice.

Does the C-152 have a fuel filter? In my Mooney I have a couple screens
but no "filter" per say. I guess the difference is that the screens (in
theory) are for larger stuff and not as likely to clog.