Petrol fumes in aircraft. Once burnt twice shy if you survive the first time.
In 1953 I was a co-pilot on a Lincoln bomber on the way to Darwin for a two week SAR detachment. Shortly after take off the following day, I notified the captain that fuel was spraying overboard from the fuel filler cap on the top of the right wing, outboard of No 4 engine. Each wing tank contained 1000 gallons of AVGAS.
With hot exhaust stacks only a few feet away from the spraying fuel I thought the captain would be wise to stop the engine and feather its propeller. The captain, a former WW2 Liberator pilot, seemed unconcerned and flew a normal circuit and landed. We taxied to the tarmac still spilling fuel. It was no big deal to him. His confident manner relaxed me and Lincoln fuel leaks became no big deals for me.
A few years later and now a Lincoln instructor, I was tasked to convert a newly arrived Wing Commander to the Lincoln. That was in January 1958. At the time I was 26 years old and the Wing Commander, a former wartime pilot was about 45. He was a pleasant old (in my eyes) chap and a very keen pilot.
It was his first flight in a Lincoln and we spent some time in the cockpit discussing its layout. His normally cheery demeanour began to fade and I saw him sniffing the air suspiciously. The Lincoln was a smelly aircraft at the best of times and worse in the tropical heat. It whiffed of stale BO, hydraulic oil and in particular the faint odour of fuel emanating from the various fuel cross-feed cocks situated at the back of the main spar next to the signaller’s position. It was the signaller’s job to operate the fuel cross-feed system when required.
I had just explained the use of the fuel booster pumps when the Wingco held up his hand and said he was leaving the aircraft immediately until the ground crew had checked the cockpit area for fuel leaks. This caught me unawares but it was obvious he wasn’t joking. So with our parachutes, Mae West life jackets, flying helmets and goggles we laboriously climbed through the front escape hatch in the nose of the Lincoln and down a ladder held by a member of the ground staff.
Back In his office I explained that the faint odour of petrol fumes was an almost everyday event in the Lincoln bomber. The CO looked at me and asked if I had ever seen a man burned to death. I was shaken by his question and said no.
He said he had flown American built Martin Maryland light bombers during the Western Desert campaign in World War Two. He was taxiing when he saw the cockpit of another RAAF Maryland erupt in flames shortly before its pilot was about to start engines. The pilot was unable to escape from the cockpit before the flames overcame him. The subsequent investigation revealed that petrol fumes in the cockpit had been reported by a previous pilot but due to mission priority, rectification had been delayed.
It takes only one tiny spark to ignite petrol fumes as a Piper Aztec pilot found out to his cost on final approach to an airport in USA. A fuel line to the fuel flow indicator came adrift behind the instrument panel and sprayed raw fuel on the pilot’s feet and soaked the carpet. When he selected the landing gear lever to down at 1500 feet on final, a wayward spark from a solenoid behind the instrument panel instantly ignited the petrol fumes, causing a conflagration in the cockpit. The pilot was incapacitated and the Aztec crashed into a lake situated half a mile from the runway. Investigators found severe burn marks to one wrist of the pilot caused by his efforts to reach for a fire extinguisher between the front seats.
In later years I worked as a flying instructor at Essendon where an operator used a Cessna 152 for traffic surveillance. I chanced to be on the tarmac when a newly minted CPL pilot was about to start its engine. Earlier I had noticed extensive green fuel stains on the underside of one wing and signs of fuel dripping down the flaps and the pilot side door. The fuel drain point was wet. I had shown these to the pilot who was in a hurry to get airborne.
He ignored my advice not fly with an obviously unserviceable aircraft, adding he was afraid of losing his job if he didn’t get airborne on time. It turned out the aircraft had been in that condition on many previous flights but pilots were reluctant to write up the defect for job security reasons.
Once burned, twice shy is an old saying. That may be true; but only if you are lucky enough to survive the first time..