Grounded by the Light

How the failure of a $42.50 part can result in $3,000 in lost revenue.

It was Friday morning and, for a change, I was running early. I had to pick up a passenger in Scottsdale for a day trip to the Grand Canyon. It would be my first Phoenix-area charter for the 2008/2009 winter season. I was due at Scottsdale Airport, about 40 air minutes away, at 9 AM; it was 7:40 AM.

The helicopter was on a west end helipad at Wickenburg Municipal Airport (E25). I started the engine, engaged the clutch, and brought the engine up to 55% RPM while the clutch belts grabbed at the upper sheave, turned the drive shaft, and began spinning the rotor blades. I started unfolding my Phoenix sectional chart to jot down the frequencies for the airports I’d be flying near or to.

That’s when I noticed that the Governor light was on. I looked at the governor switch on the end of the collective. The governor was turned on. But the illuminated light said it was turned off.

I toggled the switch. No change.

I pulled the circuit breaker, waited a moment, and then pushed it back in. No change.

Damn.

I disengaged the clutch, let the rotor RPM wind down for the prerequisite 30 seconds, and pulled fuel mixture to shut down the engine.

About the R44 Governor

For those of you who don’t know what a helicopter governor is, here’s the short explanation.

When you fly a helicopter, you pull the collective lever up to increase the pitch of all rotor blades and climb. As you increase pitch, drag on the blades also increases. To keep the blades spinning at full RPM, you need to increase the throttle. The same is true, but in reverse, when you lower the collective to decrease pitch.

In the old days, the pilot had to coordinate the increase or decrease of collective with the increase or decrease in throttle as he flew. This greatly increases the pilot’s workload. Some modern helicopters still require this attention to the throttle. But most modern helicopters have what’s called a governor. This is an electronic device that automatically adjusts the throttle as needed to keep RPM in the green arc. On a Robinson helicopter, you can actually feel the governor at work sometimes as it twists the throttle while you’re holding its grip.

In the early days of Robinson helicopters, before there was a governor, a lot of pilots were getting themselves into deadly trouble by not keeping the RPM high enough for flight. Robinson introduced the governor and made it required for flight.

If you have a governor failure in flight, you can turn it off and manually adjust the throttle to maintain proper RPM. This happened to me once and it wasn’t a big deal. But, at the same time, if you have a governor failure before you take off, you can’t take off. It’s required for flight. (And yes, you can get a ferry permit to fly the helicopter to a mechanic, if necessary, to make the repair.)

So here I was, with a governor light on, telling me that the governor was not working properly. I was not able to fly until I resolved the problem.

Intermittency

Did you ever notice that a mechanical problem never manifests itself when a mechanic is around to observe it?

I fetched Ed, my Wickenburg mechanic, along with my parts manual. (Unfortunately, the maintenance manual was still up in Page.) Together, we went back to the helicopter to look at the situation.

I flicked on the master switch. The governor light remained off — as it should with the governor turned on.

Damn!

We got the Robinson factory tech support guy on the phone. Ed spoke to him; it made no sense for me to be in the middle of the conversation. When he hung up, we went through the motions of checking to see if the governor was still functioning.

Ed removed the panel behind the front passenger seat where the governor is installed. Everything looked good. We raised and lowered the collective. Everything seemed to be running fine. Then I started up the engine while Ed watched the governor in action. I warmed up, then brought the RPMs up to 80%. The governor, as designed, began twisting the throttle to bring the RPMs up to the top of the green arc on the tachometer. The light remained off.

So the governor seemed to be functioning fine.

I shut down and Ed looked under the instrument panel where a relay that controlled the light was located. It looked fine — no loose wires, no signs of burning or melting. Everything looked perfectly functional.

Now I was in a quandary. The governor and its light were working fine, so I was legal to fly. But what if I got up to the Grand Canyon with my passenger and the light came on again? We’d be stuck up there. That would be a bad thing.

I decided to fly down to Scottsdale as planned. If I had no trouble on the way down there, I’d do the flight to the Grand Canyon. But if I had a problem on my way down or when I got down there, I’d cancel the flight.

The Best Laid Plans…

With the plan laid and everything buttoned back up, I prepared to leave again. An hour had passed; I’d called the client and warned him I’d be late, explaining exactly why. I climbed back into the helicopter, buckled up, and began my startup procedure.

The light came on as soon as I flicked the master switch. Of course, Ed wasn’t around to see it.

Damn!

Now I knew I wasn’t going to fly to Scottsdale or the Grand Canyon that day. But I still needed an answer to one question: was the governor functioning even with the indicator light on?

I ran up the helicopter to 80% RPM. The governor took over and brought it smoothly to the top of the green arc. The governor was still working.

Troubleshooting and Doing the Math

At this point, I had a full summary of information for troubleshooting: The governor light was intermittently going on when it shouldn’t. The governor was working fine, even when the light was on. (Remember, light on is supposed to mean governor off.)

After shutting down and calling the client to cancel, I called Robinson’s tech support again and spoke to the same guy. I told him the symptoms. He said the only thing that could possibly cause the problem was a bad relay under the instrument panel.

I ordered a new one. It cost $42.50 plus shipping. Installation would be another hour or so at $75/hour, but would not happen until Monday at the earliest.

So I had to cancel my Grand Canyon charter that day and my appearance to do helicopter rides at Old Congress Days the following day. I also had to turn down a Phoenix Area tour on Sunday. In all, I figure I lost about $3,000 in revenue.

All for a failed $42.50 part.

The Rules

Now some of you might be saying, it’s not the governor that failed. It’s just the light. You should be able to fly.

Others might be suggesting that I just disconnect the damn light. (Three people in Wickenburg actually did suggest that.)

But I play by the rules. I’ve got too much time and money in my helicopter operations to risk losing my Part 135 certificate or pilot license for breaking the rules.

The rule I was worried about that day was my Part 135 requirements. Because I don’t have a minimum equipment list (MEL) I cannot legally fly my helicopter on any Part 135 flight with any part of the helicopter not functioning. A charter to the Grand Canyon would be a Part 135 flight. Clearly, a broken light would preclude me from flying that mission.

You could argue that I’d still be able to do the helicopter rides at Old Congress Days. After all, they were not Part 135 operations. They were part 91 (or 136). You could argue that the functionality of the light didn’t matter since the light is not required for flight. The governor is what’s required and it still worked fine.

I could agree, but I decided not to take the chance. Doing helicopter rides is not an easy job — especially at Congress’s confined space helipad. Flight after flight, I’m taking off and landing heavy, concentrating on clearing the short chain link fence and taller mesquite trees, keeping an eye out for trains (don’t ask), and dealing with the distractions of passengers. My work load is heavy enough without having to worry about whether the governor light can warn me about a governor failure. I decided it just wasn’t worth the risk.

I just don’t believe in taking unnecessary chances.

The Ad I Labored Over Today

How much can I squeeze into a 2-1/4 x 2 inch box? Quite a bit, it seems.

I’m working on a huge and rather costly marketing plan for Flying M Air. My goal is to push the multi-day excursions Flying M Air offers in Arizona, as well as the new Lake Powell houseboat/helicopter photography excursions we’re planning for next spring.

The entire marketing strategy will include a DVD video which has already been accepted for broadcast on at least one California television station. We’ll be “filming” that in mid to late October.

Flying M Air AdRight now, I’m working on print advertising. Today, I created a 2-1/4 inch wide by 2 inch tall advertisement for the Travel Directory of a relatively popular magazine. The challenge was to have a catch headline, say as much as I could about the excursions, show a photo, and provide contact information — all using my company’s “branded” color scheme and design. You’re looking at the result.

I created the ad in InDesign CS3 using design elements from my original brochure, which was designed by David Van Ness. The font is Optima, which is the “official” Flying M Air font. The photo is of Gregory Butte on Lake Powell, taken by my husband, Mike, a few years ago. I placed it at a 3° angle with a white frame and drop shadow to mimic the design on the brochures and Web site. Although it might not seem that way, the ad is legible — even by me! — when printed. It should look great on the page beside ads for the Amazon and Galapagos.

My next task is to freshen up the Flying M Air Web site with some new images and up-to-date pricing. I hope to get to that sometime this week.

I figure that I probably save at least $10,000/year by being able to do my own layout work. Once David created the basic design for my brochure, I was able to modify it as necessary for the Web site, business cards, rack cards, print and online ads, and other brochures. Best of all, since I have complete control over all documents, I can make changes whenever it’s time to reprint.

Anyone else out there handing all their business marketing needs? Want to share any ideas with the rest of us?

A Quick Story about Gratuities

Read it. It’s funny.

I forgot to mention this in my “Gratuities ARE Appreciated” post, so I’ll share it now.

In the summer of 2004, I was a pilot at the Grand Canyon, working for the big helicopter tour operator there. They’d often have 10 or 11 helicopters running at once, so when a tour bus pulled up, we could take up to 66 passengers at a time. Needless to say, just about all the tour bus operators used us. Very few of our passengers spoke English.

One day, they loaded us up with a Japanese tour group. I had a petite older Japanese woman next to me. She was probably in her 60s. She was very nervous. And she didn’t speak a word of English.

When we first took off, she grasped the bottom of her seat, like most nervous passengers do. And she continued to look nervous for the first part of the flight. But then we slipped over the South Rim and began our flight across the Canyon. Her eyes seemed to bug out of her head as she leaned forward to suck in the view.

After a while, I realized that she wasn’t nervous anymore.

When we landed and I cut the throttle to idle, she leaned across and hugged me — no small task, given I was wearing a shoulder harness, pair of headsets, a baseball cap, and sunglasses. Then she began rummaging around in her purse. She produced a plastic card and handed it to me with a great deal of excited blabbering in Japanese. She bowed repeatedly before the loader came to help her out.

I looked down at the card, completely puzzled. It had a picture of Mt. Fuji on it and was covered with colored symbols and writing in Japanese. There was a magnetic strip on one side. I put it in my shirt pocket.

During my lunch break, I hunted down Hajame, our Japanese pilot. I told him about the woman and then handed him the card. “What is this?” I asked.

He studied it for a moment, then broke out laughing. Apparently, it was some kind of bus pass for a mass transit system in Japan.

To this day, I prize that “tip.” Sure — it’s completely worthless to me. But it was the thought that counted. She, in effect, gave me a souvenir of the flight. And 4+ years later, I still remember her and the flight that won me such a prize.

A Perfect Storm

Why I’ve been neglecting this blog.

I don’t have much time to write this — and that’s the reason I haven’t been writing more regularly. I like to compose at least 5 blog posts a week, yet this is only my third in just over a week. The last post — a video — doesn’t really count, since I didn’t write anything.

So why the neglect? As I mentioned above: time.

Every once in a while, life throws a perfect storm at us. You know what I mean — it’s a period of time when everything seems to go crazy at once.

In my case, it was the following, which have all occurred since July 29:

  • Completion of the annual revision of one of my books (ongoing throughout this period).
  • Reposition my helicopter from Quincy, WA to Seattle, WA.
  • Reposition my camper from Quincy, WA to Page, AZ.
  • Brief 3-day catchup period at home in Wickenburg, AZ.
  • Distribute the animals among multiple boarding facilities.
  • Trip to Seattle, WA.
  • Reposition helicopter from Seattle, WA to Page, AZ.
  • Set up housekeeping in my camper in Page, AZ.
  • Entertain an overnight guest in a very tiny camper.
  • Deal with FAA, airport manager, and local tour operators in Page regarding tour, photo flight, and charter work in Page, AZ (ongoing).
  • Provide moral support for my sister, who has been laid off from her banking job.
  • Three photo flights from Page to Monument Valley.
  • Start of new book with August deadline.
  • Three trips to medical facilities in an attempt to diagnose some severe back pain.

It’s this last thing that’s really gummed up the works. I did something to my back while I was home and the pain became unbearable after the commercial flight to Seattle the next day. I was in an urgent care clinic there where I got prescriptions for drugs I couldn’t take because I had to fly. The pain has varied from annoying but bearable to absolutely crippling every day since then, with one day so bad I was in the hospital emergency room. It hurt to sit and since I need to sit to write, I couldn’t work on the new book — let alone write blog entries.

Miraz hit the nail on the head in her Twitter comment to me, when she said, “Pain is so time consuming and draining.” Wow. I’d never really thought of it like that — probably because I’ve never been in such severe pain for so long.

So now I’m behind in just about everything, racing against the clock to finish a book that’s due tomorrow. (It ain’t gonna happen.) The pain is under control — yesterday was the first day that it was tolerable throughout the day — and physical therapy starts on Monday.

Please bear with me. I do have lots to write about. When I get this book off my plate and catch up on my FAA stuff, I’ll be back with some interesting (I hope) new content here.

Helicopter Flight from Marble Canyon

Flying in a cool place.

Since I haven’t had time to post to my blog, I thought I’d upload a new video clip. In this 4+ minute clip, I’m taking off in the helicopter from Marble Canyon Airport and climbing out toward Page, AZ. You’ll see my takeoff “roll,” the cracked pavement of the taxiway, and the narrow runway at Marble Canyon Airport, before I bank sharply to the right past the Vermillion Cliffs, near historic Navajo Bridge, over Lees Ferry, and up the canyon to Page. No real audio on this one; just some muted helicopter sounds. Comments are welcome — and appreciated!