GroundBound
29th Aug 2003, 19:10
Some weeks ago, a colleague and myself decided it was time for a cross channel flight, and we planned Wednesday this week.
We set off from Charleroi, with me flying the first leg to Lydd. Scattered cloud kept us down to about 1800ft, until the Channel, but it was no problem. Over the Channel, the cloud opened up and allowed us up to FL45 which seemed more appropriate, with a great view of the white cliffs, then an easy slide down into Lydd.
Mr. A took the next leg to Popham, keeping down to 1400ft, below Gatwick, since the frequency was busy and a zone transit unlikely. No hassle though, and a good service from Farnborough LARS. The inevitable bacon sandwich on the terrace at Popham which had quite a busy café going.
Off then, on my leg, this time to Manston. Called Farnborough LARS again, and followed the M3 and the railway line (I'm told they call this the British Rail clearance, or some such) with a good view of Farnborough 2 n.m. to the right and Heathrow in the distance off to the left - the tails of the B747s clearly visible. Recognised Woking station, where I used to go train spotting as a lad (sad, but true :{ - but hey, I did grow out of it!). Lots of traffic information from Farnborough, and we saw all of it, including the Beech which crept up from behind and overtook us on the left at 200 metres - I hope he saw us - we were looking for him, but the high wing of the Cessna kept him hidden.
Over the top of Biggin Hill, onwards to Detling, and Mr A says "what's that light there?". Yep, a low voltage warning light (except it’s a high voltage warning light, despite being marked as low voltage). Frankly I don't really care, what the hell does it mean? Out come the check lists, and we go through the actions - nothing solves it. Call on the radio, but no response, despite all still appearing well on the radio stack. 15 minutes left to Manston, keep going or divert to Rochester? Then everything on the radio stack went black - OK Rochester! Selected the hand microphone, and transmitted blind (and they heard us), me "aviating" and Mr. A working the radio and looking out. Mr A gives me a polite reminder that we may not have flaps, and I didn't want to put them out, then find I had to go-around, and couldn't get them up again - so a flapless landing on 02 and find our way round to the parking.
By now, mid afternoon, and the engineer is away fixing something else and won't be back until much later. Bang goes any chance of getting home tonight - and no toothbrush, either!
Next morning, to our delight, the engineer can't get the radios working either (so it wasn't us, then - phew!), but he does find something odd with one of the CBs. A bit of fiddling and research and the radios are up and running, the alternator is checked and shows no problem - a ground run for 30 minutes and all looks well - except the weather. That much wished for rain - at least by the gardeners - has appeared and a warm front is forecast close to our route, and it doesn’t look like an afternoon trip across the Channel is going to be "on". We discuss the options with some of the local instructors - that's a very friendly club there - and the conclusion is that it is flyable if we avoid the showers, and plan some possible stop-offs along the route.
Off we go, Mr A taking the return leg to Charleroi. Immediately turning on course the showers look wider and uglier than expected, so we find ourselves deviating along the north Kent coast, trying to find a way around. Mr A. points to the redly glowing low voltage warning light (which is high voltage warning really … etc.). Oh boy, not again. Call London - no reply. This time, Mr A does the aviating and I do the rest. OK Manston is 12 miles away, blind call to London using the "mike", tell them what we are doing and why, then switch to Manston, and transmit blind. Squawk 7600 (apparently half of England, and parts of France saw it). Rain showers over the air field, so we hold off a bit to the North then drop down over the Tower, and position for rwy 10. The lights are on, and we can see the fire truck waiting for us - so they heard us too - just as well, as they had incoming jet traffic which they held off for us.
Well, its now 17:00 and the engineer at Manston (a nice bloke, and a PPL holder himself) apologises that he isn't going to be able to look at it for several days. However, a quick check over, and an explanation of all that has happened, recycle the alternator switch and "magic" all is working. We're not exactly convinced, because we had tried all that before and it didn't work . However he gives us a good explanation, and a thorough briefing on how we can retrieve the situation if it happens again. Yes, well, errrrmmm …
By now, the clouds are forming in thick dark gray rolls, although the visibility is good beneath. More weather checks along the route, and its actually looking much better across the Channel, if we can just get there. We've also got plenty of bolt holes - Calais, St Omer, Merville, Lille, and St Ghislain. Off again, heading towards Dover, and Manston give us a report of heavy weather showing on the radar - yep we can see it just where they say it is. So we turn a bit earlier for Calais, and head over the Channel - the ferry passing 1000ft below us. Thick showers are now beginning to drift across our track, so we bend it more to the East - we can see the French coast quite clearly though. After several minutes we can see round the curtains of rain, and make a turn back towards Calais. Cross over the coast near ING and look for our way towards Lille - more curtains of rain and poor visibility. OK, no way through there, so we turn back towards Calais and ask them for the Lille weather. It still looks acceptable, so we probably just need to get through a few more miles and it should pick up. Decision time - go for it, or drop down into Calais? Visibility was 6km at Calais, but looks to be dropping to the limits on our desired track, We are picking up splatters of rain blown over from the showers. However, we can see the ground, we have been able to get good map references, the VOR/DME is working fine, and the little Garmin GPS is working its magic - all tell us we are where we think we are.
Mr A decides its worth a try, so we turn on course for Lille, and its marginally better as we are a few miles further North of our first try. We bid goodbye to the controller at Calais and head towards the murk, at 1000ft. There's no high ground on route, some masts off to the side of our track, but we reckon there's enough visibility to see our way through. It remains gloomy for some time - and thankfully without the friendly red glow from the low voltage warning light (which isn't really …etc.). We call Lille, but can't hear them. However a friendly Brit passing through in an N-reg relays our call to Lille. Eventually we make contact and they pass us to Merville. Soon we can see it over on the right which gives us a good visibility check through the murk - its actually about 6km, and is slowly picking up. Onwards over Lille and there's a definite improvement in the weather and the rain showers have stopped by now. The last bit is now a doddle, and as we arrive at Charleroi I think I probably wouldn't normally fly in this, but in comparison to what we saw on route it’s a piece of cake.
Thinking back , if I had been P.I., I think I would have put down at Calais, as I tend towards the cautious side . However, I did see that, it is possible to fly through some poor weather, with proper caution, and hope I have learned something from it.
Our little adventure with the low voltage also added considerably to our experience, as it was a first "incident" for both of us. Mr A had a checklist, sent by his brother who is training for an ATPL, and it was a darn sight more useful than the trivial one I have - I'll be copying his very shortly! It was also very reassuring to have a fellow pilot to talk through the options and distribute the workload, and keep a cool head.
So we made it back, a day late, a few pounds lighter in the wallet and perhaps with some first "real" experience under our belts.
And of course, something to tell someone else.
:cool: :cool:
We set off from Charleroi, with me flying the first leg to Lydd. Scattered cloud kept us down to about 1800ft, until the Channel, but it was no problem. Over the Channel, the cloud opened up and allowed us up to FL45 which seemed more appropriate, with a great view of the white cliffs, then an easy slide down into Lydd.
Mr. A took the next leg to Popham, keeping down to 1400ft, below Gatwick, since the frequency was busy and a zone transit unlikely. No hassle though, and a good service from Farnborough LARS. The inevitable bacon sandwich on the terrace at Popham which had quite a busy café going.
Off then, on my leg, this time to Manston. Called Farnborough LARS again, and followed the M3 and the railway line (I'm told they call this the British Rail clearance, or some such) with a good view of Farnborough 2 n.m. to the right and Heathrow in the distance off to the left - the tails of the B747s clearly visible. Recognised Woking station, where I used to go train spotting as a lad (sad, but true :{ - but hey, I did grow out of it!). Lots of traffic information from Farnborough, and we saw all of it, including the Beech which crept up from behind and overtook us on the left at 200 metres - I hope he saw us - we were looking for him, but the high wing of the Cessna kept him hidden.
Over the top of Biggin Hill, onwards to Detling, and Mr A says "what's that light there?". Yep, a low voltage warning light (except it’s a high voltage warning light, despite being marked as low voltage). Frankly I don't really care, what the hell does it mean? Out come the check lists, and we go through the actions - nothing solves it. Call on the radio, but no response, despite all still appearing well on the radio stack. 15 minutes left to Manston, keep going or divert to Rochester? Then everything on the radio stack went black - OK Rochester! Selected the hand microphone, and transmitted blind (and they heard us), me "aviating" and Mr. A working the radio and looking out. Mr A gives me a polite reminder that we may not have flaps, and I didn't want to put them out, then find I had to go-around, and couldn't get them up again - so a flapless landing on 02 and find our way round to the parking.
By now, mid afternoon, and the engineer is away fixing something else and won't be back until much later. Bang goes any chance of getting home tonight - and no toothbrush, either!
Next morning, to our delight, the engineer can't get the radios working either (so it wasn't us, then - phew!), but he does find something odd with one of the CBs. A bit of fiddling and research and the radios are up and running, the alternator is checked and shows no problem - a ground run for 30 minutes and all looks well - except the weather. That much wished for rain - at least by the gardeners - has appeared and a warm front is forecast close to our route, and it doesn’t look like an afternoon trip across the Channel is going to be "on". We discuss the options with some of the local instructors - that's a very friendly club there - and the conclusion is that it is flyable if we avoid the showers, and plan some possible stop-offs along the route.
Off we go, Mr A taking the return leg to Charleroi. Immediately turning on course the showers look wider and uglier than expected, so we find ourselves deviating along the north Kent coast, trying to find a way around. Mr A. points to the redly glowing low voltage warning light (which is high voltage warning really … etc.). Oh boy, not again. Call London - no reply. This time, Mr A does the aviating and I do the rest. OK Manston is 12 miles away, blind call to London using the "mike", tell them what we are doing and why, then switch to Manston, and transmit blind. Squawk 7600 (apparently half of England, and parts of France saw it). Rain showers over the air field, so we hold off a bit to the North then drop down over the Tower, and position for rwy 10. The lights are on, and we can see the fire truck waiting for us - so they heard us too - just as well, as they had incoming jet traffic which they held off for us.
Well, its now 17:00 and the engineer at Manston (a nice bloke, and a PPL holder himself) apologises that he isn't going to be able to look at it for several days. However, a quick check over, and an explanation of all that has happened, recycle the alternator switch and "magic" all is working. We're not exactly convinced, because we had tried all that before and it didn't work . However he gives us a good explanation, and a thorough briefing on how we can retrieve the situation if it happens again. Yes, well, errrrmmm …
By now, the clouds are forming in thick dark gray rolls, although the visibility is good beneath. More weather checks along the route, and its actually looking much better across the Channel, if we can just get there. We've also got plenty of bolt holes - Calais, St Omer, Merville, Lille, and St Ghislain. Off again, heading towards Dover, and Manston give us a report of heavy weather showing on the radar - yep we can see it just where they say it is. So we turn a bit earlier for Calais, and head over the Channel - the ferry passing 1000ft below us. Thick showers are now beginning to drift across our track, so we bend it more to the East - we can see the French coast quite clearly though. After several minutes we can see round the curtains of rain, and make a turn back towards Calais. Cross over the coast near ING and look for our way towards Lille - more curtains of rain and poor visibility. OK, no way through there, so we turn back towards Calais and ask them for the Lille weather. It still looks acceptable, so we probably just need to get through a few more miles and it should pick up. Decision time - go for it, or drop down into Calais? Visibility was 6km at Calais, but looks to be dropping to the limits on our desired track, We are picking up splatters of rain blown over from the showers. However, we can see the ground, we have been able to get good map references, the VOR/DME is working fine, and the little Garmin GPS is working its magic - all tell us we are where we think we are.
Mr A decides its worth a try, so we turn on course for Lille, and its marginally better as we are a few miles further North of our first try. We bid goodbye to the controller at Calais and head towards the murk, at 1000ft. There's no high ground on route, some masts off to the side of our track, but we reckon there's enough visibility to see our way through. It remains gloomy for some time - and thankfully without the friendly red glow from the low voltage warning light (which isn't really …etc.). We call Lille, but can't hear them. However a friendly Brit passing through in an N-reg relays our call to Lille. Eventually we make contact and they pass us to Merville. Soon we can see it over on the right which gives us a good visibility check through the murk - its actually about 6km, and is slowly picking up. Onwards over Lille and there's a definite improvement in the weather and the rain showers have stopped by now. The last bit is now a doddle, and as we arrive at Charleroi I think I probably wouldn't normally fly in this, but in comparison to what we saw on route it’s a piece of cake.
Thinking back , if I had been P.I., I think I would have put down at Calais, as I tend towards the cautious side . However, I did see that, it is possible to fly through some poor weather, with proper caution, and hope I have learned something from it.
Our little adventure with the low voltage also added considerably to our experience, as it was a first "incident" for both of us. Mr A had a checklist, sent by his brother who is training for an ATPL, and it was a darn sight more useful than the trivial one I have - I'll be copying his very shortly! It was also very reassuring to have a fellow pilot to talk through the options and distribute the workload, and keep a cool head.
So we made it back, a day late, a few pounds lighter in the wallet and perhaps with some first "real" experience under our belts.
And of course, something to tell someone else.
:cool: :cool: