Hit 'em where it hurts

Approach, July-August, 2005 by Steve Morgenfeld

Thirty-foot seas, more than 30 degrees of roll, and more than 100 knots of wind across the flight deck.

Were we stuck in yet another typhoon on this cruise? Well, no. We actually were tucking tail and running in the other direction. After weathering two typhoons over the past month and a half, the ship had no desire to turn the typhoon hat trick. I would have had no problem running north from the typhoon, except we were supposed to be steaming south to Okinawa. We had to return a borrowed helicopter to our sister squadron, HSL-51 Warlords, stationed in Atsugi, Japan. Okinawa rapidly was becoming a dot on the horizon behind us as we escaped to the north.

Fortunately, we had embarked our sister squadron's turnover crew before leaving the area. Rather than turning over the aircraft in Okinawa, our new plan was to turn it over while on the ship.

Two days later, we were scheduled to be just offshore Atsugi. From there, the other crew could conduct a short flyoff, instead of a long cross-country flight home from Okinawa. Our flight from the storm made the aircraft turnover and subsequent ferry flight to Japan much easier. The additional personnel embarked on the ship from our sister squadron meant several trips ashore to transport everyone home. To make the evolution go quicker, once the borrowed helicopter left the deck, we pulled our helicopter out of the hangar and loaded the pax.

The plan was to fly in formation to Atsugi and take a small detour over Yokohama for a quick photo session. Everyone was looking forward to this good-deal flight on the tail end of our six-month deployment. The only glitch was that we were a bit pressed for time because the ship was ready to head east for the transit home to San Diego. To have time for a bit of sightseeing, we would fly faster than usual. We conducted our preflight brief, and, after everyone was comfortable with the evolution, and all hazards were mitigated and well within acceptable limits, we took off.

Once we launched in our det helo, we started our post take-off checks. One of the very last items on the checklist is the health-indicator test, or HIT check. It's a quick test to determine if the engines are providing an acceptable amount of power. Engine turbine-gas temperature (TGT), altitude, and outside-air temperature are all factored into the check. After recording all of the parameters, I was ready to hit the charts and make sure we were within limits when we received a radio call from the other helicopter. Sidetracked, I checked in with them and forgot about the charts.

We rendezvoused with the other helicopter and began our high-speed-formation flight to Atsugi. Along the way, I concentrated on monitoring my young H2P's formation-flying skills. The beautiful Japanese coastline and silhouette of Mt. Fuji also kept my mind occupied. After flying for about 20 minutes, it dawned on me that I never had run the numbers from the HIT check.

I opened my checklist and consulted the chart. The operating temperature on our No. 1 engine was one degree outside the approved window. Hmm, one degree--that couldn't be a problem, could it? It even was one degree cooler than it should have been. Who's ever heard of an engine failing because it was running cooler than prescribed? Besides, these HIT checks always are within limits. We probably just wrote down a wrong number or happened to record the TGT when it momentarily was in flux. At any rate, even if the HIT check is out of limits, the NATOPS procedures only state that a VIDS/MAF should be created after completing the flight. NATOPS doesn't give any guidance on landing criteria or extended flight. I figured after we dropped off our pax in Atsugi and were transiting home, we'd do another HIT check on the No. 1 engine. I was confident it would be within limits.

Our flight to Atsugi went without a hitch. The trip through Yokohama en route to the base was well worth the high speed of our formation flight. After we bid farewell to our friends, we started our transit back to morn. En route, we recalculated the HIT check on the No.1 engine; it still was out of limits, not by much, but definitely still out. We tried a third time with the same results. We had no other secondary indications of problems in the cockpit, and we rapidly were approaching the ship.

"OK," I thought, "I'll write up the VIDS/ MAF after shutdown, and maintenance will take a look at the engine. It's probably just an air leak or something, not serious. They'll probably just have us do an extra engine wash and try the HIT check again."

We landed without incident. I wrote up the gripe and went inside for movie night.

The next morning, I received a call from our det maintenance chief. "Sir, do you have a minute? I'd like to show you something," he said.

I wandered down to the hangar to find all our ADs huddled around the aircraft--never a good sign.

"We checked out the No. 1 engine after you landed last night. I can't believe it didn't fail on you," the chief said.

I only could muster a faint, "What?"