HNL-337

Over my shoulder Diamond Head slips from sight. As I strain to see Maui off my right the radio brings a new point of interest.

"SKYMASTER --99X VFR FLIGHT ON YOUR ROUTE IS NOT RECOMMENDED. RETURN TO HNL IMMEDIATELY."

For the next 20 min I wage a verbal jousting match with Honolulu center, neither of us ever making a firm statement but neither changing our minds. VFR flight over 2200nm of open ocean was not a common occurrence, but I had done it before and I made that clear. After a call to OAK center I was cleared to proceed VFR.

Shortly I would be out of HNL airspace and radar coverage, now it was time to switch on the ferry tank. After 10 days of scrounging Hawaii for parts and ridiculously expensive shipping from the main-land it was time to earn my keep. Looked in the back of the aircraft; I wonder, 240 gallons, I wish I had more. Turn on the front engine first, if things go bad I can watch it happen. Now the rear engine, me ears perk up, my sense on hi alert, wait, wait, wait. As HNL center fades out I switch #1 COM to 134.45 (pacific plane to plane), #2 is on Guard 122.45 its been there since the first test flight. Now descend to 5500 ft, the maximum altitude for VFR flight in international uncontrolled airspace.

As I settle in to what should be a long boring flight, it's time to reflect on how hard it was to pull this trip together, how the plane was not ready as I had been told, how on every test fright something went wrong. But it was also time to reflect on the fun of watching whales off the north coast of Oahu as I practiced stalls and engine failures or the beauty of an erupting volcano that can only be appreciated from the air. Now 400 miles out and a mere 1800 more to go I was starting to miss Hawaii.

As I relayed my position to a 747 bound for Manila I received an ominous message, I was now to report every 30 min instead of the standard 5 Degrees. I wondered what was up, had I upset some egomaniac controller by challenging their authority, "no, couldn't happen". It must be weather, maybe they know something I don't. After all I was forecast to lose my tail wind in the next 100 miles or so. After a few calculations I realized I had lost my tailwind and even picked up a slight headwind. Now at 124 kts this trip had just been lengthened about an hour, but with 4 hrs reserve I could still make Half Moon Bay with no problem.

The relays to the big boys grew harder and harder to find, now I was starting to get concerned. The rear engine started to develop a miss, or was it my imagination? The sun was not as high as I would have liked, and my headwind had dropped my speed to 114 kts. I was at the midway point; should I continue on or turn tail and head back to Hawaii? My ego got the best of me. 1000 NM to California, I'll make it even on one engine.

As I levelled off at a new altitude the winds seemed to be not as strong, speed was up but so was fuel flow on the front engine. My new calculations show I could make California with just over 2 hrs reserve. Then a friendly voice seemed to reach out of the radio and call my name, it was the Captain of a HNL bound 747, the same one I had flown over with. Oakland center had asked him to give me a call, it seemed they were getting concerned about my progress.

Then it happened: the front engine missed once, twice, then stopped, as I went through the emergency restart procedure the rear engine decided it was not going to carry on without the help of its brother, it too stopped cold. "OH NUTS", I'm a glider 900 miles from land, this is not what I had in mind. Then it dawned on me, my last meal was an Egg McMuffin, what a way to go. As the split second of shock passed I realized I was calling out orders to myself, ferry tank off, boost pumps on, main tanks on, engage starter, "Yes", the front engine started, now repeat the same on the rear, it too came to life then the front engine died again. It must be the fuel, it's got to be the ferry tank, after two more cycles the lines seem to fill with fuel and the engines started to purr again. Now at 1000 ft above the Pacific ocean it was time to get back on track and climb, as I applied full power the imagined miss in the rear engine came back to life. Well whether it is sick or not I need all the power I can get, this engine is going to run till it comes apart.

"May Day, May Day, May Day". I hope my friend in the 747 can still hear me, he does, and relays my situation to Oakland center. Then the airways come alive as I'm handed from one jumbo jet to the next everyone is trying to help, yes aviation is still a brotherhood. Finally 500 nm out of OAK it becomes clear the front engine is still drinking too much fuel. I can't tell what the the rear engine is doing, and to top it off the sun is setting, I'm not going to make it, once again I relay my situation via a west bound MD-11. After about 15 min the reply comes back, San Francisco is launching a Coast Guard C-130 to pick me up, I'm also given instructions to get as close to the coast as I can, the C-130 won't get to me for about 2 hours. OK, I've got to try something, I can't just ride this thing to my death there must be a way.

I shut down the rear engine and hope for improvements. My speed is still about 118kts but my fuel flow has dropped and best of all the shaking has stopped. I just might make it. As the sun sets I file an IFR flight plan and hope for a full moon. But no such luck, not a star in the sky. Then once again an unsolicited radio call, it seems the C-130 had developed mechanical problems of his own and was turning back, but another was being launched as we spoke.

300 miles off the coast I hear an east bound Atlas Air 747 relay my position to a west bound C-130. After another 40 min I finally make contact. We discuss the fuel and engine situation, then the fun part, night ditching with no moon or stars. I'm informed they will try to light the water, but the speed differential will make it hard. The speed difference is also making it hard for us to stay in visual contact, every 10 min I see the lights of my rescuers cross my wind shield then continue to orbit around to the rear. Black sky above, black sea below, black horizon in front and fuel gauges resting firmly on ZERO.

Slowly the tension changes to hope, the horizon starts to get lighter, the C-130 circling overhead confirms it, the lights of the Bay Area are starting to come into view. The C-130 hands me off to Oakland center but stays with me, just in case. I know Half Moon Bay is the closest but it's down to minimums; center clears me direct SFO and hands me off to approach, 10 miles out I call field in sight, approach informs me I'm directly over the runway and cleared for the approach. I must have been looking at OAK. As I pop out of the bottom of the clouds, I start the rear engine and make one of the best landings of my life, I make the first hi speed with half the SFO fire department in trail. Total time en route 18hrs 44 min.

Later inspection revealed

• 12 gal fuel on board;
• Rear engine baffling had come loose and shorted both mags;
• Front fuel strainer had developed leak.