"It'll probably never happen, but …" - ORM Corner - losing electrical power

Approach, Sept, 2002 by Terrence H. Latorre

My squadron recently completed a six-month deployment, and our EA-6Bs were getting a well-deserved avionics upgrade. The robust upgrade included GPS, VHF radio, VOR and ILS capabilities, as well as replacing two essential flight indicators. The primary attitude-reference indicator and heading-situation indicator were upgraded to a commercial, off-the-shelf, electronic flight-instrument system (EFIS) that consisted of two, 4-inch-by-4-inch color screens. Incorporating EFIS into the cockpit was a big change from the analog gauges and required instruction on the many new functions and improvements.

Aircrews were required to complete a transition syllabus for familiarization, proficiency, safety, and standardization. The syllabus included a two-hour lecture, two simulator hops, and two flights. I was one of the first pilots to complete the syllabus and would assist in training of the remaining electronic-countermeasure officers (ECMOs). Our crew of three was scheduled for a day, single-ship, medium-altitude radar hop to complete the EFIS syllabus for my rightseater (ECMO 1).

The weather forecast was VMC, with normal cumulus build-ups and isolated thunderstorms--typical for spring on the East Coast. We completed a NATOPS brief and focused on crew responsibilities for the radar route. It turned out to be a beautiful day to fly, and things were just warm and fuzzy.

We manned-up, launched, and headed out with a full bag of gas--19,400 pounds. We leveled off at 11,000 feet, and I demonstrated some of the different functions and modes of the new boxes. We had been airborne for an hour and were over South Carolina, 250 miles from Cherry Point. My frontseater and I, having fiddled enough with the boxes, called the hop a success and were ready to sit back and enjoy the rest of the flight. The air-traffic controller was talking on the radio to a commercial airliner heading into Greenville, S.C., when suddenly the words stopped in mid-sentence. I heard a loud click and immediately noticed the EFIS displays go blank. The plane had lost electrical power, so I pulled the ram-air turbine (RAT) handle and scanned the cockpit to see if anything else was wrong. For a minute, my senses soaked in every little bump, vibration, or noise while I waited for any other problems. Nothing else popped up; the controls, hydraulics and engines were OK, and the jet seemed flyable. The two of us in the front exchanged blank stares and began tackling the emergency.

I had no response on my ICS or radios, so I removed my mask to communicate with my rightseater. I yelled to ECMO 1 what was now obvious to us all, "I think we have a partial electrical failure--engines good, hydraulics and controls seem OK. I'm gonna head back to Cherry Point, VFR." ECMO 1 nodded in agreement as I selected emergency on our IFF and scrambled for a chart. Both generators seemed to be on line, but a quick scan of the instrument panel showed we were missing both EFIS displays, the radar, all five radios, ICS, TACAN, VOR, GPS, and the INS.

I couldn't help but think back to my first NATOPS check when the instructor said, "It'll probably never happen, but ..."

Without any electronic-navigation equipment, we used our chart and wet-compass to dead reckon the 250 miles from our present position to Cherry Point. We had passed a turn point on our route, so I was able to take a reasonable cut toward the coast. I thought this heading would get us south of Cherry Point, and then we would turn north and follow the coast to home field. Since the plane was flying OK, we could evaluate the situation and develop a plan.

As ECMO 1 broke out the pocket checklist (PCL), I tried to yell to our backseater what our situation was. The backseat is completely blocked off from the front cockpit, except for a small opening behind the pilot's right shoulder. I held up a kneeboard card on which I had-scribbled our current situation and intentions. I looked back through the tiny hole and saw he understood the note. At least we could keep him informed of our plan. ECMO 1 pointed to the PCL and showed we probably had popped the No. 1 DC circuit breaker; it cannot be reset in flight, so we could do nothing to improve the situation. We continued reading the emergency procedure and discovered we could not use the flaps and slats or extend the landing gear by normal means. Singly, these configuration problems aren't too hard to handle; together, they would prove to be a troublesome combination, especially when we had to yell to each other to communicate.

The situation was deteriorating quickly and definitely was getting difficult. We still were more than 200 miles from Cherry Point, flying a lost-communications profile and using the wet compass and a chart to guide our journey. My throat was beginning to hurt from yelling as we discussed our game plan for getting the aircraft configured for landing. NATOPS procedures for blowing down the landing gear required us to be below 8,000 feet and slower than 150 knots. However, to blow down the gear without any available flaps or slats would cause the aircraft to decelerate below stall speed and could cause it to depart controlled flight. The situation in which we found ourselves is well-known in the Prowler community and is presented often during emergency-procedure simulators. The aircraft must be pulled into a zoom climb and placed in a zero-gravity state to prevent it from departing controlled flight while you blow down the gear. As the airspeed decreases toward stall speed, forward stick is applied to place the aircraft in a zero-G state before reaching the 150-knot limit. Technically, the aircraft isn't flying during this ballistic profile, which means it cannot stall even though the instruments indicate less than stall speed. I have practiced this maneuver dozens of times in the simulator but was a little anxious to see how the plane would react. Our game plan was to remain clean until within visual range of the field to conserve gas (there is never enough when you need it) and then do the zoom maneuver just off the coast from Cherry Point.