Flight 83
08/24/97

C-172

TEB-44N-46N

1.5 solo
[PASSENGER S.Z.]
[FIRST "STRANDING," WITH ELECTRICAL PROBLEM]

Mild, light winds

I've arranged to pick up my friend and loft-mate, Stevie Z. at Sky Acres Airport- he's been visiting his parents nearby, and needs a ride home anyway. I'm going to to take him up to Sky Park first, so we can spend a few hours at the Old Rhinebeck Aerodrome.

He and I have bonded over our mutual move of cranky old machines- we've helped each other out quite a bit lately, working on his 1972 Volvo 1800 and my 1976 Fiat Spider, which share the tiny garage attached to our building.
We often joke about how he is jinxed, however, when it comes to things mechanical- he's had numerous nasty surprises with the Volvo and some other vehicles he's driven (and worked on). It doesn't occur to me as I prepare for this flight that the jinx might extend to airplanes...

The weather is perfect- a mild August day with no threat of early convection. I've taken 6FR, and as I pass the Alpine Tower on my way north, the alternator light winks on. The ammeter confirms that the alternator is now offline; I pull the breaker, then push it in again. The light goes out, and the ammeter needle swings back into the green.

This is, apparently, one of 6FR's little "tricks"- I've seen it before, and apparently it hasn't warranted any repair of what must be a loose wire or something.

Unfazed, I press on, still glancing occasionally at the light, which remains unlit.

I arrive at 44N with some panache, and get Steve settled in quickly for our quick hop to 46N. Steve is a good sport even though I've forgotten to bring an extra headset for him... and even quietly endures a go-around at Sky Park from an appalingly high approach.

And it's terrific to finally share my passion for flying with a friend who's watched me struggle through the training... he understands what it means to me to have this privilege.


Meanwhile, during the second circuit there, the alternator light comes on again, and won't go out despite my troubleshooting. Without realizing it, I squeeze the last bit of juice from the battery lowering flaps for the approach.

After we return from Old Rhinebeck (where the biplane we'd been hoping to take a ride in was down for repairs... the jinx again?), the plane of course will not start. The battery is completely dead, and clearly a jump-start or hand-start will just invite more trouble if the alternator fails again as we approach TEB. Don't want to lose the transponder and comm radio in that area!

I call the school, and after explaining about five times that I did not, in fact, leave the master switch on, I am told a pickup will not be possible: it is a fine Sunday, and all the school's planes are out on flights. 

The mechanic there considers our predicament, and tells me "Maybe ol' Doc there can give you a lift to the bus station... I think he's heading over to Kingston soon anyway."

"Doc"is contentedly riding a lawnmower around the perimeter of the hangars... probably the caretaker or something, I figure.

I am mistaken. "Doc", who cheerfully agrees to drive us over the bridge to Kingston, turns out to be Jalal Mahdavian, MD, FACS, Diplomate of American Board of Surgery (that's what it says on his business card). He's a doctor, an accomplished pilot and aircraft owner, and a Flight Surgeon with the FAA. He mows the grass there simply because he enjoys it. 

Also a very nice guy... thanks for the lift, Doc!

The bus ride back to New York is long and arduous, and definitely a let-down compared to flying back. Steve is not too upset, admitting that it was probably all his fault, being a jinx and all.
 But I know better- and it's yet another reason why I am thinking about turning my back on that flight school altogether.