14
TO SHUT DOWN OR NOT TO SHUT DOWN? PART 1
In Flight USA Celebrating 38 Years Senior Care Authority, Peninsula will provide you the guidance concerning your loved one, including finding the best places to live, receiving the proper care, and navigating through a complex health care system.
Senior Living and Care Solutions
• Free consultations • Available 7 days a week • Serving South San Francisco to Palo Alto
May 2022
For more information contact Annamarie Buonocore at 650/504-8549 abuonocore@seniorcareauthority.com s
The author in front of the Cessna 404 Titan used as a corporate shuttle in the Upper Midwest. (Courtesy Matt Odenbrett)
E
By Matt Odenbrett
U JKH L + U D R 6 U QH H * UH 6 RDU
rik and I were cruising along in the Cessna 404 Titan at 6,000 feet on a very dark, cold February morning above the frozen northern prairie. We had departed home base about ten minutes prior and I had checked in with Minneapolis Center to get our IFR clearance to our destination. Once there, we would board our passengers and commence our daily shuttle service for a local manufacturer. It was extremely cold that morning. Our outside air temperature gauge had read -35 degrees Fahrenheit on our 5 a.m. takeoff, and we had left contrails behind us on the runway. I know because I was sitting in the right seat that morning and glanced behind the right-wing trailing edge during our takeoff roll and spotted them. The Janitrol heater was still working hard to warm up the cabin of the Titan, but at least we were not seeing our breath anymore. Despite flying through a clear sky with a bright moon and no clouds to speak of, we had little to look at other than the stars and a few lights on the ground wherever there were farms. The landscape was familiar to us on this Milk Run, so Erik focused on his flight instruments while he hand-flew us through the dark, moonlit morning. After Erik had set cruise power there really wasn’t much for me to do, other than stay alert for any radio calls from Center. Since we were the only airplane on the frequency at 5 a.m., I did not have a heavy workload in the cockpit. I was lazily watching the ground lights pass under us and not really paying attention
to our flight when Erik awakened me from my reverie, “Oil pressure is dropping on the left engine.” Say what? I focused my eyes back inside the cockpit and looked at the engine gauges staring me in the face. Sure enough, the left engine oil pressure had left its usual position at the mid-point of the gauge and was slowly descending. This was very annoying. We had a brand-new Continental GTSIO-520 engine on the left nacelle, which only had been installed less than ten flight hours before. What the heck? I stared a few seconds longer in disbelief before my troubleshooting instincts kicked in. I said, “Can you see any oil on the nacelle?” Erik shined his flashlight out his window onto the nacelle, “Negative.” “Then where the heck is the oil going?” “I dunno.” I checked the oil temperature gauge. If we really were losing oil, then the oil temperature should be climbing sharply. It had risen, but only slightly. Why? The outside air temperature gauge still read -30 degrees Fahrenheit. Was that masking the problem? Now that we knew we had a problem; it was time to take action. Erik throttled back the left engine by several inches of mercury to see if the oil pressure would stabilize. No effect. By now we were nearly halfway to our destination, and we were both uneasy about continuing on. I asked Erik, “Do you think the oil pressure gauge might be faulty? We can’t see an oil leak and the engine is running Continued on Page 16
