Posts Tagged ‘reliability’

What Makes an Engine Airworthy?

Wednesday, July 2nd, 2014

If we’re going to disregard manufacturer’s TBO (as I have advocated in earlier blog posts), how do we assess whether a piston aircraft engine continues to be airworthy and when it’s time to do an on-condition top or major overhaul? Compression tests and oil consumption are part of the story, but a much smaller part than most owners and mechanics think.

Bob Moseley

James Robert “Bob” Moseley (1948-2011)

My late friend Bob Moseley was far too humble to call himself a guru, but he knew as much about piston aircraft engines as anyone I’ve ever met. That’s not surprising because he overhauled Continental and Lycoming engines for four decades; there’s not much about these engines that he hadn’t seen, done, and learned.

From 1993 and 1998, “Mose” (as his friends called him) worked for Continental Motors as a field technical representative. He was an airframe and powerplant mechanic (A&P) with inspection authorization (IA) and a FAA-designated airworthiness representative (DAR). He was generous to a fault when it came to sharing his expertise. In that vein, he was a frequent presenter at annual IA renewal seminars.

Which Engine Is Airworthy?

During these seminars, Mose would often challenge a roomful of hundreds of A&P/IA mechanics with a hypothetical scenario that went something like this:

Four good-looking fellows, coincidentally all named Bob, are hanging out at the local Starbucks near the airport one morning, enjoying their usual cappuccinos and biscotti. Remarkably enough, all four Bobs own identical Bonanzas, all with Continental IO-550 engines. Even more remarkable, all four engines have identical calendar times and operating hours.

While sipping their overpriced coffees, the four Bobs start comparing notes. Bob One brags that his engine only uses one quart of oil between 50-hour oil changes, and his compressions are all 75/80 or better. Bob Two says his engine uses a quart every 18 hours, and his compressions are in the low 60s. Bob Three says his engine uses a quart every 8 hours and his compressions are in the high 50s. Bob Four says his compressions are in the low 50s and he adds a quart every 4 hours.

Who has the most airworthy engine? And why?

Compression/Oil Level

Don’t place too much emphasis on compression test readings as a measure of engine airworthiness. An engine can have low compression readings while continuing to run smoothly and reliably and make full power to TBO and beyond. Oil consumption is an even less important factor. As long as you don’t run out of oil before you run out of fuel, you’re fine.

This invariably provoked a vigorous discussion among the IAs. One faction typically thought that Bob One’s engine was best. Another usually opined that Bobs Two and Three had the best engines, and that the ultra-low oil consumption of Bob One’s engine was indicative of insufficient upper cylinder lubrication and a likely precursor to premature cylinder wear. All the IAs agreed Bob Four’s was worst.

Mose took the position that with nothing more than the given information about compression readings and oil consumption, he considered all four engines equally airworthy. While many people think that ultra-low oil consumption may correlate with accelerated cylinder wear, Continental’s research doesn’t bear this out, and Mose knew of some engines that went to TBO with very low oil consumption all the way to the end.

While the low compressions and high oil consumption of Bob Four’s engine might suggest impending cylinder problems, Mose said that in his experience engines that exhibit a drop in compression and increase in oil consumption after several hundred hours may still make TBO without cylinder replacement. “There’s a Twin Bonanza that I take care of, one of whose engines lost compression within the first 300 hours after overhaul,” Mose once told me. “The engine is now at 900 hours and the best cylinder measures around 48/80. But the powerplant is running smooth, making full rated power, no leaks, and showing all indications of being a happy engine. It has never had a cylinder off, and I see no reason it shouldn’t make TBO.”

Lesson of a Lawn Mower

To put these issues of compression and oil consumption in perspective, Mose liked to tell the story of an engine that was not from Continental or Lycoming but from Briggs & Stratton:

Snapper Lawnmower

If this one-cylinder engine can perform well while using a quart of oil an hour, surely an aircraft engine with 50 times the displacement can, too.

Years ago, I had a Snapper lawn mower with an 8 horsepower Briggs on it. I purchased it used, so I don’t know anything about its prior history. But it ran good, and I used and abused it for about four years, mowing three acres of very hilly, rough ground every summer.

The fifth year I owned this mower, the engine started using oil. By the end of the summer, it was using about 1/2 quart in two hours of mowing. If I wasn’t careful, I could run out of oil before I ran out of gas, because the sump only held about a quart when full. The engine still ran great, mowed like new, although it did smoke a little each time I started it.

The sixth year, things got progressively worse, just as you might expect. By the end of the summer, it was obvious that this engine was getting really tired. It still ran okay, would pull the hills, and would mow at the same speed if the grass wasn’t too tall. But it got to the point that it was using a quart of oil every hour, and was becoming quite difficult to start. The compression during start was so low (essentially nil) that sometimes I had to spray ether into the carb to get the engine to start. It also started leaking combustion gases around the head bolts, and would blow bubbles if I sprayed soapy water on the head while it was running. In fact, the mower became somewhat useful as a fogger for controlling mosquitoes. But it still made power and would only foul its spark plug a couple of times during the season when things got really bad.

Now keep in mind that this engine was rated at just 8 horsepower and had just one cylinder with displacement roughly the size of a coffee cup, was using one quart of oil per hour, and had zilch compression. Compare that to an IO-550 with six cylinders, each with a 5.25-inch bore. Do you suppose that oil consumption of one quart per hour or compression of 40/80 would have any measurable effect on an IO-550’s power output or reliability—in other words, its airworthiness? Not likely.

In fact, Continental Motors actually ran a dynamometer test on an IO-550 whose compression ring gaps had been filed oversize to intentionally reduce compression on all cylinders to 40/80, and it made full rated power.

Common Sense 101Let’s Use Common Sense

I really like Mose’s commonsense approach to aircraft engines. Whether we’re owners or mechanics (or both), we would do well to avoid getting preoccupied with arbitrary measurements like compression readings and oil consumption that have relatively little correlation with true airworthiness.

Instead, we should focus on the stuff that’s really important: Is the engine “making metal”? Are there any cracks in the cylinder heads or crankcase? Any exhaust leaks, fuel leaks, or serious oil leaks? Most importantly, does the engine seem to be running rough or falling short of making full rated power?

If the answer to all of those questions is no, then we can be reasonably sure that our engine is airworthy and we can fly behind it with well-deserved confidence.

On-Condition Maintenance

The smart way to deal with engine maintenance—including deciding when to overhaul—is to do it “on-condition” rather than on a fixed timetable. This means that we use all available condition-monitoring tools to monitor the engine’s health, and let the engine itself tell us when maintenance is required. This is how the airlines and military have been doing it for decades.

Digital borescope (Adrian Eichhorn)

Digital borescopes and digital engine monitors have revolutionized piston aircraft engine condition monitoring.

For our piston aircraft engines, we have a marvelous multiplicity of condition-monitoring tools at our disposal. They include:

  • Oil filter visual inspection
  • Oil filter scanning electron microscopy (SEM)
  • Spectrographic oil analysis programs (SOAP)
  • Digital engine monitor data analysis
  • Borescope inspection
  • Differential compression test
  • Visual crankcase inspection
  • Visual cylinder head inspection
  • Oil consumption trend analysis
  • Oil pressure trend analysis

If we use all these tools on an appropriately frequent basis and understand how to interpret the results, we can be confident that we know whether the engine is healthy or not—and if not, what kind of maintenance action is necessary to restore it to health.

The moment you abandon the TBO concept and decide to make your maintenance decisions on-condition, you take on an obligation to use these tools—all of them—and pay close attention to what they’re telling you. Unfortunately, many owners and mechanics don’t understand how to use these tools appropriately or to interpret the results properly.

When Is It Time to Overhaul?

It takes something pretty serious before it’s time to send the engine off to an engine shop for teardown—or to replace it with an exchange engine. Here’s a list of the sort of findings that would prompt me to recommend that “the time has come”:

Lycoming cam and lifter

Badly damaged cam lobe found during cylinder removal. “It’s time!”

  • An unacceptably large quantity of visible metal in the oil filter; unless the quantity is very large, we’ll often wait until we’ve seen metal in the filter for several shortened oil-change intervals.
  • A crankcase crack that exceeds acceptable limits, particularly if it’s leaking oil.
  • A serious oil leak (e.g., at the crankcase parting seam) that cannot be corrected without splitting the case.
  • An obviously unairworthy condition observed via direct visual inspection (e.g., a bad cam lobe observed during cylinder or lifter removal).
  • A prop strike, serious overspeed, or other similar event that clearly requires a teardown inspection in accordance with engine manufacturer’s guidance.

Avoid getting preoccupied with compression readings and oil consumption that have relatively little correlation with true airworthiness. Ignore published TBO (a thoroughly discredited concept), maintain your engine on-condition, make sure you use all the available condition-monitoring tools, make sure you know how to interpret the results (or consult with someone who does), and don’t overreact to a single bad oil report or a little metal in the filter.

Using this reliability-centered approach to engine maintenance, my Savvy team and I have helped hundreds of  aircraft owners obtain the maximum useful life from their engines, saving them a great deal of money, downtime and hassle. And we haven’t had one fall out of the sky yet.

The Dark Side of Maintenance

Tuesday, June 10th, 2014

The Dark SideHave you ever put your airplane in the shop—perhaps for an annual inspection, a squawk, or a routine oil change—only to find when you fly it for the first time after maintenance that something that was working fine no longer does?  Every aircraft owner has had this happen. I sure have.

Maintenance has a dark side that isn’t usually discussed in polite company: It sometimes breaks aircraft instead of fixing them.

When something in an aircraft fails because of something a mechanic did—or failed to do—we refer to it as a “maintenance-induced failure”…or “MIF” for short. Such MIFs occur a lot more often than anyone cares to admit.

Why do high-time engines fail?

I started thinking seriously about MIFs in 2007 while corresponding with Nathan Ulrich Ph.D. about his ground-breaking research into the causes of catastrophic piston aircraft engine failures (based on five years’ worth of NTSB accident data) that I discussed in an earlier post. Dr. Ulrich’s analysis showed conclusively that by far the highest risk of catastrophic engine failure occurs when the engine is young—during the first two years and 200 hours after it is built, rebuilt or overhauled—due to “infant-mortality failures.”

But the NTSB data was of little statistical value in analyzing the failure risk of high-time engines beyond TBO, simply because so few engines are operated past TBO; most are arbitrarily euthanized at TBO. We don’t have good data on how many engines are flying past TBO, but it’s a relatively small number. So it’s s no surprise that the NTSB database contains very few accidents attributed to failures of over-TBO engines. Because there are so few, Ulrich and I decided to study all such NTSB reports for 2001 through 2005 to see if we could detect some pattern of what made these high-time engines fail. Sure enough, we did detect a pattern.

About half the reported failures of past-TBO engines stated that the reason for the engine failure could not be determined by investigators. Of the half where the cause could be determined, we found that about 80% were MIFs. In other words, those engines failed not because they were past TBO, but because mechanics worked on the engines and screwed something up!

Sheared Camshaft Bevel GearCase in point: I received a call from an aircraft owner whose Bonanza was undergoing annual inspection. The shop convinced the owner to have his propeller and prop governor sent out for 6-year overhauls. (Had the owner asked my advice, I’d have urged him not to do this, but that’s another story for another blog post.)

The overhauled prop and governor came back from the prop shop and were reinstalled. The mechanic had trouble getting the prop to cycle properly, and he wound up removing and reinstalling the governor three times. During the third engine runup, the the prop still wouldn’t cycle properly. The mechanic decided to take the airplane up on a test flight anyway (!) which resulted in an engine overspeed. The mechanic then removed the prop governor yet again and discovered that the governor drive wasn’t turning when the crankshaft was rotated.

I told the owner that I’d seen this before, and the cause was always the same: improper installation of the prop governor. If the splined drive and gears aren’t meshed properly before the governor is torqued, the camshaft gear is damaged, and the only fix is a teardown. (A couple of engine shops and a Continental tech rep all told the owner the same thing.)

This could turn out to be a $20,000 MIF. Ouch!

How often do MIFs happen?

They happen a lot. Hardly a day goes by that I don’t receive an email or a phone call from an exasperated owner complaining about some aircraft problem that is obviously a MIF.

A Cessna 182 owner emailed me that several months earlier, he’d put the plane in the shop for an oil change and installation of an STC’d exhaust fairing. A couple of months later, he decided to have a digital engine monitor installed. The new engine monitor revealed that the right bank of cylinders (#1, #3 and #5) all had very high CHTs well above 400°F. This had not shown up on the factory CHT gauge because its probe was installed on cylinder #2. (Every piston aircraft should have an engine monitor IMHO.) At the next annual inspection at a different shop, the IA discovered found some induction airbox seals missing, apparently left off when the exhaust fairing was installed. The seals were installed and CHTs returned to normal.

Sadly, the problem wasn’t caught early enough to prevent serious heat-related damage to the right-bank cylinders. All three jugs had compressions down in the 30s with leakage past the rings, and visible damage to the cylinder bores was visible under the borescope. The owner was faced with replacing three cylinders, around $6,000.

Sandel SN3308The next day, I heard from the owner of an older Cirrus SR22 complaining about intermittent heading errors on his Sandel SN3308 electronic HSI. These problems started occurring intermittently about three years earlier when the shop pull the instrument for a scheduled 200-hour lamp replacement.

Coincidence?

I’ve seen this in my own Sandel-equipped Cessna 310, and it’s invariably due to inadequate engagement between the connectors on the back of the instrument and the mating connectors in the mounting tray. You must slide the instrument into the tray just as far as possible before tightening the clamp; otherwise, you’ve set the stage for flaky electrical problems. This poor Cirrus owner had been suffering the consequences for three years. It took five minutes to re-rack the instrument and cure the problem.

Pitot-Static PlumbingNot long after that, I got a panicked phone call from one of my managed-maintenance clients who’d departed into actual IMC in his Cessna 340 with his family on board on the first flight after some minor avionics work. (Not smart IMHO.) As he entered the clag and climbed through 3,000 feet, all three of his static instruments—airspeed, altimeter, VSI—quit cold. Switching to alternate static didn’t cure the problem. The pilot kept his cool, confessed his predicament to ATC, successfully shot an ILS back to his home airport, then called me.

The moment I heard the symptoms, I knew exactly what happened because I’d seen it before. “Take the airplane back to the avionics shop,” I told the owner,  “and ask the tech to reconnect the static line that he disconnected.” A disconnected static line in a pressurized aircraft causes the static instruments to be referenced to cabin pressure. The moment the cabin pressurizes, those instruments stop working. MIF!

I know of at least three other similar incidents in pressurized singles and twins, all caused by failure of a mechanic to reconnect a disconnected static line. One resulted in a fatal accident, the others in underwear changes. The FARs require a static system leak test any time the static system is opened up, but clearly some technicians are not taking this seriously.

Causes of Accidents

Why do MIFs happen?

Numerous studies indicate that three-quarters of accidents are the fault of the pilot. The remaining one-quarter are machine-caused, and those are just about evenly divided between ones caused by aircraft design flaws  and ones caused by MIFs. That suggests one-eighth of accidents are maintenance-induced, a significant number.

The lion’s share of MIFs are errors of omission. These include fasteners left uninstalled or untightened, inspection panels left loose, fuel and oil caps left off, things left disconnected (e.g., static lines), and other reassembly tasks left undone.

Distractions play a big part in many of these omissions. A mechanic installs some fasteners finger-tight, then gets a phone call or goes on lunch break and forgets to finish the job by torqueing the fasteners. I have seen some of the best, most experienced mechanics I know fall victim to such seemingly rookie mistakes, and I know of several fatal accidents caused by such omissions.

Maintenance is invasive!

Whenever a mechanic takes something apart and puts it back together, there’s a risk that something won’t go back together quite right. Some procedures are more invasive than others, and invasive maintenance is especially risky.

Invasiveness is something we think about a lot in medicine. The standard treatment for gallstones used to be cholecystectomy (gall bladder removal), major abdominal surgery requiring a 5- to 8-inch incision. Recovery involved a week of hospitalization and several weeks of recovery at home. The risks were significant: My dad very nearly died as the result of complications following this procedure.

Nowadays there’s a far less invasive procedure—laproscopic cholecystectomy—that involves three tiny incisions and performed using a videoscope inserted through one incision and various microsurgery instruments inserted through the others. It is far less invasive than the open procedure. Recovery usually involves only one night in the hospital and a few days at home. The risk of complications is greatly reduced.

Similarly, some aircraft maintenance procedures are far more invasive than others. The more invasive the maintenance, the greater the risk of a MIF. When considering any maintenance task, we should always think carefully about how invasive it is, whether the benefit of performing the procedure is really worth the risk, and whether less invasive alternatives are available.

Ryan Stark of Blackstone LabsFor example, I was contacted by an aircraft owner who said that he’d recently received an oil analysis report showing an alarming increase in iron. The oil filter on his Continental IO-520 showed no visible metal. The lab report suggested flying another 25 hours and then submitting another oil sample for analysis.

The owner showed the oil analysis report to his A&P, who expressed grave concern that the elevated iron might indicate that one or more cam lobes were coming apart. The mechanic suggested pulling one or two cylinders and inspecting the camshaft.

Yikes! What was this mechanic thinking? No airplane has ever fallen out of the sky because of a cam or lifter problem. Many have done so following cylinder removal, the second most invasive thing you can do to an engine. (Only teardown is more invasive.)

The owner wisely decided to seek a second opinion before authorizing this exploratory surgery. I told him the elevated iron was almost certainly NOT due to cam lobe spalling. A disintegrating cam lobe throws off fairly large steel particles or whiskers that are usually visible during oil filter inspection. The fact that the oil filter was clean suggested that the elevated iron was coming from microscopic metal particles less than 25 microns in diameter, too small to be detectable in a filter inspection, but easily detectable via oil analysis. Such tiny particles were probably coming either from light rust on the cylinder walls or from some very slow wear process.

I suggested the owner have a borescope inspection of his cylinders to see whether the bores showed evidence of rust. I also advised that no invasive procedure (like cylinder removal) should ever be undertaken solely on the basis of a single oil analysis report. The oil lab was spot-on in recommending that the aircraft be flown another 25 hours. The A&P wasn’t thinking clearly.

Even if a cam inspection was warranted, there’s a far less invasive method. Instead of a 10-hour cylinder removal, the mechanic could pull the intake and exhaust lifters, and then determine the condition of the cam by inspecting it with a borescope through the lifter boss and, if warranted, probing the cam lobe with a sharp pick. Not only would this procedure require just 15% as much labor, but the risk of a MIF would be nil.

Sometimes, less is more

Many owners believe—and many mechanics preach—that preventive maintenance is inherently a good thing, and the more of it you do the better. I consider this wrongheaded. Mechanics often do far more preventive maintenance than necessary and often do it using unnecessarily invasive procedures, thereby increasing the likelihood that their efforts will actually cause failures rather than preventing them.
Mac Smith RCM Seminar DVDAnother of my earlier posts discussed Reliability-Centered Maintenance (RCM) developed at United Airlines in the late 1960s, and universally adopted by the airlines and the military during the 1970s. One of the major findings of RCM researchers was that preventive maintenance often does more harm than good, and that safety and reliability can often be improved dramatically by reducing the amount of PM and using minimally invasive techniques.

Unfortunately, this thinking doesn’t seem to have trickled down to piston GA, and is considered heresy by many GA mechanics because it contradicts everything they were taught in A&P school. The long-term solution is for GA mechanics to be trained in RCM principles, but that’s not likely to happen any time soon. In the short term, aircraft owners must think carefully before authorizing an A&P to perform invasive maintenance on their aircraft. When in doubt, get a second opinion.

The last line of defense

The most likely time for a mechanical failure to occur is the first flight after maintenance. Since the risk of such MIFs is substantial, it’s imperative that owners conduct a post-maintenance test flight—in VMC , without passengers, preferably close to the airport—before launching into the clag or putting passengers at risk. I think even the most innocuous maintenance task—even a routine oil change—deserves such a post-maintenance test flight. I do this any time I swing a wrench on my airplane.

You should, too.

Roots of Reliability-Centered Maintenance

Tuesday, February 11th, 2014

Last month, I discussed the pioneering WWII-era work of the eminent British scientist C.H. Waddington, who discovered that the scheduled preventive maintenance (PM) being performed on RAF B-24 bombers was actually doing more harm than good, and that drastically cutting back on such PM resulted in spectacular improvement in dispatch reliability of those aircraft. Two decades later, a pair of brilliant American engineers at United Airlines—Stan Nowlan and Howard Heap—independently rediscovered the utter wrongheadedness of traditional scheduled PM, and took things to the next level by formulating a rigorous engineering methodology for creating an optimal maintenance program to maximize safety and dispatch reliability while minimizing cost and downtime. Their approach became known as “Reliability-Centered Maintenance” (RCM), and revolutionized the way maintenance is done in the airline industry, military aviation, high-end bizjets, space flight, and numerous non-aviation applications from nuclear power plants to auto factories.

RCM wear-out curve

The traditional approach to PM assumes that most components start out reliable, and then at some point start becoming unreliable as they age

The “useful life” fallacy

Nowlan and Heap showed the fallacy of two fundamental principles underlying traditional scheduled PM:

  • Components start off being reliable, but their reliability deteriorates with age.
  • The useful life of components can be established statistically, so components can be retired or overhauled before they fail.

It turns out that both of these principles are wrong. To quote Nowlan and Heap:

“One of the underlying assumptions of maintenance theory has always been that there is a fundamental cause-and-effect relationship between scheduled maintenance and operating reliability. This assumption was based on the intuitive belief that because mechanical parts wear out, the reliability of any equipment is directly related to operating age. It therefore followed that the more frequently equipment was overhauled, the better protected it was against the likelihood of failure. The only problem was in determining what age limit was necessary to assure reliable operation. “In the case of aircraft it was also commonly assumed that all reliability problems were directly related to operating safety. Over the years, however, it was found that many types of failures could not be prevented no matter how intensive the maintenance activities. [Aircraft] designers were able to cope with this problem, not by preventing failures, but by preventing such failures from affecting safety. In most aircraft essential functions are protected by redundancy features which ensure that, in the event of a failure, the necessary function will still be available from some other source.

RCM six curves

RCM researchers found that only 2% of aircraft components have failures that are predominantly age-related (curve B), and that 68% have failures that are primarily infant mortality (curve F).

“Despite the time-honored belief that reliability was directly related to the intervals between scheduled overhauls, searching studies based on actuarial analysis of failure data suggested that the traditional hard-time policies were, apart from their expense, ineffective in controlling failure rates. This was not because the intervals were not short enough, and surely not because the tear down inspections were not sufficiently thorough. Rather, it was because, contrary to expectations, for many items the likelihood of failure did not in fact increase with increasing age. Consequently a maintenance policy based exclusively on some maximum operating age would, no matter what the age limit, have little or no effect on the failure rate.”

[F. Stanley Nowlan and Howard F. Heap, “Reliability-Centered Maintenance” 1978, DoD Report Number AD-A066579.]

Winning the war by picking our battles

FMEAAnother traditional maintenance fallacy was the intuitive notion that aircraft component failures are dangerous and need to be prevented through PM. A major focus of RCM was to identify the ways that various components fail, and then evaluate the frequency and consequences of those failures. This is known as “Failure Modes and Effects Analysis” (FMEA). Researchers found that while certain failure modes have serious consequences that can compromise safety (e.g., a cracked wing spar), the overwhelming majority of component failures have no safety impact and have consequences that are quite acceptable (e.g., a failed #2 comm radio or #3 hydraulic pump). Under the RCM philosophy, it makes no sense whatsoever to perform PM on components whose failure has acceptable consequences; the optimal maintenance approach for such components is simply to leave them alone, wait until they fail, and then replace or repair them when they do. This strategy is known as “run to failure” and is a major tenet of RCM.

A maintenance revolution…

Jet airliner

The 747, DC-10 and L-1011 were the first airliners that had RCM-based maintenance programs.

As a direct result of this research, airline maintenance practices changed radically. RCM-inspired maintenance programs were developed for the Boeing 747, Douglas DC-10 and Lockheed L-1011, and for all subsequent airliners. The contrast with the traditional (pre-RCM) maintenance programs for the Boeing 707 and 727 and Douglas DC-8 was astonishing. The vast majority of component TBOs and life-limits were abandoned in favor of an on-condition approach based on monitoring the actual condition of engines and other components and keeping them in service until their condition demonstrably deteriorated to an unacceptable degree. For example, DC-8 had 339 components with TBOs or life limits, whereas the DC-10 had only seven—and none of them were engines. (Research showed clearly that overhauling engines at a specific TBO didn’t make them safer, and actually did the opposite.) In addition, the amount of scheduled maintenance was drastically reduced. For example, the DC-8 maintenance program required 4,000,000 labor hours of major structural inspections during the aircraft’s first 20,000 hours in service, while the 747 maintenance program called for only 66,000 labor hours, a reduction of nearly two orders of magnitude.

Greybeard AMTs.

Owner-flown GA, particularly piston GA, is the only remaining segment of aviation that does things the bad old-fashioned way.

Of course, these changes saved the airlines a king’s ransom in reduced maintenance costs and scheduled downtime. At the same time, the airplanes had far fewer maintenance squawks and much better dispatch reliability. (This was the same phenomenon that the RAF experienced during WWII when they followed Waddington’s advice to slash scheduled PM.)

…that hasnt yet reached piston GA

Today, there’s only one segment of aviation that has NOT adopted the enlightened RCM approach to maintenance, and still does scheduled PM the bad old-fashioned way. Sadly, that segment is owner-flown GA—particularly piston GA—at the bottom of the aviation food chain where a lot of us hang out. I’ll offer some thoughts about that next month.

The Waddington Effect

Tuesday, January 14th, 2014
Conrad Hal (C.H.) Waddington

C.H. Waddington (1905-1975)

In 1943, a British scientist named Conrad Hal (C.H.) Waddington made a remarkable discovery about aircraft maintenance.  He was a most unlikely person to make this discovery, because he wasn’t an aeronautical engineer or an aircraft mechanic or even a pilot.  Actually, he was a gifted developmental biologist, paleontologist, geneticist, embryologist, philosopher, poet and painter who wasn’t particularly interested in aviation.  But like many other British scientists at that time, his career was interrupted by the outbreak of the Second World War and he found himself pressed into service with the Royal Air Force (RAF).

Waddington wound up reporting to the RAF Coastal Command, heading up a group of fellow scientists in the Coastal Command Operational Research Section.  Its job was to advise the British military on how it could more effectively combat the threat from German submarines.  In that capacity, Waddington and his colleagues developed a series of astonishing recommendations that defied military conventional wisdom of the time.

For example, the bombers used to hunt and kill U-boats were mostly painted black in order to make them difficult to see.  But Waddington’s group ran a series of experiments that proved that bombers painted white were not spotted by the U-boats until they were 20% closer, resulting in a 30% increase in successful sinkings. Waddington’s group also recommended that the depth charges dropped by the bombers be set to explode at a depth of 25 feet instead of 100 feet.  This recommendation—initially resisted strongly by RAF commanders—ultimately resulted in a sevenfold increase in the number of U-boats destroyed.

Consolidated B-24 "Liberator" bomber

Consolidated B-24 “Liberator” bomber

Waddington subsequently turned his attention to the problem of “force readiness” of the bombers.  The Coastal Command’s B-24 “Liberator” bombers were spending an inordinate amount of time in the maintenance shop instead of hunting U-boats.  In July 1943, the two British Liberator squadrons located at Ballykelly, Northern Ireland, consisted of 40 aircraft, but at any given time only about 20 were flight-ready.  The other aircraft were down for any number of reasons, but mostly undergoing or awaiting maintenance—either scheduled or unscheduled—or waiting for replacement parts.

At that time, conventional wisdom held that if more preventive maintenance were performed on each aircraft, fewer problems would arise and more incipient problems would be caught and fixed—and thus fleet readiness would surely improve. It turned out that conventional wisdom was wrong. It would take C.H. Waddington and his Operational Research team to prove just how wrong.

Waddington and his team started gathering data about the scheduled and unscheduled maintenance of these aircraft, and began crunching and analyzing the numbers.  When he plotted the number of unscheduled aircraft repairs as a function of flight time, Waddington discovered something both unexpected and significant: The number of unscheduled repairs spiked sharply right after each aircraft underwent its regular 50-hour scheduled maintenance, and then declined steadily over time until the next scheduled 50-hour maintenance, at which time they spiked up once again.

Waddington Effect graph

When Waddington examined the plot of this repair data, he concluded that the scheduled maintenance (in Waddington’s own words) “tends to INCREASE breakdowns, and this can only be because it is doing positive harm by disturbing a relatively satisfactory state of affairs. There is no sign that the rate of breakdowns is starting to increase again after 40-50 flying hours when the aircraft is coming due for its next scheduled maintenance.” In other words, the observed pattern of unscheduled repairs demonstrated that the scheduled preventive maintenance was actually doing more harm than good, and that the 50-hour preventive maintenance interval was inappropriately short.

The solution proposed by Waddington’s team—and ultimately accepted by the RAF commanders over the howls of the maintenance personnel—was to increase the time interval between scheduled maintenance cycles, and to eliminate all preventive maintenance tasks that couldn’t be demonstrably proven to be beneficial. Once these recommendations were implemented, the number of effective flying hours of the RAF Coastal Command bomber fleet increased by 60 percent!

Fast forward two decades to the 1960s, when a pair of gifted scientists who worked for United Airlines—aeronautical engineer Stanley Nowlan and mathematician Howard Heap—independently rediscovered these principles in their pioneering research on optimizing maintenance that revolutionized the way maintenance is done in air transport, military aviation, high-end bizjets and many non-aviation industrial applications.  They were almost certainly unaware of the work of C.H. Waddington and his colleagues in Britain in the 1940s because that work remained classified until 1973, when Waddington’s meticulously-kept diary of his wartime research activities was declassified and published.

Next time, I’ll discuss the fascinating work of Nowlan and Heap on what came to be known as “Reliability Centered Maintenance.” But for now, I will leave you with the major takeaway from Waddington’s research during World War II: Maintenance isn’t an inherently good thing (like exercise); it’s a necessary evil (like surgery). We have to do it from time to time, but we sure don’t want to do more than absolutely necessary to keep our aircraft safe and reliable. Doing more maintenance than necessary actually degrades safety and reliability.