Groundhog Day. . .

March 15, 2013, Union, SC.  Oil on the belly. . .

Tracking down the source of an oil leak can be as frustrating as trying to find the headwaters of a leaky roof; maybe more so.  Even a small amount of oil can make a big mess---all of which has to be cleaned before any kind of search can begin.  We use the wash and dye method at Jellystone Air Park:  The engine is washed, and then dye is added to the oil.  This is done so that after run-up, a bunch of guys with bad eyesight can probe the engine compartment with flashlights in a dark hangar.  Thus it was determined; all four cylinder base seals on 43 Bravo were oozing oil---not much, but enough to be more than just aggravating.  They needed to be replaced.  Not a terribly difficult job; but one that can lead to a deep, dark, endless hole in the ground. . .

Under the watchful eye of our expert mechanic, cylinders were honed, valves were lapped, and new piston rings were installed.  The overhauled cylinders were mounted with shiny new base seals that didn't leak after run-up.  Brother Baker was pleased.  There was order in the universe.  All was right in the world---so we thought.

In March, after a short flight to Union, South Carolina, we noticed a trail of oil on the bottom of the fuselage.  It stretched from ten inches aft of the breather tube all the way back to the tail wheel.  Our thoughts at the time:  Maybe the rings still need to seat. . .  Not too concerned, we added a quart of oil and flew back to Rock Hill.  After shutdown we checked the oil.  It was a quart low.  Total flight time for our trip down to Union, and back, was only one hour and ten minutes.  Even a former student athlete knows a blow-by rate of two quarts per hour is excessive.  We were concerned!

Experts were consulted.  Scientific tests were conducted---compression was checked through the complete cycle on each cylinder.  When the number three piston was at the bottom of it's cycle, the pressure release could be heard through the breather.  Eureka!  Time to spend some real money!

Putt-Putt II, the Zimmer & Son Cessna 150 was available for use.  While yours truly was out flying the line, Brother Baker and young Benny Zimmer delivered the offending #3 cylinder to the engine shop in Burlington, North Carolina.  After a quick inspection, the head honcho (according to Joe) removed a giant wad of chewing tobacco and said:  "No problem Mr. Baker, give us three days and it'll be good as new!"  True to his word, #3 was ready in three days.  Brother Baker however, was not.  On reserve, he was called for a trip.  We picked up the cylinder five days later, in the silver Tacoma.  It looked nice!  So did the shop.  Head honcho gave us the $330 tour. . .  Twenty minutes, and three wads of tobacco later (I thought Joe was kidding) we were on our way home.  A few days later #3 was back in place and 43 Bravo was ready to roll---so we thought.

Unity Airfield

Brother Baker and I decided we would fly a few circuits around the traffic pattern, and then if things looked good (meaning oil pressure) we would venture over to Unity Airfield, and check the progress on Les Kanna's Onex project---maybe even have lunch!  Unity Airfield is fifteen minutes southeast of Jellystone Air Park.  I took the first leg.  Everything looked good in the pattern, so off we went.  About four minutes out from Les' place we (thought) we detected a slight drop in oil pressure.  Sure enough, after shutdown there was oil on bottom of the fuselage.  But not as much, so maybe things were getting better.

Les & Joe with the Onex, April 11, 2013.

After lunch we added a quart of oil and launched for Jellystone Air Park.  On this leg Joe did the flying---my eyes were glued to the oil pressure gage!  About five minutes from touchdown the oil pressure slowly began to fall.  Not a good sign.  It took fifteen minutes to wipe the oil from the bottom of the fuselage.  One month in to this saga; we were two months past Groundhog Day---but that's where we were!

More experts were consulted.  "Fly it!  See if the rings will seat."  So we dumped a little more oil on York County. . .  "You might have glazed the cylinders."  That was a possibility.  There is conflicting literature on breaking in engines.  Owner, mechanic, and assistant; we were all scratching our heads---the more we thought about it, the more we thought we probably glazed the cylinders during the initial run-up.  We took it apart, cleaned it all up, and put it back together, again.

All smiles, before the oil pressure drop. . .

Then we circled the Rock Hill Airport for twenty minutes.  Joe flew, I chanted:  "Omni, Omni, NDB. . ."  At the ten minute mark, the oil pressure began to drop.  At the twenty minute mark, we landed.  We added a couple quarts of oil and tried it again.  Groundhog Day. . .  Obviously, throwing oil at the problem wasn't going to work.  "Maybe we screwed up the rings?"  Quite possible, so we ordered new rings. . .

Last week---two and a half months after we started this project---the team assembled.  We took it apart, cleaned it all up, and put it back together (sigh) again.

Tuesday morning I received a text message from Brother Baker.  "Two quarts blown by in FIFTEEN minutes.  Can I swear now?"

I swear it's Groundhog Day. . .