Is Your Airplane Code 1?
As a fighter jock we did not go to any charm school to learn the finer art of politics.
Every now and then you would pick up on some pearls of wisdom at the bar.
There were many survival sound bites I adopted over the years.
For instance, there are three people you can not piss off; your crew chief, the boss's secretary and the gate guard.
I think the second two are obvious.
However, the art of building a solid relationship with the maintenance troops was the difference between confidently pushing the edge of the envelope and not getting out of the chocks.
Pilots and airframes come and go while savvy mechanics are the backbone of the flying organization.
Once a pilot became mission ready in a squadron, their name was painted on the side of the jet with the dedicated crew chief that maintained the jet.
It was a good feeling.
We did not always get to fly "our jet".
But any time it was close in the line-up, most of us would jockey for position to fly the bird with our name on it.
There were some unwritten rules among pilots and crew chiefs.
For example, if I did anything to cause a safety issue or extra work I quickly responded with a case of beer.
It was more about pride, discipline and attention to detail.
Some of the 'gotchas' were leaving the ejection seat armed, master arm switch not safe, air refueling door opened, leaving classified tapes in the recorder and not following hand signals while people were attending to the jet.
Sometimes it meant owning up to something that occurred in flight like pulling excessive G's or dropping something in the cockpit you could not recover.
When we returned from a mission we were required to call into the squadron our maintenance codes.
Code 1 meant everything was fine.
All she needed was gas and weapons.
Code 2 was for minor maintenance issues.
She can go to battle but not everything is working perfectly.
Finally, there was Code 3.
This was a show stopper.
Calling in a maintenance code seems simple but there was quite an art to it.
You did not want to take the jet out of the lineup.
More importantly you did not want to place your fellow aviator flying the jet next in any danger.
As you can imagine, there was room for interpretation on the "health" of the jet when calling in codes.
Crew chiefs were recognized for percentage of Code 1 squawks.
Picky pilots were not popular.
Likewise there was no tolerance for poor integrity.
As is the case with many things in life, once you know the rules you can play the game.
Many of us relied on the relationship of our crew chief to keep us going.
For example, even though I called in a code 1; when I shut down my number 2 engine as I was coming into the hotpit earlier than required, the crew chief knew to grab a headset and find out what he needed to fix.
This is the stuff they don't teach you in flight school.
As an aircraft owner in general aviation you need a good crew chief.
Sometimes it is yourself, other times you may fly your plane long distances to seek the workmanship of top talent.
Along the way I have found out that I can not always fly Code 1 in my own airplane.
Clearly all AD's and required maintenance procedures are complied with.
It's the nuisance items that continue to linger until you have them fixed during routine maintenance or you finally throw in the towel and get them resolved.
I'm sure many of you can relate with my plight.
My first squawk was an intermittent intercom in the backseat.
Then there was the glideslope off flag.
ILS tracked perfectly except for this glaring off flag.
So now I'm thinking that I don't really like to fly with 4 people, even if I do they can share headsets.
Like most IFR pilots, I spend an inordinate amount of time avoiding the weather so the off flag is not critical.
Besides, localizer mins are scary enough.
Next the #2 radio decided to quit transmitting.
Again, not a big deal, I have 2 radios and the second is used for catching up on the weather, listening to traffic and checking ATIS or AWOS.
Finally there was the leak in my pitot static line that caused airspeed to indicate 20-30 kts slower than actual.
Even though I have GPS backup, this one could cause bodily harm and needed action.
Unfortunately my FBO does not have an avionics shop.
In fact, we've struggled to keep a good mechanic on the ramp.
It was time to pull the trigger on a recommendation from a fellow pilot.
Bay Avionics at Hampton Roads Executive Airport (KPVG) would prove to be a very enjoyable experience.
I played hooky from my day job and set a course for southeastern Virginia.
Ronnie, Jim and Steve diligently worked my airplane issues and explained what they found.
In no time, I was all buttoned up and ready to go.
The pitot static system was leaking from the connection behind the airspeed indicator.
Additionally, when we blew out the pitot tube, some uninvited guest left a grease spot on my wing.
The glideslope off flag appeared to need a little love from the vast array of bench testing equipment and was no longer sticking.
Number 2 radio required a replacement part.
The intercom problem was a loose wire.
In no time I was code 1.
Best of all, the price tag for this avionics overhaul was less than $175 including a great lunch at the airport café.
Ronnie loves wires and how things work.
He runs a modest business and does not fly.
His passion outside of work is boats.
Jim had an uncanny ability to look at the soul of a radio and know what was ailing it before hooking it up to the testing equipment.
Steve shared his knowledge about the gorgeous Alaskan landscape where he worked on floatplanes prior to relocating to Virginia.
I'm not sure which one of us was the most excited about fixing my airplane after it was all done.
On the return trip I was elated and reflected on the great experience at Bay Avionics.
What a wonderful feeling to fly with all the gadgets working as advertised.
Flying is so many parts skill, so many parts planning, so many parts maintenance, and so many parts luck.
The trick is to reduce the luck by increasing the others.
- David L.
Baker
Every now and then you would pick up on some pearls of wisdom at the bar.
There were many survival sound bites I adopted over the years.
For instance, there are three people you can not piss off; your crew chief, the boss's secretary and the gate guard.
I think the second two are obvious.
However, the art of building a solid relationship with the maintenance troops was the difference between confidently pushing the edge of the envelope and not getting out of the chocks.
Pilots and airframes come and go while savvy mechanics are the backbone of the flying organization.
Once a pilot became mission ready in a squadron, their name was painted on the side of the jet with the dedicated crew chief that maintained the jet.
It was a good feeling.
We did not always get to fly "our jet".
But any time it was close in the line-up, most of us would jockey for position to fly the bird with our name on it.
There were some unwritten rules among pilots and crew chiefs.
For example, if I did anything to cause a safety issue or extra work I quickly responded with a case of beer.
It was more about pride, discipline and attention to detail.
Some of the 'gotchas' were leaving the ejection seat armed, master arm switch not safe, air refueling door opened, leaving classified tapes in the recorder and not following hand signals while people were attending to the jet.
Sometimes it meant owning up to something that occurred in flight like pulling excessive G's or dropping something in the cockpit you could not recover.
When we returned from a mission we were required to call into the squadron our maintenance codes.
Code 1 meant everything was fine.
All she needed was gas and weapons.
Code 2 was for minor maintenance issues.
She can go to battle but not everything is working perfectly.
Finally, there was Code 3.
This was a show stopper.
Calling in a maintenance code seems simple but there was quite an art to it.
You did not want to take the jet out of the lineup.
More importantly you did not want to place your fellow aviator flying the jet next in any danger.
As you can imagine, there was room for interpretation on the "health" of the jet when calling in codes.
Crew chiefs were recognized for percentage of Code 1 squawks.
Picky pilots were not popular.
Likewise there was no tolerance for poor integrity.
As is the case with many things in life, once you know the rules you can play the game.
Many of us relied on the relationship of our crew chief to keep us going.
For example, even though I called in a code 1; when I shut down my number 2 engine as I was coming into the hotpit earlier than required, the crew chief knew to grab a headset and find out what he needed to fix.
This is the stuff they don't teach you in flight school.
As an aircraft owner in general aviation you need a good crew chief.
Sometimes it is yourself, other times you may fly your plane long distances to seek the workmanship of top talent.
Along the way I have found out that I can not always fly Code 1 in my own airplane.
Clearly all AD's and required maintenance procedures are complied with.
It's the nuisance items that continue to linger until you have them fixed during routine maintenance or you finally throw in the towel and get them resolved.
I'm sure many of you can relate with my plight.
My first squawk was an intermittent intercom in the backseat.
Then there was the glideslope off flag.
ILS tracked perfectly except for this glaring off flag.
So now I'm thinking that I don't really like to fly with 4 people, even if I do they can share headsets.
Like most IFR pilots, I spend an inordinate amount of time avoiding the weather so the off flag is not critical.
Besides, localizer mins are scary enough.
Next the #2 radio decided to quit transmitting.
Again, not a big deal, I have 2 radios and the second is used for catching up on the weather, listening to traffic and checking ATIS or AWOS.
Finally there was the leak in my pitot static line that caused airspeed to indicate 20-30 kts slower than actual.
Even though I have GPS backup, this one could cause bodily harm and needed action.
Unfortunately my FBO does not have an avionics shop.
In fact, we've struggled to keep a good mechanic on the ramp.
It was time to pull the trigger on a recommendation from a fellow pilot.
Bay Avionics at Hampton Roads Executive Airport (KPVG) would prove to be a very enjoyable experience.
I played hooky from my day job and set a course for southeastern Virginia.
Ronnie, Jim and Steve diligently worked my airplane issues and explained what they found.
In no time, I was all buttoned up and ready to go.
The pitot static system was leaking from the connection behind the airspeed indicator.
Additionally, when we blew out the pitot tube, some uninvited guest left a grease spot on my wing.
The glideslope off flag appeared to need a little love from the vast array of bench testing equipment and was no longer sticking.
Number 2 radio required a replacement part.
The intercom problem was a loose wire.
In no time I was code 1.
Best of all, the price tag for this avionics overhaul was less than $175 including a great lunch at the airport café.
Ronnie loves wires and how things work.
He runs a modest business and does not fly.
His passion outside of work is boats.
Jim had an uncanny ability to look at the soul of a radio and know what was ailing it before hooking it up to the testing equipment.
Steve shared his knowledge about the gorgeous Alaskan landscape where he worked on floatplanes prior to relocating to Virginia.
I'm not sure which one of us was the most excited about fixing my airplane after it was all done.
On the return trip I was elated and reflected on the great experience at Bay Avionics.
What a wonderful feeling to fly with all the gadgets working as advertised.
Flying is so many parts skill, so many parts planning, so many parts maintenance, and so many parts luck.
The trick is to reduce the luck by increasing the others.
- David L.
Baker
