One spring day in April my luck was about to take a turn for the
worse. What a shame, the routine day at HSL-48, home of the World Famous
Vipers, would end with me feeling miserable and would force me to
reevaluate maintenance procedures.
Like every morning, we had our maintenance meeting, which was followed by FOD walk-down. Then it was time to go to work. I was assigned to a phase crew, currently finishing up a D-phase on VENOM 511, one of our squadron's 14 SH-60Bs. By this time I had completed numerous phases on the SH-60B and was comfortable with the aircraft and routine maintenance. My job for the morning was to put the finishing touches on the phase work and to get the bird ready for a functional check flight (FCF).
My first task was to install the engine intakes. I started with the port intake. I had a fellow Airman hand up the intake to me, but he wasn't able to raise it high enough for me to reach. I put my left foot on the engine bay door and placed my right foot on the hydraulic bay walkway, which is a ledge no more than about five inches wide. I now was able to reach all the way down so he didn't have to raise up the cowling any higher.
That's when my right foot slipped off the ledge and down the side of the aircraft. My arms flew around in an attempt to grab a hold of something...anything, but it was too late. I fell flat on my back with a loud thud. My left foot hit the weapon pylon on the way down, and my head bounced off the deck like a basketball. Stretched out on the deck, I was in disbelief of what had just happened. I was embarrassed and hurried to get to my feet to keep anyone from seeing my ten-foot back-flop from the top of a helicopter.
It was too late. Every chief in maintenance control scurried to see if I was all right. I assured them that I was fine. I started to explain to one of the Chief's what had happened, when I started feeling light-headed. The next thing I knew, I was lying on the ground, and a fellow mech held my head up off the deck. I can't even remember passing out. All I remember is everything felt like it was closing in on me. I'm not claustrophobic, but I sure felt like I was in a box before I hit the deck a second time.
I stayed on the deck until the paramedics arrived. They put a neck brace on me, strapped me to a gurney, and took me to base medical. Once there, they determined I had suffered a concussion and a minor ankle sprain. I was released about an hour later and was put on light duty for two days.
A couple of lessons should be learned from my short vertical trip to the hangar floor. The first is obvious, and it's one of the most common things we hear in our hangar bays: wear your cranial, and wear it properly. If I had not been wearing that cranial-with the chinstrap securely fastened-my head wouldn't have "bounced," and I wouldn't be here today. The second lesson
is to take your time. I could have gotten a better foothold on that ledge. If I had taken my time, that cranial never would have been put to use.
ADAN (AW) Vidal is attached to HSL-48, Det 9. |
