WHAT I LEARNED Operating offshore There arent many places to put down when youre shuttling between rigs in the North Sea. So what would you do if you started to doubt your fuel gauge? I n the summer of 1990, I was flying an MBB Bo105D helicopter based offshore on the Ninian North platform, about 255nm (470km) north-northeast of Aberdeen, in the East Shetland Basin. My job was to provide helicopter support in the Ninian oil field, flying a scheduled shuttle between the three platforms at 0700, 1230 and 1700 each day. The operation also provided medical evacuation cover for the Ninian and other platforms in the area. One Tuesday afternoon, during the 1230 shuttle, my aircraft developed an electrical fault one of the generators failed. On landing back on the North platform, I explained what had happened to my engineer, Davy. After a ground run and checks, Davy declared that a new generator was needed, which was not the sort of job that could be done on an open deck without full engineering support. Phone calls were made to the engineering department in Aberdeen and the decision was made to fly back to the beach on a one flight only clearance. The problem was, should anything else go wrong or fail over water, it would probably mean ditching. That meant a direct route back to Aberdeen was out of the question. So, late that afternoon, Davy and I took off, heading for Unst in Shetland, the nearest land to the Ninian. From there it would be island hopping down Shetland, across to Fair Isle, to Sanday and the Orkney Islands. Then across the Pentland Firth to John OGroats, down the Caithness coast to the Cromarty Firth and across to Aberdeen. Luckily, the weather was perfect and we enjoyed a pleasant flight over stunning By Mike Buckley, The Log board member scenery, bearing in mind the reason for the flight. Our replacement aircraft was in Strubby, about 30 miles east of Lincoln, and was being flown up to Aberdeen at the same time as I was flying down from the East Shetland Basin. So far so good. By sheer coincidence, the company was closing its operation at Longside, a small airfield just west of Peterhead. Longside had been the support base for the Bo105Ds, with the bulk of the companys Bo105D engineers based there. The final day of operations there was the very same day as my flight from the Basin, and the staff members were in the process of moving the operation to Aberdeen. The replacement aircraft had arrived in Aberdeen an hour or so earlier and the pilot, one of the company owners, had already left. Next morning, I arrived at the airport and met Davy. While he was getting his paperwork in order, I went to the aircraft and did my walk round. I switched on the battery to check the fuel state and checked the Tech Log to confirm the BFI had been completed. The previous days entries were a bit of a mess, with none for the fuel states for the flight up from Strubby. However, that mornings entries showed full fuel and everything ready to fly. A short time later, Davy and I took off, heading for the Ninian. Again, we were lucky with the weather: just a few scattered cumuli around. We coasted out north of Peterhead feeling quite relaxed. That feeling changed about 45 minutes after take-off, however, when the low-fuel warning light came on. The Bo105D had two fuel tanks: the main tank and a feeder tank, from which the engines were fed. The low-fuel light was triggered when the main tank was empty, leaving only 40kgs in the feeder tank about 20 minutes maximum. At this point, the main fuel gauge still showed full the Bo105D always flew with a nose-down attitude, and the main tank needle wouldnt normally start to move until 30 minutes into flight. I hadnt noticed that the needle hadnt moved when the low-fuel light came on. By now, we were more than 20 minutes from land. About 10 minutes earlier, we had passed a drilling rig called the Ocean Bounty. It had just arrived on location that morning and was in the process of laying its anchors before ballasting down (for stability). A quick check on the Offshore Installations map showed its name and frequency. I made a quick call to Highland Radar, under whose control I was flying, and explained the situation as I made a turn back towards the Ocean Bounty. Fortunately, the radio operator was in the radio room and answered my call straight away. I asked for permission to land, explaining my critical shortage of fuel, and this was granted immediately. On landing, the feeder-tank fuel gauge was almost on the bottom stop. After shutting down, Davy crawled into the back of the aircraft and accessed the top of the main fuel tank, where the top of the contents float gauge was located. We had deduced that there was probably a problem with the float gauge itself, and this was confirmed when Davy gave the top of the column a sharp tap. I was in the cockpit watching the fuel gauge and, when Davy tapped the top, the needle immediately dropped to empty. 24 THE LOG Spring 25 pp40-41 What I learned v2.indd 40 17/03/2025 14:24