Perhaps nothing gets our attention faster than smoke in an airplane. It’s so serious because there are very few places to run and hide. I’ve had a couple of experiences that I reflected upon recently after I smelled something burning in my Mustang. Nothing drastic, just a wisp of something not quite right after shutting down the airplane. It was a smell similar to a burning candle. After the first shutdown, I dismissed it as an “airport smell.” The kind of thing you experience on the ramp near any kerosene guzzling aircraft.
I remembered flying a Falcon 10 years ago and smelling burning electrical fumes right after takeoff. We turned around to look in the cabin and noticed smoke coming from the coffee pot heater. A quick push of the on/off switch resolved the issue. Several years later, in a Falcon 50, it was more serious.
Right after takeoff with a load of passengers, smoke began entering the cabin. I was on the jump seat for this flight. A carbon seal on one of the three engines had broken, allowing combustion air to slowly fill the space. The passengers were notably upset. They hunkered down to get below the layer of smoke. The crew declared an emergency and reduced power on one engine. The fumes subsided and we made an unscheduled quick landing. It was only years later that one of my employees on the flight told me that he went immediately into the men’s room after the incident and heaved his lunch.
So, as I looked for the source of the Mustang fumes after the second flight, I was informed from my previous experiences. This smell never appeared in the cockpit, only near the cabin door after shutdown. An electrical issue seemed unlikely. Perhaps an engine bleed air leak. Maybe it would just go away, I thought.
I really wanted it to go away because I had an important flight the next day attending our Citation Jet Pilot’s Safety Committee meeting in Scottsdale, Arizona. My pilot buddies would all be in attendance with their jets. I absolutely had to be there in mine.
Yet, I couldn’t get my head around that smell. What if it was something more serious? What if I took off in low IMC and had a real emergency? The forecast departure weather was 300 and 1. I paced the floor trying to rationalize the risk.
In the end, I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t safe. I grounded the airplane, called maintenance, and spent most of the next day waiting in packed airline terminals for departures.
I was depressed. I bought an airplane to take me where I want to go on my exact schedule. But I concluded that the risk of making that flight with an unknown problem exceeded the reward.
The mechanics found a few small strands of carpeting from my new interior in the heating ducts that produced the burning smell and quickly resolved the issue. I made the right decision.
And I will live to “flight” another day.
Fly safe.
