MMPR to MMMX
It was a little risky, but totally doable. It involved a flight over high mountains in a non pressurized aircraft. The weather seemed pretty calm between the two points with only a few scattered clouds and light winds. The Piper Seneca was a good plane in very good condition and well maintained. C74 is a very reputable company that puts out aircraft with a flawless record. I had just a few passengers and minimal luggage. Weight would not be a problem.
I had a young co-pilot with me that I knew really well. He and I always hooked up when I traveled down here. We’d seen a lot of “crazy nights” while partying together and were always one step ahead of trouble. We’d put many hours in together and we made a great team. He certainly knew protocol and would come in handy if anything serious came to pass.
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Anyway, we loaded up in Puerto Vallarta, (where I’m currently overseeing some airport construction). I looked forward to the break from the mundane task of pointing my finger and going over the blueprints over and over. The co and I shared a few jokes as the passengers embarked and the luggage was loaded. His candor, zest for life and all of its excitements, always took me back to those “good old days” when, I too, was ten feet tall and bullet proof.
So we jumped in and settled in for what we knew would be a long flight to Benito Juarez International in Mexico City. We loaded the stack, did the checks, and taxied out on clearance. The co welcomed the passengers and comforted them and did his usual job of developing a rapid and useful rapport.
The takeoff was uneventful, very clean, as I pitched the nose over to course. I didn’t engage the autopilot but engaged the director just to be ready. We had a lot of climbing to do in a short period of time and I didn’t want to inadvertently lose my velocity. Mountains and aircraft don’t get along very well at low speed. My co went over maps and charts and worked his calculator figuring fuel usage while I watched the horizon and gauges. I turned on my “sixth sense” and focused to feel any abnormal vibrations or hear any strange sounds. Everything seemed pretty normal.
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We finally reached altitude and we both chewed on a stick of “Beemans” to help our ears adjust. I engaged the auto pilot while the co checked on the passengers and found that they had all found their own gum and were resting comfortably.
I guess we were about thirty minutes into the flight when I looked down to see the oil temperature gauge pegging into the red. I leaned forward and looked more carefully and my heart picked up a few beats when verified what I saw. I asked the co if he noticed it. The co leaned over to take a closer look and I could see his eyes widen.
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I asked him to come up with a plan while I thought about the “situation.”
He immediately pulled out the maps, charts, manuals, and calculator and got to work.
I looked out at the engines to see if we were trailing anything or smoking and was relieved to see nothing. I looked at all the other gauges to see if there were any corresponding problems that would validate the reading from the gauge in question. Again, there was nothing. All we had was an oil temperature gauge that was reading, undeniably, in the red.
I looked over at my partner and I could see the perspiration on his forehead as he looked up at me and said,
“Okay, our nearest airport is Hidalgo and we can reach it in about ten minutes if we drop altitude and swing through this valley. We declare an in-flight emergency, ask them to respond crash trucks, and have medical services standing by.”
God, I loved this guy’s efficiency. I had not yet turned off the auto pilot and went through the scenario laid out by my best buddy, in my mind. I looked at the gauge again. I could tell my co was getting real nervous while he waited for me to begin his plan.
It just didn’t make sense. There should have been something else to see or hear or feel. High oil temperature means less viscosity which means less resistance which means higher RPM. And yet, there were no other indications of a problem.
My co finally had enough and raised his voice as he said,
“We’ve got to declare an emergency and get down!”
He was absolutely right. It would be the prudent thing to do. It was the best chance for survival if all else went south.
I said, “Just a second.”, as I reached down and lightly tapped on the gauge.
Immediately, the gauge dropped down into the green zone.
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The co pilot looked at me in disbelief and I could see him starting to breathe again.
I explained to him, “Sometimes, when you take these birds up high into more risky airspace, the gauges can get a little squirrely from the change in temperature and altitude. But usually when a gauge reads, “bad”, there is something else that will correspond with it that verifies the reading. You’ve just got to tap on it and give it a chance to give you a better reading. No doubt, your plan would have got us down and everyone would be okay and we probably would be carried off on shoulders and regarded as heroes. But we wouldn’t have made our destination or learned a thing. Then, undoubtedly, the incident will eventually repeat itself. Never panic and always let cool prevail…”
- To MMMX.jpg (72.53 KiB) Viewed 6616 times
The passengers remained oblivious to the front seat drama, and the flight continued without incident the rest of the way. The co pilot even took a long nap, being exhausted from the momentary flurry of critical thinking. I think he’s a real good kid. He’s got incredible potential. I feel real safe with him.
And me, I just relaxed and went through the scenario a few times in my head to try to glean anything else that might be learned from the experience. My only conclusion was that I’m just getting too old for this…