loss of fuel – Photography, aviation and flight simulation

A virtual C-130 belonging to the Blue Angels is taxiing at the High River airport, in Alberta.

Wanting to add an almost impossible flight in the “unhinged virtual flights” section of my web site, I tried a flight with the Blue Angels C-130 Hercules (Captain Sim) where the aircraft gradually lost all of its engines.

The Blue Angels C-130 Hercules waiting in line behind a single engine aircraft at the High River airport.

I am aware that the Blue Angels mechanics are real professionals, so I assumed that the engine failures were caused by an unknown reason.

A virtual Blue Angels Lockheed C-130 Hercules takes-off from the High River (CEN4) Canadian airport in Alberta.

The take-off was made without problem from the Canadian High River (CEN4) airport. This free airport was designed by Vlad Maly and is available through ORBX. The aircraft leaves the 4150 feet runway heading to the Coeur d’Alène airport (KCOE) in United States.

Eventually, the first engine stops. This does not cause a problem. The propeller is feathered and the gradual climbing continues.

The C-130 Hercules loses its first engine.

The second engine stops. The pilot must forget the initial destination. Bonners Ferry (65S) becomes the alternate airport since the 4000×75 feet runway is good enough for the C-130.

The second engine has just stopped on this C-130 Hercules.

Double engine failure for this virtual Blue Angles C-130 Hercules.

The third engines gives way. A slow descent starts. Bonners Ferry is not very far. The airport is at an altitude of 2337 ft asl.

The aircraft is volontarily flown at a higher altitude than what would normally be requested for a normal approach, just in case the fourth engine stops. When three engines stop after the same refueling, the pilot has the right to think that what feeds the fourth engine can also cause problems.

Three engine failures on this virtual Blue Angels C-130 Hercules.

The highest mountains are now behind the aircraft.

Virtual C-130 Hercules aircraft with three engine failures enroute to the Bonners Ferry airport.

The Bonners Ferry (65S) runway is in sight.

Virtual C-130 Hercules aircraft with three engine failures, by the Bonners Ferry's runway. — Virtual C-130 Hercules aircraft with three engine failures, by the Bonners Ferry’s runway.

The fourth engine stops. The flaps will not be functional for the landing.

From now on, the pilot should save the virtual flight a few times since it is possible that several trials will be necessary to glide sucessfully to the airport. This is the fun of virtual flight.

The four engines have now failed on that virtual C-130 aircraft.

The C-130 Hercules has become a big glider. When the speed is maintained, the aircraft loses more 1000 feet per minute. It is easier to feel the aircraft’s inertia.

The wheels will be brought out only when necessary since the gear adds a lot of drag.

From the position indicated in the picture below, it is impossible to arrive to the airport in a straight line: the aircraft will glide over the airport. In the picture, the aircraft seems to be on a good path for landing, but it is an illusion caused by the wide-angle format chosen for the screen capture.

The aircraft is definitely too high. It is impossible to use the flaps to increase the rate of descent.

Lockheed C-130 Hercules virtual aircraft with four engine failures on the approach to the Bonners Ferry's virtual airport (65S). — Lockheed C-130 Hercules virtual aircraft with four engine failures on the approach to the Bonners Ferry’s virtual airport (65S).

One must choose between 1) sideslips 2) a 360 degree turn to lose altitude or 3) multiple steep turns perpendicular to the runway to increase to distance to the airport.

What would you choose?

There is no universal method. The 360 degree turn is riskier but can prove efficient. An Airbus A330-200 flown by Quebecer Robert Piché that had lost all of its engines landed successfully in the Açores in 2001 after attempting a last minute 360 degree turn to lose altitude. But here, I did not believe there was enough altitude to safely complete the turn and reach the runway.

A few steep turns were made to extend to ride to the airport. Why steep turns? In order to avoid getting closer to the airport before an acceptable altitude was reached. This method helped keep an eye on the runway at all times to verify if the slope to the airport was still acceptable.

Fourty degree turn to the right on the approach to the Bonners Ferry's airport. — Fourty degree turn to the right on the approach to the Bonners Ferry’s airport.

Steep turn to the left to extend the distance to the Bonners Ferry airport.

I tried the three methods, always starting from the same saved flight (photo 10). After several sideslips, the aircraft was always approaching the airport too quickly. There was not enough time to lose altitude. The final speed always happened to be too high to stop a C-130 without flaps or thrust reversers.

The 360 degree turn, be it right or left, with different angles and a reasonable speed, always incurred a loss of altitude that brought the aircraft 200 to 300 feet short of the threshold.

Finally, after a few steep turns, the aircraft was positioned on final with the appropriate speed and altitude.

View of the Lockheed C-130 Hercules with four engine failures, on the approach for Bonners Ferry (65S).

A few last seconds adjustments, to reposition the aircraft in the center of the runway.

Speed 150 knots. End of the turn for the Bonners Ferry's airport. — Speed 150 knots. End of the turn for the Bonners Ferry’s airport.

At 140 kts, but without any reverse thrust, the whole runway should be necessary to stop the aircraft.

Speed 140 knots, aligned with the Bonners Ferry's runway. — Speed 140 knots, aligned with the Bonners Ferry’s runway.

The landing was smooth and the aircraft stopped short of the threshold.

For an unknown reason, the anemometer was still indicating a 10 kts airspeed, even when the aircraft had stopped.

C-130 cargo aircraft on the Bonners Ferry's runway. — C-130 cargo aircraft on the Bonners Ferry’s runway.

Lockheed C-130 Hercules virtual aircraft after landing at the Bonners Ferry (65S) airport.

C-130 Hercules aircraft in Bonners Ferry.

Try such a flight in the virtual mode. The worst that can happen is that you have fun!

For more near impossible flights, head to:

Unhinged Virtual Flights

(Precedent story: unexpected thunderstorm cells)

After a proficiency check, I soon find myself flying a Cessna 170B (tail wheel) on a flight across Canada, from St -Jean-sur- Richelieu, Quebec, to Edmonton, Alberta. I am accompanied by the aircraft’s owner who has not yet completed his private pilot course. The 1952 Cessna flies well, but has absolutely no instruments for air navigation, not even a VOR nor ADF. And the era of the portable GPS is not yet upon us.

Fourteen 1:500,000 VFR charts, covering the planned flight, are folded, glued and numbered. I trace the expected flight path on each chart, with 10 miles landmarks. This will facilitate the monitoring of our progress, considering the absence of navigation equipment. The preparation now completed, the take off is done on a beautiful summer day of 1981.

1:500,000 VFR charts used for a flight toward Edmonton, Canada, in 1981

We do stopovers at Gatineau, North Bay, Sudbury and then fly along Lake Superior to Wawa.

Small break in Sudbury on a VFR flight to Edmonton in 1981

We fly around Lake Superior to our next stopovers, Thunder Bay and Fort Frances. Over large forested areas, with no major landmarks, the gyroscopic precession must be corrected frequently so as not to stray too far from the intended track. Sometimes when it facilitates navigation, we either follow a railway or main roads. There are some instances where the westerly winds are so strong that our ground speed is slower than a car on a highway.

From Fort Frances to Kenora in 1981, with a Cessna C170B

Our flight path follows a line that keeps us away from areas of high air traffic. I choose to fly north of Winnipeg terminal control area, thus avoiding frequent radio exchanges with air traffic control in a language I do not master. The underperforming radio would not be of any help at any rate. This option eventually means that we must fly over Lake Winnipeg, in its southern portion. We have enough altitude to be able to glide to the other side in case of an engine failure. Nonetheless, we realize that we are gradually loosing several thousand feet due to the cold air mass above the lake. This with maximum power applied. The unexpected descent eventually ends, but it is now impossible to have an engine failure without ditching in the lake…

The crossing of Lake Winnipeg with a Cessna C170B in 1981

Near Lundar, Manitoba, the aircraft’s old gauges indicate a significant loss of fuel. It is surprising since we refueled an hour ago. We must land the plane on the nearest runway, but the strong crosswinds exceed the capabilities of the aircraft. Nonetheless, an attempt is made with the result that only the left wheel accepts the contact with the runway. As soon as the right wheel also touches the ground, the aircraft becomes airborne again. A nearby field is selected to make a precautionary landing so that the fuel status can be verified. We fly at low altitude over the electrical wires and the cows in the adjacent field, and touch smoothly at a ground speed not exceeding 15 knots. A farmer witnesses the landing and arrives in his red pick-up to offer some help. The tanks are almost full, so the plane only needs few liters of gasoline. Once this is done, we take off westward. It appears that the old fuel gauges of this 1952 Cessna are now totally unreliable…

Landing in a field with a Cessna C170B in Lundar, Manitoba in 1981.

We leave Manitoba through Dauphin and enter Saskatchewan. If we were to experience an engine failure above such uniform fields, the risk of serious problems at landing would be virtually nonexistent.

Near Yorkton, Saskatchewan, in flight with a Cessna C170B in 1981

The weather is slowly deteriorating. We choose to land in Watson, Saskatchewan, on the nearest runway.

The runway surface consists of muddy earth and grass, and it’s delimited by small red wooden panels. As we touch the ground, the tires splash mud everywhere, including under the wings.

The Watson runway, Saskatchewan, in 1981

The King George motel in Watson, Saskatchewan in 1981

Finally, the weather improves and a takeoff is made toward North Battleford, the last stop before Edmonton. The sloping terrain forces us to fly lower and lower near Edmonton, under an overcast stratocumulus, limiting our ability to see a long time in advance the correct airport from the three available (international, civil , military ). Luckily, everything goes well in choosing the right airport and approach, but we cannot say the same with radio communications. The sound quality coming from the old speaker is awful and the English spoken by the air traffic controller too fast for us. The combination of these two factors causes the controller to repeat more than once his instructions until he finally decides to slow down and we can officially say: « Roger! »

After spending few days in Edmonton it is now time for the return flight to St-Jean. This proves to be much easier and faster because the westerly winds push the aircraft. Our ground speed is sometimes double what we had managed to get on our trip to Edmonton. The journey took us twenty-five hours to go and eighteen hours to come back.

Cessna C170B in flight over Canada, summer 1981.

Climbing to 9,500 feet on the return leg to St-Jean-sur-Richelieu, in 1981.

VFR "on top" with a Cessna C170B in 1981 over Canada — VFR “on top” with a Cessna C170B in 1981 over Canada

Over North Bay, Ontario, the weather is ideal. But we will have to land in Ottawa while waiting for thunderstorms to move away from Montreal and St-Jean-sur-Richelieu. After a total of forty- three-hours of flying time, the old Cessna 170B is landing back to St- Jean -sur- Richelieu.

(Next story: the flight instructor license)