Never again: In the dark

An easy 1 hour, 45 minute flight that I had made many times in my Piper Tri-Pacer, a craft that has served me well for over 50 years. It has taken me reliably coast to coast several times, and as far down in the Caribbean as St. Martin.

Among N4787A’s strong points are its cruise speed of 100 knots, which allows for a lot of time to think; the interconnected rudder and ailerons, which negate the need for an autopilot as you can steer with your feet while handling paperwork; and a five-hour endurance at 8.6 gph, which exceeds the endurance of my three-hour bladder. As for comfort, the front seats are on an inclined slide that gives more head room as the seat goes rearward and the center of gravity is right at the front seats, the battery located under the co-pilot’s seat. The master switch and starter are cleverly hidden from would-be thieves under the pilot’s seat. My flight bag fits nicely under my knees, providing comfort and easy access to charts and flight paraphernalia.

My visit was wonderful and the trip home promised to be equally delightful. Traffic advisories from Philly and Baltimore approach were exceptionally good, and with the setting sun reflected on the underside of the big jets I spotted traffic immediately. Baltimore even congratulated me on my quick sightings. Darkness hit quickly as I passed over southern Maryland. The stars seemed equal to the number of lights from farms along the way. My thoughts wandered from the families sitting down to dinner, the wonderful day I had had, and the beauty of flight.

As the stars and lights hazed over, at first I thought it was because of my misty eyes, but I soon realized that there was dense ground fog marring the tranquility of the evening. With 20 minutes to go to my destination, but with the deepening ground fog, I thought it prudent to divert to Richmond International (RIC) instead of trying to get into home base. Before attempting contact with Richmond Approach, I decided to study my approach plates first. As I was grabbing them it happened: complete and total electrical failure. Immediate darkness inside and out, no radios, and no panic—yet—but real concern.

I cranked in a little nose-up trim, and did my best to think through my next move. Years back I had put Velcro on the bill of my flying cap and affixed a penlight to it. Unfortunately, it was back on the hat shelf and out of reach. I had my handheld radio handy, but it worked best with the external antenna, and in the darkness I couldn’t fly and affix it. Should have hooked it up before it got dark. As I got closer I could call up RIC and get a precision no-gyro approach—if I could stay upright long enough.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to relax and diagnose the problem. The last thing I did before the failure was get my approach plates out of my bag, which was under my knees, and which leans up against the panel which contains the master toggle switch. Like a flash, as they say, I turned the toggle on, light restored—and except for the IFR conditions, all was good. Calling Richmond I got a clearance for the ILS to Runway 16, with a vector that, as luck would have it, took me right over Hanover County Municipal Airport. I spotted a bright orange light through the haze which I knew to be the truck stop one-half mile from my runway. I told RIC I had OFP in sight and landed with no damage to the airplane, and only psychological damage to the pilot.

In the future I will plan ahead better and remember if something goes wrong to ask, What was the last thing I did before calamity struck?

Gilbert Halasz is a pilot with more than 5,000 flight hours who lives in Mechanicsville, Virginia.