A couple of years ago, when I lived in Singapore, I used to fly a lot to Kuala Lumpur in Malaysia. I was a member of the Republic of Singapore Fying Club the oldest flying club in Singapore), and they had two Socata TB9s and one TB200. Never quite got that latter type designation, but it was very much like a TB10, in that it's fixed gear but a variable prop (the TB9 is the fixed prop trainer version). I like Socata's - they are French and it feels like you're stepping into a Peugeot, which brings back fond childhood memories of our puke-green, 12 year old, hand-shifted Peugeot 405 Break, that required artful mastery of the pedals and the choke to get it running, and any time in the first 20 minutes after start when you were trying to run it idle (like: at a stop light)! Masters of technology! My dad to this day claims it was his favorite car though, so they must have done something right. I've only had the privilege to drive it a few times just when I got my license, so suffice to say my love for it was not as great as my dad's, having stalled it many many times in awkward situations!
I digress. The trip to Kuala Lumpur is fascinating, and also predominantly over jungle and palm tree plantations. Not the best place to try to put down an airplane. It's also subject to notoriously bad thunderstorms and requires flight very near mountain ridges, but more on those adventures in another post.
The flight is only about two and a half hours, but because it is international, it requires a LOT of weird steps. Starting up for taxi, you ask the tower for taxi clearance to immigration, just across the field on the other side of the runway. There, you shut down, get out, and drop 1 copy of your flight manifest and flight plan at immigration, 1 at the airport administration (where you pay your fees for international flight, including per passenger charges), and 2 at the national security office (you slip it under the door - there is never anyone there). You then go 'through' immigration and security check, and walk back out the same door you came in through! Back on tarmac, you walk to the tower for a weather briefing and a look at the all important weather radar. It's range is only about 80 miles, but it's the only thing you have to see those monster thunderstorms, so you better take a look at what's there. The forecast will tell you that there are TCB (thunderstorms) because there always are (every day at around 3 pm it rains in Singapore - we joke that the evening weather forecast is a replay from the 70s, as it really never changes!). The forecast therefore isn't much use, hence the visual and radar inspection of the skies. You walk back to the plane, and this time, because it is an international flight, you need to request start-up clearance before you start your engine, lest you speed off and do nasty things.
The above is the same as usual (and you get pretty fluent at it, after a while - I had a series of PowerPoint files set up where I could simply enter flight manifest and flight plan details and print the requisite number of copies off). This time, after starting I thought the engine sounded a little strange (a little tinny and clanking), but after checking this without my headset on I shrugged it off as due to the noise reduction circuitry in my LightSpeed 20XL. That circuitry does do funny things with sound sometimes, especially when it is not quite sealed at the ears. Similar tinny sound at run-up, but since there really was nothing there, I decided to take off.
The beginning of the flight was uneventful, so much so that I began to feel a little sleepy. I found myself losing my concentration, and made a point of perking up and very explicitly scanning the skies. That helped a little, but not enough, so I decided to open the vents and let some cooler air stream in my face (hard at 2 degrees latitude, by the way) and things were OK. I arrived safely at the old Kuala Lumpur international airport (now used only for domestic airline flights and GA), and taxied to my designated parking spot. There, I was awaited by the handler guy with his mini-van (another weird thing: you have to go through a handler to get through customs and immigration if you come in by private plane), and as I got out the plane, he pointed to the cowling and asked what had happened. I looked, and found that a hole the size of a quarter had burned through the cowling (evidently it was made of glass fiber or something like that), with black, molten stuff streaming backwards from there. Turned out the exhaust had cracked (Aha! The tinny clanking sound!) and the hot exhaust gasses had burned through the cowling like a blow-torch. Amazing. In addition, I suspect that the exhaust gasses had somehow found their way into the venting system and the cabin, explaining my weariness and sleepiness. Fortunately, it was only a little, but a scary thought nonetheless.
Obviously, I was back by scheduled airliner, and picked up the plane on a subsequent trip a week later (with a brand new exhaust pipe and cowling). A good reminder to act if something sounds off - not to shrug it off. I have subsequently aborted a take-off in the same plane because the controls felt unusually stiff during the take-off roll, as a precaution. It's the only time I have every aborted a take-off, but I still feel good about that decision in the wake of the earlier experience. Better safe than sorry, especially in aviation!
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