It might not just be cosmetic.
My helicopter’s annual inspection was started yesterday. My old Robinson mechanic from Prescott came down with a knowledgeable assistant to do the job in my Wickenburg hangar.
Just for fun, I set up my old Canon G5 camera on a tripod with my Pclix timer and created a time-lapse movie of the job. The shots were taken 30 seconds apart and then compiled into a movie at 6 frames per second. Here’s the resulting movie:
Kind of fun, huh?
For those who aren’t familiar with the inspection requirements for aircraft in the U.S., here’s a quick summary:
- Every year, the aircraft is required to have an annual inspection. This inspection requires an A&P mechanic to remove various panels and inspect parts normally hidden from view. It also includes an oil change, various filter changes, and a bunch of other stuff. It’s a calendar-based inspection.
- Commercially operated aircraft are also required to have 100-hour inspections. These are virtually the same as annual inspections — in fact, its common for aircraft owners to substitute an annual inspection for a 100-hour inspection if it doesn’t appear that they will fly another 100 hours before the annual inspection is due. My helicopters have always been operated commercially, so I’ve always gotten these inspections.
- Other time-based inspections or maintenance. These are things like oil changes (every 25 or 50 hours), magneto inspections/rebuilds (every 300 hours), gearbox oil changes, belt changes, avionics tests, etc.
The cost of an inspection or maintenance item varies depending on the age and condition of the aircraft, the type of inspection, and the mechanic’s knowledge and ability to get the job done quickly but thoroughly. The cost of an inspection can also rise considerably if the mechanic actually finds something that needs attention.
If you read about my trip to the Parker 425 this year, you may recall a certain incident involving an unbuckled seatbelt. I thought the problem was simply cosmetic — a job for a paint shop. But my mechanic believes it might be beyond just cosmetic. He thinks a few of the tiny dents may have compromised the integrity of the fuel tank behind those dents.
Keep in mind that I’ve flown the helicopter at least 6 hours since the event. No fuel leaks, no indication of a problem. The fuel tanks are nearly full right now — and have been full three times since then. No leaks.
But that doesn’t mean the dinged tank might not develop a crack or a leak. At least that’s what I’ve been told.
A new one from the factory will cost $3,700. Plus paint. Plus installation.
Take my advice: be a pilot but not an owner.
The course stretches about 30 miles across the open desert east of Parker, zig-zagging on existing dirt roads, including more than a few power line roads. The land out there is mostly old sand dunes like those shown in this photo. (This photo was taken from about 800 feet AGL; the dots are bushes about 3-5 feet tall.) The land here is remote and mostly barren. A bold pilot could fly 50 feet AGL without fear of hitting anything. Except, of course, the power lines.
Track locations are identified by mile number. There are no visible markers, though — that would make it too easy. Instead, if you’re lucky you have a copy of the course map and have secured it to something so you can consult it in flight. Remember, at least one door is off, so the wind is whipping around the cabin and loose paper is not an option. Although you could put all the mile markers in your GPS, that would make quite a mess. So I just have about 10 points in my GPS and I can use them to home in on the point I need to get to.
One of the videographers (A) claimed he weighed 260 lbs. I added 10 pounds, as I usually do, for clothes and equipment. I then calculated my weight and balance several ways, hoping he’d choose a back seat location with his 190-lb still photography companion beside him. Earth to video professionals: If you want to do aerial photography from a helicopter, slim down. If you want OGE hovers and aggressive maneuvers, your pilot will need all the performance he can get.
Only one of the videographers (B) had ever worn a harness before. I’d brought mine along and he was very happy to have it. He climbed right in and hooked up. I had to assist the other two with the harness. Tragically, C did not fasten the seatbelt behind him before sitting down and the buckle slipped out of the open door during flight. Dangling there in the slipstream, it did serious damage to the paint on the left side of the helicopter. I can’t imagine how he didn’t see or hear the metal buckle banging, but, as I said earlier, he wasn’t entirely there.
Chase mode. In chase mode, you pair up with the vehicle, putting the photographer(s) in position to shoot. That often means dropping down to 50-100 feet over the desert floor. It almost always means matching the speed of the vehicle you’re chasing. On straight, smooth stretches of road — like one of the power line roads — the vehicle could be going over 100 miles per hour. On roads cutting through lava beds or through canyons or zig-zagging around high tension power line towers, the vehicle could be moving at just 30 miles per hour. The pilot’s job is to keep on the target, always watching out for obstacles and other aircraft, listening to the instructions of the photographer: higher, lower, faster, slower, right, left. It’s tricky when you don’t have brakes or 0-to-60-in-5-seconds acceleration capabilities. I prefer having the photographer sit behind me so I can see the action as well as he can, but that’s not always possible. With two photographers on the left side of the aircraft, I usually can’t see the vehicle — although I can often hear the sound of its engine and passing horn — through my noise canceling headsets and over the sound of the helicopter! — if I’m properly lined up with it. When the photographer has enough footage shot alongside the vehicle, he sometimes asks me to position myself for what I call photo mode.