LOW FUEL

I had started early that morning and had flown with students all day with only a couple of short breaks. It was getting late. I was tired. And I wanted to go home. And then, just as I walked into the FBO office, the phone rang.

One of my boss’s golfing buddies needed to fly from Appleton, Wisconsin, where I was based, to Bridgeport, Connecticut. Once there, we would onload some freight and bring it back to Appleton. It was going to be an all-nighter. After I’d already put in a full day.

Oh, sure, there were flight and duty regulations, but any pilot who wanted to keep his job knew how to doctor his records so it appeared he was “rested” and “legal” to fly. That’s what was expected, and that’s the way it was done.

So, as soon as the customer showed up, we hopped into the BE55 Baron and off we went. Weather was good in Wisconsin, so I opted to get my weather briefing and file an IFR flight plan once we were up and going. No sense wasting time on the ground.

The weather in Bridgeport was IFR, but not forecast to be all that bad. The flight was uneventful for the first couple hours, although I could feel fatigue setting in.

I didn’t get a weather update enroute. Should have. Didn’t. 

And this was my first time there. I had no idea how close it was to some of the heaviest volume airports in the country, or how that would affect our flight time. I checked the ATIS.

Weather was now down to ILS minimums at Bridgeport. Traffic was heavy. ATC was issuing holding instructions for everyone, including us.

They say there are usually 7 links in the chain of events that lead up to an accident. If you are keeping score, we were by now at 6. Fatigued pilot. Rushed planning. Didn’t check weather enroute. Heavy traffic. Pilot unfamiliar with the airport. Workload piling up.

And just to make things interesting, we were running low on fuel. So low that by the time we were issued approach clearance, we had just enough fuel to attempt one approach and maybe a second try. So that makes 7. We were ripe for the Grim Reaper’s taking.

This was the lowest approach I’d ever attempted in a non-training environment at that stage of my career. I was nervous. I knew I had to make it.

The first time.

I didn’t want to chance a second attempt on fumes.

You are reading this, so you know that yes, I did make it. But it scared the crap out of me.

So many lessons to learn. Most of which I should have already known.

First, don’t fly when fatigued. Don’t let a boss bully or intimidate you into risking your life or anyone else’s life.

Second, take the time. Get a good weather briefing.

Third, check the weather along the way. Make whatever precautionary arrangements are necessary, such as a fuel stop.

Fourth, be familiar with, or take the time to familiarize yourself with, your route and your destination.

And fifth, don’t send a young, inexperienced pilot who has been flying all day on such a mission.

I’ve said it before. There are old pilots. And there are bold pilots. But there are no old, bold pilots.