20 | SEPTEMBER 2019 FLYINGMAG.COMT & T
TRAINING
& TECHNIQUE
SLOW DOWNI.L.A.F.F.T.
get them. With enough time for us to order a pizza to be
delivered from the local chain restaurant, the keys were
retrieved, and the truck’s engine sputtered to life.
After pumping 26 gallons into the right wing, the fuel
truck’s engine suddenly died. Repeated attempts to restart
the old beast were unsuccessful, so the fueler called in
reinforcements to try all their secret tricks to nudge old
Betty enough to continue fueling my thirsty bird. With
no luck after 20 minutes of trying, we were getting tired
and frustrated. But we knew the ramp team was too, and
they were very apologetic.
The team offered to get a clean five-gallon bucket and
drain fuel from the truck’s sump. They found a very big
funnel to at least get “some” fuel in my left-wing tank.
We planned on waiting for them to drain five buckets of
fuel to get us on our way.
With the first bucket full of fuel, they began pouring
it into the funnel for the wing tank. Seemingly without
warning, the sky opened up and started pouring down rain.
We decided that the additional 26 gallons in the right wing
and five gallons in the left would get us to our destination
with more than 45 minutes of reserve. The fuel team fin-
ished emptying the bucket and looked like a NASCAR pit
crew when they quickly removed the funnel and replaced
the fuel cap to keep the rain from entering the tank.
We jumped into the airplane, started it up, checked the
onboard tanks and did the math. “No problem!” Even the rain
had stopped—which, from what I hear, is common in Florida.
The run-up was smooth, the needles in the green—and
off we went. We kept the fuel drawing from the right tank
long enough to balance the wings again and made it safely
to our destination. Looking back, that could have easily
resulted in a different outcome.
Upon landing, taxi and shutdown, and before egress,
my passenger noticed something wrong on the right wing.
“Why don’t we have a fuel cap?” he asked. After my heart
jumped into my throat, I hopped out and ran over with my
f lashlight. I could not see fuel in the tank. The wind f low
probably sucked all of it out of the wing.
I called the FBO and informed them of the issue, and
they promised to check the ramp the next morning, which
they did and found no cap. During all the distraction of the
fuel truck stopping, changing the fueling procedures and
the rainstorm, the fueler probably didn’t put the cap backon—or at least didn’t put the cap-locking lever down—and I
failed to do a proper pref light.Here is what “I learned about f lying from that”:- Good thing the landing checklist says to change to
fullest tank before landing. - I can’t fault the fueler for not replacing the cap because
I don’t know if that actually happened. Had I done a
walk-around in the pouring rain, I would have noticed
the missing cap. - Pref light checklists are very important—even outside
in the rain, snow, heat and so on. - Fuel caps for this airplane cost $350.
- When the routine is interrupted, there is a higher
chance of distraction. - Most FBO parts departments don’t stock fuel caps.
- Even if the FBO finds the correct part number for the
correct airplane, the manufacturer could still send the
wrong cap overnight. - You meet the most-interesting and friendly people
when the “you know what” hits the fan. - When your instructor isn’t there, you sometimes cut
corners when you’re in a hurry or don’t want to get your
hair messed up. Slow down. - Sometimes a pop-up rain shower will just walk on by
if you relax and give it a few.
A few days later, before putting in fuel for departure,
I made sure to drain the fuel sumps twice to look for
water, just like I had been taught from my first flying
lesson. There actually was fuel in both tanks but no
water, so I topped off the tanks and took off, keeping a
close eye on the engine sounds, gauges and the engine-out
emergency checklist.UPON LANDING, TAXI AND SHUTDOWN, AND
BEFORE EGRESS, MY PASSENGER NOTICED
SOMETHING WRONG ON THE RIGHT WING. “WHY
DON’T WE HAVE A FUEL CAP?” HE ASKED.