Airline Pilot Chatter

Boeing 737 Initial Operating Experience - My First Trip

2013-05-18T15:05:00.000-05:00

After three weeks of ground school, two weeks of simulator training, two written exams, an FMS evaluation and two back to back check rides in the simulator (one on my birthday), I finally signed in for my first trip this past Wednesday morning…but training wasn't over. All the instruction I received up to this point had taken place in the classroom, a procedures trainer or the simulator. In the past, when walking through the departure lounge in uniform, I've felt like people were sizing me up as a pilot...like they could tell something about my abilities based on my physical appearance (there might actually be something to that). Wednesday was no different, except as I smiled and made eye contact with a few people about to board my aircraft, I couldn't help but wonder how they might feel if they knew this would be my first time to pilot the real thing.

It hasn't been that long since airline pilots were required to receive at least some training on the actual airplane before they were allowed to carry passengers. Typically, an instructor and two or three students would go out to the airport late in the evening to fly an airplane that had been carrying passengers all day. After a few approaches and landings in the middle of the night, bounces as we often called them, the students were all signed off and legal to fly.

Today, simulator technology has advanced to the point that pilots are routinely trained solely in flight simulation devices. On Wednesday morning, I stepped onto the airplane for the first time and safely transported 150 people who had no idea I wasn't line qualified. I was, and still am, a little wet behind the ears, but I don’t think anyone could tell. The training we receive is quite good and prepares us well for flying the line.

My first B737...sitting at the gate at DFW

I got home Friday morning after flying three days of IOE (Initial Operating Experience). During IOE, the company displaces a regularly scheduled crew member, captain and or first officer, and sends a check airman out to fly with a newly qualified pilot…that’s me! The only difference between the trip I just flew and any other, is that instead of swapping legs, I got to do most of the flying.

If you've been following along, then you know that I spent the past 13 years and just over 9,000 flight hours on the MD80. I was nervous about leaving that plane for what is basically a lateral move within the company, but I needed something different and I needed a challenge. Ground and flight school certainly met that need and flying the real airplane for the first time was a challenge as well. It will take time to become as proficient on the 737 as I was on the 80…the two are starkly different…but I was immeasurably more comfortable piloting the aircraft as we made our final approach and landing on Friday than I was when we began three days earlier.

The single biggest adjustment for me has been getting used to hydraulically assisted flight controls. I've probably said this before, but flying the MD80 is like driving a Mack truck without power steering. It takes large, heavy handed control inputs to make the aircraft move in the desired direction…the same amount of force or control movement would practically turn the 737 upside down. I have learned to fly the jet with a light hand and often have only my finger tips on the controls, but old habits are hard to break and I’m still learning.

One thing about the 737 that caught me by surprise was cockpit noise…and I don’t think I’m going where you think with this one. The airplane isn't anywhere near as loud as I expected. I was a flight engineer on the 727 for a short time and I can tell you that that airplane was deafeningly loud. The 737 has the same nose as the 727 and I've always heard that the 737 had one of the loudest cockpits in the industry. Thankfully, Boeing has made a few physical improvements over the years that reduced some of the noise, but I think the most significant reason behind reduced noise levels is the fact that we don’t fly the 737 as fast as we flew the 727. Not all airlines or pilots fly the same airplane in the same way, but our procedure is to climb at 300 knots, transition to Mach .78, cruise at FMS ECON speeds and crossover to 290 knots in the descent. For an airplane with a max speed of 340 knots and .82 Mach, the slower speeds do a lot to keep the noise down. I was able to use the same ear mold headset that I used on the MD80 and had no difficulty carrying on a normal volume conversation as we flew.

There are a number of features of the next generation 737 that I've learned to love. One of my favorites is the cockpit instrumentation. Learning to interpret these screens took some work at first, but now that I've gotten used to them, I hope I never have to go back to an old “six pack” panel. The radar image in the picture below is also a major advance. Set in AUTO, the system continually scans not only left and right, but up and down as well, constantly adjusting gain and providing a much more accurate image of the weather. It even detects climbing radar returns and warns the pilots if a storm will climb into the projected flight path. Not all our jets have it and I’ll feel naked the next time I fly without it.

ND (Navigation Display) on the left. PFD (Primary Flight Display) on the right.

Another feature I've learned to love is the automatic loading of the Flight Management System (FMS) computers. With the push of a few buttons, the route, projected winds and even weight and balance data is remotely uploaded into the computer. It automatically displays V speed bugs, minimum maneuvering speeds and acceleration and cleanup altitudes. It even retrieves updated weight and balance data during taxi to fine tune the planned information loaded at the gate. This has significantly reduced my pre-flight work load and gives me time to spend on other important tasks.

Of course, I've had my struggles too. All that automatic uploading is something that isn't simulated during training, so the first time I did it was on my first flight with people on board. It’s all pretty simple, but if you push the wrong button at the wrong time or out of sequence, you could end up with bad or duplicate data…and possibly a ticked off captain…neither of which sound appealing to me.

Landing the airplane has also been an adjustment. I was proud of the fact that I could consistently land the MD80 the way you would expect from someone with so much experience on the jet. Everyone makes a rough landing every now and then, but mine were few and far between. Of the four landings I made during IOE this week, I wasn't particularly happy with any of them. None were terrible, but they didn't encourage many compliments either. I blame part of that on the fact that my instructor wanted me to experience multiple flap settings (we’re authorized to land with flaps 15, 30 or 40), so the sight picture kept changing. Also, it's a known fact that flight simulators do not land anything like the real airplane...but as Ben Franklin once said “He that is good for making excuses is seldom good for anything else.” No more excuses from me.

Sporting new paint on a flight from MIA to YYZ

After my last landing on Friday morning, the check airman shook my hand and welcomed me to the fleet. I am now legally qualified on the airplane and look forward to my first regular trip next week. I'm also looking forward to a trip to the company store as I've been fighting off the urge to purchase any of the required Boeing swag (model airplane, stickers and the like) until I was fully qualified. I'm not a superstitious person, but why tempt fate.

I’ll have more to say about this airplane as I gain experience and learn to love it. While I miss the comfort level I enjoyed after spending so much time on the MD80, I look forward to a time when I’m equally as confident on the 737. As I've said before, I’m here for the journey...and this one is going to be a lot of fun.

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If you haven't already, please visit "You Have The Airplane," a new section of AirlinePilotChatter where I am inviting others to share their stories.

I've also added my bio, entitled "My Story." Both of these pages can be accessed from the navigation bar on any page of AirlinePilotChatter.

As always, thanks for following along. Questions and comments are both appreciated and encouraged.

737 Flight Training Complete

2013-05-09T16:05:00.000-05:00

I’m barely on the desired side of a thin line between asleep and awake. I’m aware enough to know that I’m in bed but asleep enough to lose at least an hour between restless turns in bed. It’s dark, quiet and cool…just the way I like it. “Don’t open your eyes or look at the clock,” I keep telling myself.

Somewhere just below the surface I’m barely conscious enough to allow some procedure, checklist or memory item to creep into my mind. I’m fighting the temptation and try to focus on some distant relaxing place, but resistance is futile. “Go-around, flaps fifteen, positive rate, gear up, set missed approach altitude…” Damn!

The alarm is probably about to go off anyway. A quick one-eyed peek…crap…3:30 am. Alarm won’t sound for another 2 hours. I desperately need to sleep. Long days and short nights have been piling up for weeks. Sleep deprivation is cumulative and the fruit of all my labor hinges on today’s performance in the simulator.

The last two months have been a crescendo building up to one, all-important evaluation of my abilities. It all started almost two months ago when I decided, after 13 years on the MD80, that it was time for change. With a few key strokes on the company web site, my preferences were official. 737 First Officer wasn't on the top of the list, but it was the one I knew I would get.

I immediately began preparing for class. I was issued books, manuals, checklists and a paper mock-up of the cockpit. I wanted to show up on the first day of class knowing the airplane well enough to pass an oral exam. It took a lot of work, but preparation reduced the stress level to a manageable level and made it possible for me to extract much more from the program than if I had shown up on the first day with manuals still protected by shrink wrap.

I gave up around 4:45 this morning, stumbled downstairs and pushed the button on a coffee maker that wasn't programmed to brew for another hour. This is how check-ride day usually goes for me. I wouldn't say that I get a severe case of check-ride-itis; more like the sniffles as opposed to a full blown case of the flu. It’s only natural with so much on the line, but the jitters can be counter-productive and I go to great lengths to ward them off.

I had two check-rides this week, one yesterday and one today. Yesterday, my sim partner and I successfully passed what we call a Maneuvers Validation…MV for short. The MV is designed to test just about every maneuver we've been taught during the past two weeks of flight training. We took off and flew a handful of maneuvers designed to get us comfortable and warmed-up before jumping right into low visibility CATIII, RNAV and other non-precision approaches. Throw an engine fire, a complete loss of one of the hydraulic systems and a few electrical and air conditioning faults on top for good measure and four hours later we were all signed off for today.

This morning, my partner and I parted paths. We were both training to be first officers and we've been together since the first day of ground school. Once we made it to the simulator phase of training, I occupied the left seat and performed the captain’s duties while he received his training and he did the same for me. It’s not an ideal situation, but it’s how we were expected to perform. In the end, I’ll probably have a better understanding of what the captain is thinking and doing. But today, we flew a LOFT (Line Oriented Flight Training), which requires the left seat to be occupied by a current and qualified captain.

A LOFT is flown just like a real flight, in real time, typically with realistic scenarios designed to get the student back into the mind set of flying the airplane from point A to point B. Up until now, every time we booted up the simulator, we could be anywhere in the world we wanted. High temperature and high altitude operations in Denver one minute followed by freezing drizzle and a stiff crosswind at New York LaGuardia a few minutes later. With the push of a button the instructor could place us at any airport, with any weather condition or even specify a location somewhere on a particular approach. If, for any reason, he didn't like something we did, he had the ability to push a button or two and put us right back at the outer marker for another attempt. That’s not the idea behind a LOFT.

Today, we started out at the gate in Albuquerque, New Mexico for a short flight to DFW. We loaded the FMS and prepared the cockpit just as we would for any revenue flight. The instructor acted as ATC, ground personnel, flight attendants, gate agents, dispatch and anyone else we might need to contact. Everything happened in real time and since I was the one being evaluated, it would be my turn to fly. Everything was normal. Taxi, takeoff, cruise and descent went the way 99.999% of all flights go…normal. I knew, at some point, that all hell would break loose. It always does.

We were vectored in for a VOR approach to runway 13R at DFW, so I set us up for an RNAV overlay approach. With the LNAV/VNAV capabilities of this and many other modern aircraft, a non-precision approach is anything but non-precise. As a matter of fact, we call them non-ILS approaches now instead of non-precision, since they are actually quite accurate and provide both lateral and vertical guidance all the way down to the runway.

The approach went normally. We broke out of the clouds at about 200 feet above minimums with ample visibility, but as I maneuvered the aircraft to land, another aircraft taxied out onto the runway in front of us and forced a go-around. I recited the line I woke to five hours earlier…”Go-around, flaps fifteen, positive rate, gear up, set missed approach altitude.” The go-around procedure required a hard right hand turn and a climb to 3,000 feet. With the aircraft banked into a 30 degree turn, the fire warning light lit up on the glare shield and the fire-warning bell sounded in the cockpit. I feel sure passengers sitting in the last row of coach would have heard that bell if there had actually been anyone back there.

The captain took over flying duties and left me to the checklist. It really wasn't a big deal. I found the FWD Cargo light illuminated and followed the procedure to extinguish the fire as the captain set up for an ILS to runway 17C. I finished the emergency procedure and completed the remaining normal checklist items just in time to watch the captain fly a perfect approach and landing.

By the time we landed, the fire was extinguished; Crash Fire Rescue teams assessed the situation and confirmed the fire was out before we taxied to the gate as if nothing had happened. Taxi in, shut down, run the checklists and go home. That’s all she wrote.

I haven't had a normal night’s sleep since early March. I think I’ll rectify that tonight. That fuzzy, uncomfortable feeling in my stomach has been replaced by hunger and a need for something cold to drink. I think I'll rectify that tonight as well. As for procedures and memory items interrupting my slumber, it may take a while for that to fade, but at least the stress is gone…until I return for recurrent training in 9 months.

737 Simulator Training...almost done.

2013-05-02T16:28:00.001-05:00

CAE 7000 Series Flight Simulator

As I drove home from the Flight Academy today, I felt like a 737 pilot for the first time. The first three weeks of training included self-paced computer based training and one-on-one review sessions with one of our ground school instructors as we learned everything we needed to know about the mechanics of the Boeing 737. We spent a small amount of time each day in the simulator learning normal procedures, flows and the proper way to conduct checklists, but motion was never turned on and our time in the sim was, for the most part, stress free. Before moving past the ground school phase, we were tested over everything we had learned. Those tests were the source of a few restless nights for me, but I did well on the exams and was cleared to move on to the next phase. This week, we hit the simulator hard, but today I can honestly say I'm getting comfortable in the seat and feel like I belong on the airplane. I still have significant hoops to jump through, and it won't be official for two more weeks, but I feel like a 737 pilot.

Before we stepped into the simulator on day one, someone told us the next five days would feel something like the old story about a frog being slowly boiled in a pot of water. The premise of that story being that a frog would attempt to escape if placed immediately in hot water, but if placed in cold water that was heated slowly, the frog would not perceive the danger and would be cooked to death. I wouldn't begin to describe the week that way. Admittedly, day one was a piece of cake. We performed normal takeoffs and landings, entered holding patterns, executed stalls, steep turns and unusual attitude recoveries and a few other maneuvers designed to get us comfortable with having the 737 control wheel in our hands. It was an enjoyable and relatively simple day. But instead of slowly turning up the heat, we were unceremoniously dropped into hot boiling water on day two and it really didn't let up until today.

Day two was especially difficult for me because we were performing maneuvers I had never flown with equipment I was still learning to understand and interpret. The Primary Flight Display (PFD) on the 737 is a significant step forward from the "six pack" instrument panel I've flown for the last 13 years. Everything is right there in front of me on one screen and every day I spend focused on it, I get a little more comfortable and see something I didn't see the day before. My instructor told me I would have a myopic view of the PFD at first and that I would feel as if I was looking at the instrument panel through an empty paper towel roll. He was right about that, but my peripheral vision has gotten much better and I see a little more with every procedure I fly.

On top of my struggles to understand the PFD, day two was also difficult because it was time to learn how to fly LNAV/VNAV approaches. I was introduced to RNAV approaches years ago on the MD80 after the fleet was equipped with GFMS (GPS Flight Management System), but the simple act of adding VNAV to the equation threw me for a loop. To be clear, LNAV stands for Lateral Navigation and refers to navigating over a ground track with the help of an electronic device of some sort. I've been doing this for years on the 80. Conversely, VNAV stands for Vertical Navigation and refers to directing the aircraft in a vertical motion. If you put the two together on a single approach procedure, the airplane will arrive at the end of the runway at an altitude and position suitable for landing with no reference to ground based visual or electronic navigational aids. It's a little like flying into a funnel with the end pointed right at the end of the runway. I'm sure it sounds simple, but the vertical part of the equation if fraught with opportunities for small mistakes that could ruin an otherwise well flown approach.

With each new day in the simulator, everything learned the day before was a given. We were expected to have mastered those skills and the next day's challenges would be experienced in conjunction with what was already covered.

Day three came with the addition of single-engine scenarios. I knew I was in trouble when the instructor told me to set the airplane up for a takeoff from Salt Lake City, Utah. Salt Lake and Denver are favorites among instructors not only for learning how to fly the airplane on one engine, but doing so at high altitude airports with excessively warm temperatures. Both are factors that reduce the performance of the engines and wing and increase the workload for pilots. The temperature was set at 38 degrees Celsius...just over 100 Fahrenheit.

Day four was basically the same scenarios as day three, except that the passage of 24 hours brought heavy snow and ice to the mix. On one takeoff from Salk Lake City, the instructor turned me toward the mountains and refused my repeated requests for a turn. He wanted me to see the Ground Proximity Warning System (GPWS) in action. We got to within 20 seconds of impact before he let me react to the threat, but the 737 climbs well on two engines and even though we waited far longer than I would in real life, the airplane out-climbed the mountain face with ease. Later that same day, he set up a traffic conflict with two airplanes crossing my path. The TCAS (Traffic Collision Avoidance System) came to life and visually displayed a no fly zone above and below my aircraft as I threaded the needle between two jets, one 500 feet above and one 300 feet below my altitude. Each day was sprinkled with minor abnormal situations designed to get us into the checklists and paying attention to the jet. Start malfunctions, hydraulic leaks, faulty electrical generators, fires in the cabin, engines and cargo compartments...just to name a few.

Today, day five, was an easy day. We flew a LOFT (Line Oriented Flight Training) from Albuquerque, New Mexico to the Dallas Ft. Worth International Airport. We worked in real time and flew the trip as we would fly it for real. It was nice to see all the normal procedures we had learned spliced together in one flight. Before today, everything was segmented and almost nothing was done in real time. I was surprisingly relaxed and found myself constantly feeling like I should be doing something. I've become so accustomed to things failing, burning or falling off, that sitting there with a normal airplane felt completely abnormal.

After such a relaxing beginning to the period, we finished the day with a few final scenarios that were anything but relaxing. My sim partner and I each got a few more engine failures, one where the engine actually FELL OFF the wing and the second engine failed a short time later. With nowhere else to go, we were able to reverse course and land on a parallel runway with neither engine producing thrust. After that we reset the sim on short final to runway 17C at DFW and flew the infamous Delta 191 windshear event and finished the day with windshear on takeoff before we packed up our books and headed for the house.

I'm at home now and feeling good about the week. There have been a few times during the past month when I second guessed my decision to bid this jet, but as I become more and more comfortable in the seat, I am increasingly glad that I did. As I pulled away from the Flight Academy today, I felt like a 737 pilot for the first time. I still have a week left of simulator training to go and will take two checkrides before they send me out to fly an Initial Operating Experience (IOE) trip under the watchful eye of one of our instructors. After that it will be my turn to be the new guy. It has been said that a Private Pilot's License is a license to learn. They don't, and really can't, teach you everything you need to know in school. My most valuable knowledge comes as a result of personal experience, not from what I read in books or was taught in a classroom. I've learned a lot over the past few weeks, but when I head out for my first trip two weeks from now, my new sign-off will be just that...a license to learn.

FAA Systems Validation in Progress…Do Not Disturb

2013-04-25T18:25:00.000-05:00

Today is the day I have been dreading for more than a month…a day that marks the end of the first phase of my Boeing 737 First Officer training and the day the FAA tested my systems knowledge. I started preparing well before class actually got started, but ground school officially began three weeks ago. As with any airplane I’m not trained to fly, the first time I peered into the 737’s cockpit, the sea of lights, switches, gauges, levers and buttons meant very little to me. I must admit I was more than slightly concerned about what I had gotten myself into and even wondered a time or two why I had elected to leave the relative comfort of the MD80 and an airplane with which I was intimately familiar.

With each day of class and each system mastered, the cockpit began to make a little more sense. One panel at a time, the 737 cockpit has become less of a mystery and more like home…small, cramped and noisy. Don’t tell my wife I said that!

The honest truth is that school isn’t much fun. I can’t name a single pilot who actually enjoys going to school on a new airplane. There may be people out there who enjoy the process, but I’m certainly not one of them. Of course, there are gratifying aspects of the training experience, but the rare moments of pleasure are often overshadowed by the stress of it all.

The majority of phase one took place in the classroom. I showed up on day one expecting this part of the course to focus primarily on aircraft systems, but by day two I was in the simulator with a hand full of airplane. Granted, I haven’t been through a new airplane course in 13 years, but ground school encompassed more than I expected and uncovered more than a few holes in my preparation, mainly in procedures and flying techniques that I wasn’t expecting to have to know at such an early stage. The idea was to teach the details of a particular system in class then hop in the simulator to see how it actually worked…and more importantly, what happens when it doesn’t work as designed.

During my first training session in the simulator, the syllabus called for pre-flight, before starting engines and taxi checklists only. But after those were all complete and with time to spare, the instructor asked, “Hey, you guys want to fly this thing?” What were we going to say...no? Not a chance. This is my first experience with an airplane equipped with a Primary Flight Display like the one on the 737NG, so it was good to see it in action. It’s the sort of thing you can read about all day, but until you see it in motion, it’s terribly difficult to grasp.

Yesterday, we attended what is lovingly known as “stump the dummy.” No, that isn’t an official name and no one but the students use the term, but it’s an accurate description of the day. After completing ground school, the assumption was that we knew everything there was to know about the airplane, and that was a bad assumption. So they sat us down in a room with an instructor who grilled us for hours. Not surprisingly, he discovered a few additional holes in our knowledge.

Today, we took three tests. The first was an FMS evaluation which we completed on an electronic trainer in one of the classrooms. We were required to prepare the cockpit for departure, load the FMS and demonstrate proficiency with just about anything we might need to do while on the ground or in flight. We didn’t get a grade on the FMS test, but we weren’t allowed to make any mistakes either…so I guess I got a 100 on that one. That’s my story anyway.

The second test covered emergency memory items. We were required to make a 100 on that one or we’d have to come back for another attempt. I’m amazed by the number and nature of the memory items on this jet. We had 14 procedures to recite and several of them were…well…verbose! Reciting such a long-winded emergency procedure when an engine is on fire or the air is being sucked from the passenger cabin just seems silly, but Boeing writes these procedures and we follow them to the letter. I strongly suspect this is an issue of liability, since the Boeing Company would most likely wash their hands of any accident where the crews didn’t use the accepted manufacturer’s procedures.

With respect to memorizing the emergency procedures, we basically memorize them two ways…verbatim, to satisfy the instructors and the FAA, and practical action, where we’re more concerned about completing the procedure quickly and correctly than we are about getting every insignificant word in the right place.

I made a 100 on the test, so it was on to the third and final hurdle.

Preparing for the systems exam is where I spent most of my efforts in the weeks leading up to training. The last time I did this, the systems validation consisted of a one on one oral exam. That’s my preferred method primarily because I enjoy talking about airplanes and I’m much better at verbalizing my knowledge than I am at interpreting a written exam. Unfortunately, the current method for testing our systems knowledge is by written exam.

From a bank of questions that we never saw ahead of time, the computer randomly generated a 100 question test. It may be a flaw in my personality…I choose to think that it is not…but merely passing this exam would not be good enough. I spent the better part of a month before class started learning this airplane for a number of reasons. First, I wanted to reduce the stress level as much as possible. Second, I genuinely want to know as much about the airplane as I possibly can; I think my passengers deserve that. Third, I wanted to ace the test.

I made a 99 on the exam…and I’m ticked that I missed that one question!

Week two of 737 Ground School.........Check!

2013-04-19T15:06:00.001-05:00

I just read a blog post from my buddy Swayne Martin about a difficult lesson he had this week while preparing for his Private Pilot's License. There were several learning opportunities that occurred during the lesson that caught him by surprise. He expressed more than once that he was "disappointed" with his performance. I can relate to that sentiment. Sometimes the difficult lessons are the most beneficial, but they aren't always the most fun. Today marked the end of the second week of a three week ground school program preparing me for three exams I'll have to take next week. Of course, the end goal is to prepare me to be the best line pilot I can be, but right now, the focus is all on those darn exams...one step at a time.

So far my instruction has been focused on aircraft systems, emergency action items that must be performed from memory and the use of the Flight Management System (FMS) installed on our Boeing 737s. Next week, I'll have one more day of instruction, followed by two days of what we affectionately call "stump the dummy." My instructor will use those two days to ask me everything I need to know to pass the exams. Once the exams are completed, I will be able to focus my attention on simulator training.

I had a few difficult lessons this week as the training schedule seems to close in on me when I most need extra time. Each day, I have around three hours of instruction, two students with one instructor, followed by three to four hours of self-paced computer based training. After I've checked those two items off the to-do list, I spend hours reviewing past lessons and preparing for what will be discussed the next day. There simply isn't enough time to do everything I would like to accomplish.

Another part of my instruction takes place in procedure trainers like the ones I described in my last post. Fortunately, my instructor successfully scheduled a full motion simulator for most of these lessons. The sim is a much more useful instructional tool that accurately represents almost anything we might experience while flying the real airplane. The up-side to using the sim is that I will be much more prepared for the next level of my training. The down-side is that I'm expected to perform far more procedures than I would if we were using one of the paper trainers. I keep reminding myself that the extra work will pay off.

We flew the sim again today...this time with me in the left seat and my sim partner acting as the first officer. We learned all about the HUD today, so I dropped the screen and utilized it for takeoff and landing just to get a feel for how it works. The HUD is only installed on the captain's side of our 737s, so I won't get to use it on the line. One of the bad aspects of training in both seats is that I've gotten a taste for the left seat again. I can't explain it, but the world looks very different from over there...and I like it a lot.

Since I was well prepared for class, the first week of training was relatively low stress. So far the instructor hasn't told me very much that I didn't already know. The stress ramped up this week as my duties in the simulator multiplied, reading assignments got longer and next week's tests got a little closer. I'll spend my weekend seeking out quiet places to study...not an easy task with my wife and two young girls in the house. I think I see a trip to the library in my future.

Enjoying the journey.

737 Ground School...One week down!

2013-04-14T13:27:00.002-05:00

After nearly 14 years at this job, I'm finally getting back on track with my original career plan. It's almost comical now, but I sat down during basic indoctrination back in 1999 and made up a plan of what aircraft I wanted to fly, in what order and when I thought I would be awarded the positions. The MD80 that I've flown for the last 13 years wasn't actually on the list (I explain this in an earlier post entitled "Bigger Isn't Always Better"), but even though it wasn't part of the plan, I feel lucky to have flown the "Mad dog" and I must admit I've already driven past the airport and looking longingly at the old girl climbing away into the sky.

I got started with 737 training this week and I think I've already flushed most of what I knew about the MD80 in a desperate attempt to make room for new information. There's only so much room in my head, and with weeks of school left to go, it's already getting quite full up there.

So far things have gone smoothly, but there have been a few unexpected bumps in the road. One of those is the fact that my training partner is another First Officer. Usually, when two pilots are paired together for flight training, one is preparing to be a Captain and the other an FO. It's seems so obvious and simple, but it doesn't always work out that way. In my case, there were more First Officers than Captains in need of training this month and my partner and I drew the short straw. When he's in the right seat, I will act as his Captain and he will do the same for me. Unfortunately, this adds a lot of extra work for me as I now have to know my job and the Captain's too. I'm sure there will be some leniency with respect to my work in the left seat, but it adds a level of difficulty I really didn't need.

On a positive note, you might be surprised to learn that my class only has two students. We meet every day with an instructor who reviews the information we studied the day before through self-paced computer based training modules. The instructor review takes about three hours, then we move on to a procedures trainer where we practice checklists and learn muscle memory for standard flows. These trainers come in three basic types, paper, electronic, and full motion simulators...I'll get to that next. Then we head to the computers where we spend another three hours on the computers packing our heads with more systems information for the next day's review. After finishing the lesson assignments for the day, we're on our own to review and study.

Below is one of our paper trainers. This one happens to be back-lit, which helps a bit. It's only a photograph of a Boeing 737 cockpit, so the switches don't work, but that isn't really the point. The idea is that the student has a way to practice checklists, flows and memory items without taking up space in a multi-million dollar flight simulator. Sometimes, if we're lucky, we get a simulator anyway.

The next picture shows my favorite new toy. It's very similar to the one above except that the instruments are shown on touch sensitive computer screens that allow the student to push buttons and flip switches. Better still is the screen mounted above and to the right the instrument panel (the one with the black background) that shows system information. In this picture, I was performing the initial power-up and pre-flight inspection. As I powered up the airplane, the electrical schematic showed every move I made and how the switches I was flipping were affecting the electrical system. We spend a lot of time working with schematics in ground school, but I've never seen one that interacted with a cockpit procedures trainer. The student can choose to view any of the aircraft systems...hydraulic, pressurization, fuel, etc...and view the affect moving any switch in the cockpit has on that system.

We spent part of day three and four in a full motion simulator, which is about as close to the real airplane as you can get. The first picture below is what the airplane looks like with the lights on, but before position initialization. Until the POS INIT procedure is complete, the airplane doesn't know where it is or which way is up, so the attitude and heading displays are mostly blank and full of failure flags. The second picture below shows the instrument panel after everything was initialized. You might notice I was performing the Captain's duties at the time.

The initial cockpit procedures, checklists and initial pre-flight preparation take a crazy amount of time when you are first learning how to do them. Once I'm comfortable in the jet, I'll be able to complete them all and be completely ready to fly in around 15 to 20 minutes. Right now it takes me more than an hour. We were only supposed to complete the items required to be complete before takeoff, but the instructor decided to let us go ahead and fly.

We took off from DFW and flew the airplane to MEM to get a better idea about how the Primary Flight Display and Navigation Displays actually worked. I wasn't really prepared for that and hadn't studied some of the procedures we were doing, but actually seeing the instruments in action helped me to better understand some of what I had been reading. It also helped me to realize that I'm going to like these new displays a lot. Everything I need is on that one screen. It took at least six instruments on my old airplane to display the same amount of information.

Now I'm off for two days...although "off" doesn't accurately describe how I'll be spending my weekend. I'll spend the next two days reviewing what I learned this week and cementing some of the procedures and checklists I've put to memory. I have four more days of ground school next week, two more days off, then a few days of review before I'll be tested over my systems and emergency procedures knowledge.

That's it for now. The closer I get to exam time, the less time I'll have for updates, but I'll post as I can. Thanks for checking in.

Preparing for an Airline Ground School

2013-04-13T05:01:00.001-05:00

Getting ready to sip from the proverbial fire hose...

If you've been reading along, then you know that I've been an MD80 First Officer for a very long time...much longer than intended on a plane I didn't actually intend to fly. Someone I know and love dearly told me not to stay on the 80 too long or I might decide I liked it. Well...it's far too late for that, because I've decided I like the old girl a lot. She may be old, but she is reliable and I am exceedingly comfortable in her cockpit. However, for reasons discussed in previous posts, I recently decided the timing was right for a change. Boeing 737-800 First Officer training started earlier this week.

School never came easy for me. That's not to say I didn't make good grades, but it always seemed to take twice the effort to produce the same grades as my peers. During Junior High and High School, my next door neighbor and I were in the same grade. It quickly became apparent that I was rarely halfway through with my schoolwork by the time my buddy was out playing ball and enjoying what was left of the day. Once in college, I did not pursue an aviation degree because I wanted something in another field to fall back on. So far I haven't needed my fallback position and I hope I never will, but studying subject matter in college that didn't really interest me made for a long four year educational experience. With all this in mind, one might think I would choose a career field that didn't require quite so much continued education, but once bitten by the aviation bug, there was no turning back.

Airline ground school would not prove to be easier than any of my previous educational endeavors, but for the first time ever, I was studying something I actually liked and cared about...that was a small distinction that made a huge difference. Even so, finding a way to retain such an enormous amount of information in such a short amount of time was daunting to say the least.

If you aren't an auto mechanic, this might put it into perspective. Walk out to the garage and lift the hood to your car. What is all that stuff? Crawl around on the ground and look at all the mechanics under the car. Lots of stuff under there too! An auto mechanic knows what all that stuff is...I don't. A mechanic knows what every component is and how it works. He could take it all apart and put it back together again. He knows what happens if one component stops working properly and how it interacts with all the other stuff under the hood. Most importantly, he's able to diagnose a problem when the car it isn't working properly and fix it. I'm that guy who lifts the hood on a broken-down car and stares at the engine like I know what I'm looking at. I never do, but when it comes to the airplane I fly, I have to know what all that "stuff" is and how it works.

I've been through a number of airline ground schools over the years, EMB-120 First Officer, ATR-72 First Officer, EMB-120 Captain, Boeing 737 Captain, Boeing 727 Flight Engineer, MD80 First Officer and now Boeing 737 First Officer. You probably noticed Boeing 737 Captain on the list and might think training as a First Officer now would be no big deal, but I initially trained on a 737-200 almost 20 years ago. Not only have I long since flushed everything I knew about that jet, but the 737-800 I'm training on now is a significantly different animal. I'll be starting from scratch.

I've come up with a process that works for me, and the name of the game is preparation. I see guys showing up for ground school with their class materials still in the shrink rap they came in, putting their books together and perusing a thing or two before the first day of class...completely unprepared. That isn't me. In a perfect world, I could sit down on that first day and pass an oral exam. Many would claim that's overkill, but it's what works for me and it turns a potentially stressful month long course into a much more enjoyable and productive experience.

Unfortunately, there have been a few schools over the years that caught me by surprise or for one reason or another and did not present an opportunity for preparation. My first airline ground school was EMB-120 Brasilia First Officer training at Atlantic Southeast Airlines. Not only was this my first, but with only two weeks notice of new hire training and no way to obtain a copy of the manuals, I was one of those guys unwrapping his books on the first day. To make matters worse, the Brasilia was a complicated airplane, far more complex than anything I'd ever flown before...training was a challenge.

While in Brasilia school, I spent a few days studying with my father, who was a Boeing 767 Captain at the time. I vividly remember his comments after spending an afternoon reviewing the electrical system. "If you can learn this airplane, you'll never have trouble with another ground school." I spent every waking moment with my nose in the books and my lack of preparation resulted in a generally unpleasant experience.

This time was different. I thought long and hard before bidding the 737 and started preparation before I had officially been awarded the position. One thing that made that possible was online Computer Based Training (CBT). Through a website only accessible by pilots working for my airline, I was able to access all the books and training materials I would need to complete the course. The CBT included 9 days of online lessons that covered every system on the plane and I was able to supplement that information with online manuals. The company has since provided me with the shrink wrapped books of past schools, but I wasn't allowed to have them until I actually had a class date...by then I didn't really need them, but they look good on the shelves in my office and as a relative "old guy" I still prefer paper manuals to those available on my company issued iPad.

Class started on Wednesday and showing up prepared has already reduced my stress level. During my Brasilia training at ASA, I often felt like my head might explode. I constantly felt as if I couldn't possibly put one more morsel of information in my head without doing irreparable harm. Mental melt down was a constant possibility and the old term "drinking from a fire hose" took on new meaning.

Stay tuned...the blog will probably look a little different in the coming weeks. School will be my first priority, but I'll try to make regular...if not shorter...posts about my progress. I should be out on the line by mid-May, posting comments and pictures from another cockpit.

The Last Flight Curse

2013-04-04T06:58:00.001-05:00

I don't know what it is with me and last flights. My last flight as a freight pilot? Nightmare. My last flight as a regional airline pilot? Nightmare. I flew my last trip as an MD80 First Officer yesterday and it was...no big surprise...a total nightmare. Here’s the story of all three.

My days as a freight pilot were mercifully few. I worked for a small company that primarily flew cancelled checks around for the banks. I had a nightly run in a Beech Baron that departed around 8pm from Corpus Christi, Texas and made stops in San Antonio, Dallas, and Austin before landing back in Corpus about the time the sun was coming up. It wasn't a great job, but it was a fast way to build the twin engine time I needed to make the next step in my career, and at $18,500 per year, I felt like a Rockefeller. It may not seem like much money now, but it was a fortune to me back then.

I flew single pilot with no radar, storm scope, autopilot or flight director in airplanes that I wouldn't let my worst enemy in today. The planes were pieced together and poorly maintained and over the door to the flight line hung a sign that read "Don't be late, penetrate." They were, of course, referring to thunderstorms and the company's desire for pilots to take the shortest route possible in the interest of saving a dollar. They convinced the Principal Operations Inspector at the FAA that the sign was a joke, but we all knew better and were constantly reminded of the line of pilots waiting at the back door to fill our shoes.

On the last leg of my last night, I was turning final approach to Corpus Christi when I moved the landing gear handle to the down position only to have it come off in my hand. I was tired, flying in poor weather conditions, low on fuel and the wheels were falling off my chariot...so to speak.

I executed a missed approach and turned circles in the sky while I performed the emergency gear extension procedure. The gear had to be manually cranked down and I can tell you from experience that the process is no easy task for a single pilot in nasty weather. I was very happy to say goodbye to that job.

Thank you sir, may I have another?

My last day as a regional airline pilot was like a perfect storm...almost literally. I was an EMB-120 Captain with a scheduled layover in Lynchburg, Virginia for my last night on the job. The next day was supposed to include an early morning flight from Lynchburg to Atlanta, Georgia before continuing on to Meridian, Mississippi, Alexandria, Louisiana, Dallas, Texas, Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, followed by one last leg back to Dallas. It was going to be a long day even if everything went smoothly...but that wasn't going to happen.

The perfect storm I mentioned before was a hurricane that traveled up the eastern seaboard of the United States and moved out to sea before reversing course, making landfall for a second time and stalling-out near Lynchburg where it was eventually downgraded to a tropical depression. We arrived at the airport that morning in a driving rainstorm, strong gusty winds and a plane-full of bright shining faces looking to us for some reassurance that it would be safe to fly. It would be safe or we wouldn't go, but it was not going to be pleasant.

With no known air traffic delays, we boarded the passengers, loaded the cargo and, as we were closing the door for departure, a light illuminated in the cockpit warning us of a potentially dangerous leak in a bleed line.

Many airplanes, the EMB-120 included, are equipped with an Auxiliary Power Unit. The APU is a small jet engine used to provide air and electricity when the engines are not running. Air, commonly known as bleed air, is taken from the compressor section of both the APU and the engines and is very hot, often described as a blow torch and easily hot enough to start a fire if a leak developed in just the wrong place.

The passengers, already wet from their first walk across the ramp, were escorted back through the rain to the terminal. Two hours passed before my airplane was repaired and ready for another attempt at flight. During that time, many of my passengers were rebooked on another airline - they didn't have any better luck than we were having. Their flight taxied out to the runway, but was unable to achieve takeoff power on one of the engines and was forced to abort the takeoff. Back to the gate they went and through the rain the passengers walked...again. But all was not lost, as my airplane was all signed off and ready to go. Rebooked onto my flight, these poor people traipsed through the rain one last time on their way to my airplane. Hopefully things would go better this time.

We closed the doors, started engines and taxied out to the runway. Unlike the competition...I really have no justification to brag...my engines produced the power we needed and after a short roll into a strong headwind, we were airborne. I asked for "landing gear up" and the First Officer raised the gear handle. There were no complicated gear door assemblies to be sequenced open and shut on this airplane, so the gear usually came up both quickly and quietly. This time, as the nose wheel rose into the fuselage, one of the gear doors came loose from its hydraulic actuator and began slapping loudly against the nose of the airplane.

Did I mention we were basically flying through a hurricane? The rain was coming down hard and the air was so turbulent that I was constantly testing the limits of my seat belt and having a difficult time focusing on the flight instruments. We notified the departure controller of our situation and requested an immediate return to the airport. Unfortunately, there had not been any arrivals yet that morning, so the controller working our flight was unaware...that was his story anyway...of a 50 knot tailwind on final that sheared to a 25 knot quartering headwind at around 1,000 feet above touchdown. Since he wasn't planning on such an unusually high groundspeed, his first attempt to vector us onto the localizer failed miserably and we were forced to go-around. The second attempt was more successful and we managed to get our broken plane back on solid ground.

Needless to say, the passengers had had about all they could take. Honestly, who could blame them, I was pretty frustrated myself. The airplane was small, and even with a full load of passengers, I was able to walk to the cabin and speak with them face to face about all that had transpired during the last few hours. I tried to lighten the mood without appearing unprofessional and jokingly explained that everything that had happened was my fault as it was my last day on the job. "Murphy's law strikes again," I told them.

Somehow, I was able to convince everyone that I was not incompetent, that the airplane was not a hunk of junk, and that they could trust me to provide safe, but unpleasant, passage to Atlanta. To my surprise, only one person decided not to go and that was only because he had already missed a business meeting. Off we went...again.

This time we made it to Atlanta without incident, but arrived so late that my connecting flight had long since departed with another cockpit crew. My last paid leg as a regional airline pilot was deadheading in first class on a Lockheed L-1011. I couldn't have planned it better if I had tried.

Thank you sir, but I've had enough!

As if tearing a page from an old play book, I woke to a driving rainstorm yesterday. I sincerely hate to complain, we need the rain and I was happy to see it, but oh how I hate the smell of my old polyester uniform when wet! I got drenched walking from the house to the car...got even wetter in the employee parking lot...and by the time I finished with my walk-around inspection there was hardly a dry place anywhere on my person. It was not a great way to start the day.

Unlike the last story, we got the flight out on time, taxied to the runway without incident and were burning a hole in the dark morning sky in short order. It was the Captain's turn to fly and in spite of the rain, the ride was relatively smooth. But then, as we climbed through 5,000 feet, my instruments went blank. Let that sink in for just a minute... It was a dark and stormy morning with the clouds below us reaching almost to the ground and at least 25,000 feet of cloud cover above us...and I had nothing to look at but blank CRT screens and an array of orange OFF flags. Thankfully, within a few seconds, my CRT screens came back to life, but I was still left with failure flags on important instruments including the altimeter, airspeed indicator, vertical speed indicator and all navigation instruments. At least I could tell which way was up!

This is how it looked after the screens came back to life. I took this picture at 35,000 ft.

Honestly though, I'm building this up like we should receive a medal or something, and the truth is it really wasn't that big of a deal. I glanced at the Captain's instrument panel and was relieved to see that his instruments were working just fine. The problem on my side was caused by a failed Central Air Data Computer (CADC) and with the flip of a single switch, the Captain's information could be displayed on my instrument panel. Crisis averted. As long as whatever had afflicted my instruments was not somehow contagious, the flight would continue as if nothing had occurred.

Also in the interest of honesty, this all occurred on my last trip, but not my last day. I enjoyed my last layover before school starts later this week when I'll be forced to take daily rations from the proverbial fire hose. I've done a lot of preparation for my upcoming transition to the Boeing 737 and last night was the last no stress night I will enjoy for at least a month. I brought along a good book, watched some TV and drifted off to sleep early. Today is my last day as an MD80 First Officer...and unless you hear differently, I've broken the "last flight curse" and the day went off without a hitch. Wish me luck!

****UPDATE****

I'm adding this after the fact to let you know that the "last flight curse" has NOT been broken. I flew the MD80 for 13 years and put just over 9,000 hours in my logbook during that time. In all my years on the plane, I only saw the failure described above once...now I've seen it twice. On my last flight, I was at the controls and had just intercepted the localizer course on an ILS approach when a very similar failure caused my Primary Flight Display (top screen) and my Navigation Display (bottom screen) to go blank. (I took the picture below after landing, but you get the idea.)

Again, to be perfectly honest, this is a similar, but different problem. You might notice that the first failure caused all altitude and speed information to disappear from view...caused by a failure of the #2 Central Air Data Computer. The problem I encountered on my last flight kept all air data information in view, but removed all heading and attitude information...caused by a failure of the #2 IRS system. There were two ways to get information back on my screens. We could either display the Captain's information on my screens or select a degraded attitude mode on the #2 IRS. With the flip of a switch, we chose to display the Captain's information on my screens and I was able to complete my last approach and landing.

As bad as it was, I must admit it was bitter sweet to walk away from the MD80 for the last time. You may think differently after reading this post, but the MD80, while old, is both exceptionally reliable and safe to fly. I'm not convinced that I won't be back to the fly the old girl as a Captain before the fleet is retired, so I guess I'll be holding on to all my old notes and manuals. Until then, I will admire this plane from a distance.

When is it appropriate to share concerns with the crew?

2013-04-02T08:28:00.000-05:00

Over the years, I've poked fun and made light of more than a few questions and comments heard from passengers. Some have been silly, some unexpectedly insightful and others genuinely helpful, but a recent question from a reader highlighted the need for some clarification.

If you have a genuine concern...don't hesitate to ask.

Generally speaking, passenger questions fall into one of three categories: 1) Common questions easily explained and needing no further investigation. 2) Questions that can be easily explained, but require some investigation by the crew...just to make sure, and 3) Questions or comments that bring potentially serious concerns to the crew's attention.

The first category is both the least serious and the most common, including question like I've answered in two recent posts: "What is that thing on the MD80 nose wheel?" and "Something odd about MD80 flight controls?" In these posts, I explained the spray deflector installed on the MD80 nose gear assembly and gave a short systems lesson on flight controls to explain why the elevators on an MD80 often move in opposite directions...that isn't normal on most airplanes. There are dozens of other common examples...the clunk heard when the landing gear comes up or down...the scrapping sound heard as the slats retract...the repeated thump of flight controls blowing in the wind while on the ground...all questions that I hear almost every time I go to work...all questions I can answer confidently without investigation.

I had a passenger recently who stopped by the cockpit on his way off the jet to ask why we had elected not to use the right engine. He was completely sincere and at first, I thought maybe he was referring to the fact that we had shut the engine down during taxi-in. It is common to taxi on one engine to conserve fuel. He explained that his seat was located a few rows forward of the right engine and that he had a clear view into the inlet. "It never moved," he told us. I explained to him that the first thing you see when looking into the inlet of a Pratt & Whitney JT8D are the inlet guide vanes...their purpose is to guide the air smoothly through the engine and they don't move. The first stage fan blades are visible past the inlet guide vanes, but they're moving so fast that they don't look like they're moving, but I assure you they are. I tried very hard to convince him of this, but I'm pretty sure he left convinced we had just flown an entire flight on one engine!

The second category includes questions that I am relatively sure pose no danger to the flight and can, with relative certainty, be explained to a concerned passenger without investigation. But if there is even the slightest possibility that something could actually be wrong with the airplane, I always take a closer look and verify the condition of the jet.

For instance, at least once a month in the winter, a passenger will tell one of the flight attendants that something is leaking from the wing. Rest assured...when you share something of this nature with the cabin crew, they will absolutely pass your concerns on to the cockpit, but the most likely culprit is deicing fluid. I am repeatedly amazed by the length of time it takes for deicing fluid to blow off the wings and airframe. If an airplane is deiced in Chicago and flown four hours to San Diego at roughly 500 miles per hour, there will still be fluid dripping off the wings after landing. Not only is the stuff as thick as molasses when cold, but a single drop looks like a flowing river in the airflow over the wing...easily mistaken for a severe fuel leak in direct sunlight.

The question can be easily explained, but requires investigation from the crew to make sure. Your pilots are continually monitoring fuel usage on any flight. They keep fuel logs and record the amount of fuel over each waypoint on the flight plan and compare planned fuel burn to actual several times an hour. Also, with fuel in multiple tanks, they verify that fuel burns evenly to prevent an excessive imbalance between tanks that could potentially exceed the operating limitations of the aircraft. All of this is happening even without a suspected fuel leak, but after such a concern is raised, extra time and effort will go into monitoring engine parameters and fuel usage. If there is a problem, and there almost never is, the crew will be aware it and on top of the situation.

The last category is exceedingly rare...a question that brings to light a potentially serious situation or discrepancy not already recognized by the crew. The real reason this sort of question is so rare is that the crew is almost always already well aware of anything genuinely serious. While the sea of cockpit instruments may seem foreign and confusing to anyone not trained to use them, they make perfect sense to the cockpit crew who is constantly using them to interpret the condition of the aircraft. Not to mention, modern aircraft are quite adept at monitoring themselves.

Also in this category would go questions about how the airplane is being operated...like failure to lower flaps on takeoff. I'm sorry to say this one has happened and the crash of Delta Air Lines flight 1141 in August of 1988 is a sad, but true example. DL1141, a Boeing 727-200, lined up on runway 18L and held on the runway to allow wake turbulence to dissipate from a previously departed DC-10. Once cleared to depart, the takeoff roll was normal, but as the jet lifted off the runway it began to roll violently, impacted the runway with the right wing tip, then struck an ILS localizer antenna array 1,000 feet past the end of the runway. Two of the four cabin crew members and 12 of the 101 passengers lost their lives. [1] [2]

The probable cause of the accident: "(1) The captain and first officer's inadequate cockpit discipline which resulted in the flight crew's attempt to takeoff without the wing flaps and slats properly configured; and (2) the failure of the takeoff configuration warning system to alert the crew that the airplane was not properly configured for the takeoff.

The Takeoff Configuration Warning System is a feature available on most Transport Category Aircraft that alerts the cockpit crew if they attempt to takeoff before properly configuring their aircraft. It's one of those things I always show kids when they visit the cockpit, because the MD80 I currently fly verbally tells the pilot what isn't set correctly..."stabilizer,brakes, flaps, slats" for example. Unfortunately, in the example of DL1141, the system did not work as it should and highlights the need for strict adherence to procedures and checklist discipline. As always, there is a long chain of events that leads to any accident. Anyone on that plane could potentially have been the link that broke a tragic sequence of events.

The original question that got me thinking about this subject came from one of my readers who wanted to know when it was appropriate to share concerns with the crew. I think the answer is that it is always appropriate. Your concerns are legitimate, even if easily answered. I strongly believe we should all be a part of the safety of flight. The bottom line here is that if you, as a passenger, have a concern about the airplane, the weather, a fellow passenger or whatever else may be troubling you, don't hesitate to ask. The crew is almost surely on top of anything that may be wrong, but there is absolutely nothing wrong with making sure.

That said; if you ask me a question that I find to be amusing, entertaining or interesting in some way, don't be surprised if you read about it here.

Who Needs Prozac with a View Like This?

2013-03-28T04:54:00.000-05:00

I've said it before and I'll say it again...the view is the best part of the job.

I took these with my iPhone, so the quality isn't great, but the progression of shots mirrored my mood. It was early. My daughter's car gave out at 11pm the night before an early sign-in and I was the only one available for the rescue mission. It was WAY TOO late by the time I finally settled in for the night.

This first shot was taken between cloud layers with the sun making a desperate attempt to poke through on the horizon. Gloomy...just like my mood.

Moments later, as we climbed through the highest overcast layer, the bright sun and vibrant colors on the horizon were simply breathtaking. I know...I'm sorry...I'm being dramatic, but oh my goodness!

With the sun shining brightly on my face, my spirits were almost immediately lifted. I felt awake, alive and lucky to have a job with such a wonderful view. If I ever have to find work outside of an airline cockpit...heaven help me...the view is the thing I will miss the most.

Heading east in the climb out of Dallas on a short flight to Nashville, TN.

The Dumbest Thing I Ever Did in an Airplane

2013-03-21T07:10:00.003-05:00

Engulfed in the process of preparing for an airline interview, I did the same thing most prospective new hire pilots do...I cheated. Okay, cheated is a strong word, but in just about any testing situation that comes to mind, knowing the questions ahead of time is strictly against the rules. It's all part of the game when it comes to airline interviews. "The gouge," as it is commonly called, is a report on everything that was said and done from someone who has already been through the process. The airlines are all too aware that previous interviewees are out there sharing secrets, so over time the questions change and the process morphs to keep applicants on their toes...if you're lucky, you won't be the first one to get the new version.

As I prepared for my interview, I remember being stumped by a question that is still commonly used today. "What is the dumbest thing you have ever done in an airplane?" That question is fraught with opportunity to sink your chances of employment. Everyone has done something stupid in the cockpit. Your presence at the interview is a good indication that you lived through the experience, managed to elude the watchful eye of the FAA, and hopefully learned something in the process. How honest and forthcoming should you be? On one hand, if you share something too extreme, then you may call into question your ability to make wise and timely decisions...a personality trait incongruous with work as an airline pilot. On the other hand, denying that you have ever made some ill-advised decision as a pilot will only label you as a liar...choose wisely.

I told a story that I hope illustrated the fact that I am human, that I am not dangerous or flippant about the decisions I make in the cockpit and that I work through and learn from my mistakes. Below is a slightly more forthcoming version of what I shared.

When I look back at the early stages of my aviation career, I am amazed by some of the open doors that were presented to me. It was as if aviation was a predetermined destination. My college roommate was one of those open doors. He came from a wealthy family who owned a nationwide department store chain and a number of airplanes. Just about every member of the family either owned or had access to an airplane and most everyone had their pilot's license. My roommate was no exception and as a freshman in college, his father sent him to school with his very own Cessna 182. It was a beautiful old airplane, restored from the ground up, well equipped with all the latest avionics and what we jokingly called an "off-road" package. It had a STOL kit with drooping ailerons and fat tires for off airport landings and was capable of alarmingly short takeoff and landing rolls.

I was permitted to fly that wonderful airplane for the ridiculous sum of $15 per hour. A crazy amount for a very nice airplane...the money intended to offset future maintenance costs. I got my instrument rating in the 182 and just before I started working on my Commercial, my roommate decided he was tired of the old girl and talked good ole dad into a Cessna 210. The airplane was not new or in particularly good condition, but that would change over time.

The family also had a house near Aspen, Colorado, so one spring break, four of us loaded up the 210 and headed for the slopes. Four college kids in an expensive single-engine airplane flying into mountainous terrain...what could possibly go wrong?

As a side note, I flew small freight in a T210 a few years later. The airplane was known for its capability to fly with just about anything you could fit through the door. It was a workhorse...strong, reliable and easy to fly with a safety record that reflected its abilities. I would perform the necessary calculations to determine how much weight I could legally and safely carry and as I did this, ramp personnel would approach the airplane with a huge cart full of mail, cancelled checks, small parcels and whatever else needed be carried. I would hand the load agent a slip of paper explaining how much I could take...and amazingly...the contents of his cart weight exactly that amount.

I'm sure I don't need to explain what I am suggesting, but what an incredible coincidence! The truth was, I never knew exactly what my airplane weighed and I flew it accordingly. A little...no, make it a lot...of extra speed on takeoff and landing and the T210 always flew. It was legal on paper even if I strongly suspected foul play.

Back to the story...

We planned the trip carefully, weighed all our belongings and performed the required weight and balance calculations. Unlike my days as a freight pilot, we knew exactly what the airplane weighed. We intentionally departed early in the morning because we knew it was against airport rules, not to mention unnecessarily dangerous, to land in Aspen after dark. In the early morning hours on the first day of spring break, my roommate performed a walk-around inspection of the 210 while the rest of us loaded the aircraft per the plan.

Lesson one: Trust but verify.

Three of the four of us were pilots, me included. My roommate, as the owner of the airplane, had ample experience and enough time in the 210 to be reasonably comfortable in the pilot seat. He chose to fly. I had around 500 hours flight experience at the time, was current and checked out in the airplane and claimed the other front seat. In the back was a friend who was not a pilot and one more friend who had more flying experienced than the rest of us put together. There was plenty of knowledge and experience in the airplane that day; we had planned the trip meticulously and expected a safe and smooth flight. What I did not know, was that my good friend who performed the pre-flight inspection had not secured the cap after checking the engine oil.

After an uneventful engine start and taxi, we sat at the end of the runway for several minutes performing checklist and a run-up inspection on the engine and flight instruments. The tower cleared us for takeoff and within a minute, we were climbing past the departure end of the runway. I vividly remember the moment right before all hell broke loose. I took a deep breath of brisk spring air and marveled out my window at the colorful morning sky.

Loud cursing from the left seat rose above the sound of the engine and brought me back from my daydream. I moved to look in the direction of all the commotion but what grabbed my attention a huge blackish brown glob of liquid quickly filling the windscreen. My friend immediately banked the airplane into a hard right hand turn, but he had a lack of understanding when it came to accelerated stalls that almost resulted in a loss of control. The fact that we could barely see anything out the window combined with emergency radio calls to the tower and my repeated efforts to override my buddy and his attempts to stall the airplane terminated with a smooth landing on a cross-runway before the engine seized.

We rolled off the runway under our own power and promptly shut down the engine. It couldn't have been more than a minute or two before an airport crash, fire and rescue team arrived to assist. A quick inspection confirmed that the engine oil cap had not been properly secured and luckily, what looked like gallons of oil on the window was actually a fairly small percentage of what was available to lubricate the engine. We had the plane towed to the hangar, inspected, cleaned up and topped off with both oil and fuel before we made a second and more successful attempt to depart.

I honestly cannot remember a time before or after this trip when I flew in a small plane and did not perform my own walk-around inspection. Lesson learned. If you have the opportunity to do so, verify the condition and readiness of your craft...even if you're just a passenger.

Lesson Two: Just because it's legal doesn't make it smart.

Other than bruised egos, the only real consequence of the morning's events was a complete trashing of our carefully planned schedule. The route of flight that day was planned from College Station, Texas (KCLL) to Dallas Love Field (KDAL) to pick up some ski equipment and fuel, then non-stop to Aspen, Colorado (KASE) in day VFR conditions. A significantly tardy departure on the first leg of the trip meant we would not arrive in Aspen during daylight hours. The consensus was that we would press on to Albuquerque, New Mexico (KABQ) for another fuel stop, then fly a night leg between Albuquerque and Grand Junction, Colorado (KGJC) where we would leave the plane and rent a car.

You know the little voice in your head that warns of impending disaster? I had a long conversation with that voice before we departed Albuquerque...at night...over, or rather through, mountainous terrain...in an old, single engine airplane that I didn't know well enough to trust. It was not a wise decision.

I am reminded of countless conversations I've had over the years as a professional pilot with crew schedule, line maintenance and flight dispatch. I would hate to admit how many times I have uttered the words "it may be legal, but it isn't safe and I'm not doing it." Not surprisingly, once the safety of flight is brought into question, I rarely get push back from the other end of that conversation. But on this flight, worn down after a long travel day and suffering from a severe case of "get-there-itis," the conversation was internal and I didn't heed my own advice.

With my old roommate at the controls once again, we departed Albuquerque on a visual flight plan under high overcast clouds and a moonless sky...it was very dark. We went out of our way to fly protected IFR routing and were forced to climb to 12,500 feet just to remain a minimum distance above terrain. Anyone who has ever flown a single engine airplane over mountainous terrain, open water or anywhere else where options are few will tell you they become very in-tune with their airplane.

As we continued along V391 between Dove Creek and Grand Junction, the last leg of our journey, I clearly remember every little hiccup and burble from the engine. Every ripple in the air sent chills down my spine. I remember watching white topped mountain peaks slip by at about our altitude, some above, barely visible in the night, wondering if or when we would be found if the engine quit. Allow me to repeat myself. It was not a wise decision.

As the old saying goes...I would rather be lucky than good. We got lucky that night. Tired and armed with few options for escape in the event of some unforeseen calamity, we were granted safe passage and allowed to cheat death another day. After an unnervingly stressful flight, we let down in a circle pattern over the relative safety of a well-lit Grand Junction, Colorado. As we walked away from the airplane, the little voice in my head was scolding me for not paying more attention to my concerns. I vowed to never let it happen again.

As for the interview, I was offered a job at both the companies where I shared this story, so all I really know is that my choice didn't get me blackballed. I suggest you choose carefully...and listen to that little voice.

A Dose Of My Own Medicine

2013-03-14T07:47:00.002-05:00

I recently enjoyed a short vacation from the glamorous life of a junior First Officer and 10 hour layovers at the airport hotel in Des Moines...if you could see my face or hear the tone in my voice, the sarcasm would be more clear. My daughters were on spring break, my wife was able to get some time off from her busy schedule, so with the ability to fly almost anywhere in the world for pennies on the dollar, we packed our bags and headed for the airport.

Most people view flying for free as one of the greatest benefits of working for the airlines, but it is a perk that comes with significant traps and pit falls. Careful planning and flexibility is required for a trip to a desirable location at popular times of the year...like the beach during spring break. The single most difficult aspect of utilizing this benefit is the simple fact that airplanes to all the good destinations will be full, so last minute planning is the name of the game.

This year, my daughter requested...wait for it...the beach. I checked flights to Mexico, Hawaii, the Caribbean and the Bahamas...just to name a few...and the flights were already full weeks in advance. For whatever reason, there were a handful of flight to Los Angeles with open seats, so off we went. I reserved a room within walking distance of the beach and the Santa Monica Pier, rented car and paid for the whole thing with airline miles. No money out of pocket for the plane ride, hotel or ground transportation meant a relaxing and inexpensive vacation.

One week before departure, there were 50 available seats on our flight. Two days before departure, there were still 20 open seats. One day before departure, the flights were beginning to fill up and at 6pm the night before we were supposed to leave, our flight was oversold by 5. Actually, every flight that day was suddenly full. However, if we threw our stuff in the car and headed for the airport, there was still flight that night (the day before our planned departure) with 10 available seats. However, in the ten minutes it took me to confer with my wife, that flight sold out as well. I'm not sure what caused such a mad rush for seats, but LA was getting very popular.

We decided to stick with the original plan, got up at 4am to catch the first flight to LA and thanks to a few people who didn't show up, we somehow managed to get the last three seats on the plane. Crisis averted.

I know you couldn't care less about how we spent our time in LA, so I'll skip to the flight home, which should have been much less stressful. Ask any airline employee and they will tell you that there are good and bad days of the week to fly. Personally, I avoid Sunday, Monday and Friday non-rev travel at all costs. We planned to fly on notoriously light travel days, and on the morning of our flight home, every plane still had plenty of available seats...right up until two hours before departure when they cancelled one of the flights.

Once again, we stuck with the plan and managed to get the last three seats on the plane. The picture below is from the last row, middle seat between the engines of an MD80. I'm convinced they save this seat for me when I fly.

Our flight left the gate a few minutes ahead of schedule and after a short taxi we were climbing westbound over the beach...I'm sure the view was beautiful, but all we could see out the window was the left side of a noisy JT8D. Then, about two and a half hours into the flight as we began to descend...we also started to turn...in the wrong direction. My daughter, who was sitting by the window, had a sliver of a view past the engine and fuselage and commented how pretty the sky looked. "Pretty like blue or pretty like clouds?" I asked. "Pretty like clouds, Daddy." An impenetrable line of severe thunderstorms had developed between us and the airport and all arrivals from the west were closed.

A few minutes later, the Captain got on the PA and made the announcement I knew was coming. I already knew thunderstorms were in the forecast, so prior to leaving LA, I pulled the flight plan to see how much extra fuel we had on board. I even mentioned to my wife at the time that we seemed to have a lot of extra fuel for holding. "That's never a bad thing," I told her.

From my seat without a view, I could tell that we reversed course away from the weather and entered a holding pattern. The Captain informed us that the airport was now closed to all arrivals and that the line of thunderstorms was moving quite slowly. I learned later that the storms had only moved 100-150 miles in a 24 hour period. It was only a matter of time before we would have to divert for fuel.

The pilots only made one more turn in holding before we started an aggressive descent. That either meant the airport was open or we were diverting. A few minutes later, another PA from the Captain confirmed that we would be landing in Oklahoma City in twenty minutes. Time to put a backup plan in action. I quickly got out my iPad and logged onto a popular travel site. I knew the WI/FI signal would die around 10,000 feet and we were coming down fast. I wanted a car reservation in case the you-know-what really hit the fan or the flight cancelled. It must have been pretty close, but I hit the enter key one last time before we lost the internet connection and I had a one-way reservation in case I needed one. We were on the ground a short time later.

I should really take a moment to compliment the ground crew in OKC. Within 30 minutes of our arrival, we had new paperwork, fuel in the wings and were all buttoned up and ready to go. A van came by and provided extra provisions for the cabin crew and offered to take anyone back to the terminal who didn't want to continue on the flight. One person was even given the opportunity to take her dog to a grassy area for a potty break. That was as much a gift to us as it was to the dog...if you know what I mean!

Unfortunately, the weather would not cooperate. After an hour, the only word from Air Traffic Control was that we would have another update in an hour. A quick check of the radar revealed that the weather hadn't even arrived at the airport yet. We could be sitting on the ramp for hours. I gave up at this point and asked to get off the jet. Five minutes later, transportation arrived and we were carrying our bags onto the ramp past the noisy exhaust note of the APU.

One of my favorite things about the MD80 is the ease of access provided by aft stairs. Passengers on just about any other large airplane are stranded without the assistance of portable stairs that may or may not be available at some airports, but if you are lucky enough to be on an MD80 during a diversion, there's a built-in exit for a quick and simple escape.

Three hours later, I was sitting in my driveway. The rain was still coming down hard and I got drenched unloading the car, but we were home. I carried my little girl into the house and tucked her into bed before I had a chance to check on the flight we abandoned. As much as I hated knowing all those people were inconvenienced for so long, I felt vindicated to learn the flight still hadn't left Oklahoma City.

I've always heard that doctors make terrible patients. I think the same can be said for pilots as passengers. The simple truth is that we know too much and don't like being left in the dark. Most of us, me included, would much prefer a seat in the cockpit with hands literally on the situation to even the most comfortable seat in the cabin. I kept that in mind as I sat in row 32 and generally kept my mouth shut. "Sit down, shut up, keep your feet off the furniture...and if you push the Flight Attendant call button you're dead!" That's what I told my daughter...in jest of course, but it was good advice for me too.

What is that thing on the MD80 nose wheel?

2013-03-07T04:02:00.000-06:00

"Hey guys, you appear to be dragging something."

There are a number of odd things about the MD80 that result in frequent questions from passengers and aviation enthusiasts...I've already written about two of my favorites, the one-up one-down elevator and the difficult to find wet compass. Another question I hear on a regular basis is in reference to "that thing" I'm dragging from the nose wheel.

The question usually comes from passengers, since most avgeeks (that's a term of endearment by the way) and tower controllers are already familiar with this unique aspect of the MD80. So on a recent flight when the question came from someone I considered to be "in-the-know," I found myself wondering if I really was dragging something.

I was the First Officer on an MD80 departing Chicago O'hare on my way to Phoenix, Arizona. About the time we reached cruise altitude, Chicago Center relayed a message from a tower controller back at O'hare who wanted us to know that we had apparently been dragging something before we departed. The captain and I were surprised by the this information and couldn't imagine why the controller would not have said something to us before we took off. We were also thrown off because the message indicated that whatever we were dragging was attached to one of the main wheels. If we had been told something was attached to the nose wheel then we would most likely have disregarded the message. We are, after all, used to that one...even from an unlikely source.

We had a long flight ahead of us with plenty of time to decide how we wanted to handle the situation...no need to return to Chicago. If there was something wrong with the jet, they could certainly handle it in Phoenix. After a while, we decided what we really wanted was more information, so we got on the phone with our dispatcher and asked for clarification. Which main wheel...left or right? How big was this thing? Was it sucked up into the wheel well as the gear came up?

The picture above is the left main wheel of the MD80 I was flying that day. As you can see, there is a similar, but significantly smaller contraption attached. The debris deflector is designed to keep lose objects from the runway and tire fragments following a blown tire on takeoff from being ingested into the engine. Oddly enough, I can't ever remember anyone asking what it is or why it's there. I suppose it's small enough not to be noticed.

As it turned out, the question had not originated from the Chicago control tower...they had simply relayed information that was somehow sent to them from the terminal. A passenger waiting for his flight saw us taxi past and noticed this "thing" hanging from our nose wheel. That's right...nose wheel. Most of the information we had received until now was incorrect. The whole thing reminded me of a game I played as kid where we all sat in a circle and whispered some phrase from person to person until it got back to the person who started. The message that got back to the original sender never sounded anything like what was started. The message sent our way had definitely been lost in translation.

The "thing" we were dragging was actually a spray deflector designed to minimize water and slush ingestion into our tail mounted engines during takeoff and landing. There's a long list of airplanes with aft mounted engines that do not require a spray deflector, so the question is...why does the MD80 need one when other similarly designed jets do not? In all honesty, the answer to this question is not one that has ever been explained to me by my employer and I haven't had any luck finding an official answer.

My guess is that the unique geometry of the MD80 makes the spray deflector a necessity. The length and shape of the fuselage, the location and height of the wing, and the distance from the nose wheel tires to the engines must present a unique situation that makes water and slush ingestion possible on this particular airplane. McDonnell Douglas' answer to the problem was the spray deflector.

Another option to prevent such ingestion is the shape of the nose wheel tires. Pictured below is the nose wheel assembly on a Boeing 727. Take a look at the nose wheel tires and you will see that the tires are designed with a "chin" that serves to deflect fluid away from the 727's aft mounted engines. The chinned tires on the 727 are lighter than the spray deflector on an MD80, but they are also more expensive. The two aircraft makers...Boeing and McDonnell Douglas...had to make their own decisions about where to spend the money. Up front on the spray deflector or down the road on more expensive tires.

While the chinned tires on the 727 may be more expensive, there is one significantly negative aspect of the MD80 spray deflector in that it has been know to cause problems with the normal extension and retraction of the nose landing gear. The following is from a September 2003 NTSB report:

"On September 2, 2003, a McDonnell Douglas DC-9-82 (MD-82) was substantially damaged during an emergency landing at the John F. Kennedy International Airport (JFK) after the flightcrew was unable to extend the nose landing gear. While on final approach to EWR, the landing gear was lowered; however, the nose gear indicator red light remained illuminated and the nose landing gear indicator pin did not extend. The First Officer, who was flying at the time, executed a missed approach and flew air traffic control vectors while the Captain attempted to troubleshoot the problem. After performing emergency checklists, which included the emergency gear extension checklist, the captain diverted to JFK, and performed a low approach over runway 4L, a 11,351-foot-long, 150-foot-wide, asphalt runway. Ground personnel who observed the airplane stated that the nose gear doors were partially open, however, the nose gear was not visible. The captain subsequently performed an emergency landing to runway 4L, with the nose landing gear retracted. After the airplane came to a stop, the passengers deplaned via the aft door exit. No injuries were reported from the 2 pilots, 3 flight attendants, or the 133 passengers on board at the time of the incident."

Investigators discovered the polyurethane nose landing gear spray deflector "fractured near the middle, and found in two sections. The right section of the spray deflector had rotated about 180 degrees, and was found wedged between the nose landing gear and the right side of the wheel-well structure. The nose landing gear tire was above the wedged spray deflector section. The left section of the spray deflector was found in it's original position with the nose landing gear retracted." 1

Damage to the spray deflector was determined to be the cause of the incident. You may now consider yourself to be in-the-know. No need for alarm. We aren't dragging anything that isn't supposed to be there.

Something Odd About MD80 Flight Controls

2013-02-28T07:59:00.000-06:00

One up, one down...okay for ailerons, not elevators!

One up, one down...normal for ailerons, not elevators.

It is commonly known that there is something unusual about the elevators on an MD80 that causes them to move in opposite directions while sitting on the ground. There are a lot of people out there who know just enough about aerodynamics and aircraft systems to know this isn't right, so I regularly find myself engaged in an MD80 systems lesson with a concerned passenger. What you may not know, is that the elevators are not the only unusual flight control system on the McDonnell Douglas MD80.

A small amount of aeronautical knowledge is needed to fully appreciate this post, so allow me to provide a quick lesson. I'll keep it short and simple...consider this Flight Controls 101.

figure 1

figure 2

An airplane moves on three axes, longitudinal, lateral and vertical (figure 1). Elevators, located on the trailing edge of the horizontal stabilizer, control movement on the lateral axis (pitch) as the pilot pushes or pulls on the flight controls. Pull back and the houses get smaller, push forward and the houses get bigger. Ailerons, located on the trailing edge of each wing, move opposite of each other and control the aircraft on its longitudinal axis (roll). This part is very much like driving a car. When the pilot moves the controls to the left, the aileron located on the right wing lowers while the aileron on the left wing rises. This opposite movement causes the aircraft to roll to the left. The rudder, located on the trailing edge of the vertical stabilizer, controls the aircraft on its vertical axis (yaw). Two pedals located at the pilot's feet move the rudder to the left and right in order to pivot the aircraft. Rudders serve a number of other purposes, but when airborne, rudder inputs help coordinate turns and aid in aligning the aircraft with the runway during crosswind operations (find the ailerons, elevators and rudder in figure 2).

Now for the rest of the story...

With most conventional airplanes, flight control inputs from the pilot, whether stick, control wheel or joy stick, result in immediate and direct movement of the flight control surfaces. On some planes, a combination of cables and pulleys directly manipulate flight control position, while other planes have hydraulically boosted or electrically controlled flight control surfaces that may require the involvement of on-board computer systems. Either way, and here is how the MD80 differs from the rest, the pilot usually has control over the position of all flight control surfaces, whether airborne or on the ground. I'm sure there are a few exceptions, but this is the norm.

MD80 cockpit

Rudder...

However, on the MD80, the rudder is the only primary flight control directly controlled by the pilot. Controlling the airplane on its vertical axis, rudder movement is accomplished with a two-way cable system from the rudder pedals that is mechanically controlled and hydraulically actuated in normal conditions. When the pilot steps on the rudder pedal, the rudder moves. The elevator and ailerons aren't quite that simple.

Ailerons...

The aileron and elevator systems are a little unusual in that control inputs from the pilot move small control tabs, not the actual control surfaces. Sitting on the ground, if the pilot of an MD80 moves the control wheel left and right, the control tabs move, not the ailerons. On most airplanes, if a pilot walked out onto the ramp and physically moved an aileron up and down, the control wheel in the cockpit would move as well. Not so on the MD80.

When airborne, aerodynamic forces on the control tabs move, or "fly," the ailerons into the position commanded by the pilot and control the airplane along its longitudinal axis. Cockpit control wheels are connected via pulleys and cables to the aileron control tab and are linked together by a torque tube that causes both control wheels to move together. The ailerons are also connected in such a way that each aileron must respond to movement of the opposite aileron...if one goes up, the other goes down. So at least they look normal from a distance. The elevators are another story.

Elevators...

Movement along the MD80's lateral axis (pitch) is controlled by of a pair of elevators attached to the trailing edge of the horizontal stabilizer. During normal flight, the elevators are controlled by an aerodynamic boost system that operates in the same way as the ailerons where a single control tab on each elevator "flies" it into the position commanded by the control wheel. As with the ailerons, when the pilot moves the control wheel forward and aft, the elevator does not move. Instead, only the control tabs are in motion. Each control tab is driven by an independent two-way cable system from the corresponding control column in the cockpit. However, unlike the ailerons, the elevators are not connected to one another. The elevators are weighted in such a way that they typically sit in a nose-up position, but since they are free floating and not interconnected, it is not uncommon at all to see them move in completely different directions.

MD80 control tab.

So there you have it. Much more information about the MD80 than you probably ever wanted to know. The next time you’re standing in the terminal and notice someone looking at the tail of an MD80 with a perplexed look on his or her face...clue the poor soul in and save the pilot from another systems lesson.

One up...one down. (on the ramp at San Jose Del Cabo)

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Want to know more about the MD80/DC9 series aircraft. Take a look at this web-site for a complete explanation of the differences.

Ultimate DC-9/MD-80/MD-90/MD-95 Guide

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And this post for a brief history of the DC9/MD80.

A Brief History of the DC-9/MD80 Series Aircraft

Bigger isn't always better

2013-02-21T04:46:00.000-06:00

Get your mind out of the gutter...we're talking about airplanes here!

From the outside looking in, an airline pilot's decision to move up to a larger airplane may seem obvious. After all, the larger jet pays more, goes farther and offers more prestige. In the end, it comes down a choice to chase the paycheck or to strive for a better quality of life...with the possible exception of those at the top of the seniority list, you can't have both. Either way, the decision is a personal one and isn't as straight forward as you might think. This is the story of my decision and why I made it.

Sometimes, you have to move down to move up.

The first chance I had to move up came early in my career. I was a Boeing 727 Flight Engineer, living and working in the same city and loving life. I had only been employed by the airline for a few months and memories of minimum rest layovers in the dirty, bug infested motels arranged by my previous employer were fresh on my mind. I spent the first two months at my new job commuting to Miami, Florida from my home in Texas and was very happy to have my commuting days behind me. With a short 15 minute drive to work, I swore I would never commute again.

The airline was hiring 100 pilots per month at the time, so career progression was happening fast. I loved the 727 and hoped to fly it as a First Officer, a famously cushy position. The Captain was responsible for the paperwork and bore most of the responsibility for the flight, the Flight Engineer performed the walk-arounds, many of the pre-flight duties and managed aircraft systems while the First Officer was responsible for...well...not much. His duties were often summed up by the following rhyme: "Window heat, pitot heat, what's to eat?" From the perspective of a Flight Engineer, that little saying seemed fairly accurate. I expected the job to mine within a few months.

Then it came to my attention that the airline was short of Airbus A300 First Officers in New York. With good reason, they didn't want to put new hire pilots in that position, but there weren't enough internal proffers to fill the available jobs, so the decision was made to displace pilots from other assignments to fill the vacancies. Our contract allowed the airline to freeze a pilot in a particular position for almost two years after spending valuable time and resources to train him to fly a new jet. Unfortunately, that provision also allowed the company to freeze a pilot in a position even if the company forced the move. Having only recently bid farewell to the lifestyle of a commuter, heading off to New York for two years was a depressing thought to say the least.

The company's solution was to displace Flight Engineers with six months service onto the A300...and the only way to avoid the assignment was to bid and receive another First Officer position. I was bound and determined not to commute again, so I placed a bid for the right seat of anything and everything at my home base in Texas. I wanted the Boeing 727, thought I would get the Fokker F100, but ended up with an award to the MD80. The decision to make that first move was largely made for me and was considered an upgrade even though I was moving to a smaller jet. That was 13 years ago and the events of the past ten years cemented MD80 FO as a relatively permanent position.

It's comical now, but I had big plans for my career progression and the MD80 was not part of the plan. My dad, a retired 767 International Captain, warned me not to stay on the 80 too long. "Stay on that darn thing too long and you might decide you like it," he said. Well, apparently I stayed too long because I have decided that I like the MD80. She may be old technology, but pulleys and cables work just fine and the old girl is surprising reliable for her age. Plus, there is comfort in the familiarity that goes with spending this much time on a single aircraft. As of today, I have nearly 9,000 hours in the right seat of the "Mad Dog" and I'm fairly certain I will miss her when she's gone.

Seniority

In the absence of any sort of merit based system, just about every aspect of an airline pilot's life is based on his seniority, and not just his seniority within the company. Each airline, each airplane, each seat, each base...all have their own seniority system. That isn't to say that there is more than one seniority list at a given airline, only that each specific area has its own, individual ecosystem. I use my company-wide seniority number to bid the city where I wish to be based. Within my base, seniority determines which airplane I will bid and fly. Once assigned to a particular airplane, seniority determines which seat I occupy, what days I work, where I spend my layovers, how early or late I have to work, when I take vacation...it goes on and on and everything comes down to seniority.

For various reasons, some bases are more senior than others and I have an affinity for senior bases...go figure. I could fly a larger, better paying airplane at a more junior base, but I like where I live and again...I'm not interested in commuting. Within my base, the larger airplanes pay more, but they are also populated by more senior pilots, so I may chose to remain on a smaller airplane longer to have more control over my schedule and vacation choices. Captains are paid more than First Officers, but it takes seniority to make Captain, so I may choose to forgo the pay raise and remain a First Officer longer than I must. Everything comes down to a personal choice between quality of life and paycheck.

Muddying the waters

I have written before about the fact that the past ten years were not good to me and my career. I spent much of that time on reserve, and in spite of my hatred for commuting, was forced out of base and into a situation that required commuting across the country to get to work. It was not pleasant, but there is light at the end of the tunnel. We are finally buying new airplanes, growing into new markets, recalling furloughed pilots and upgrading pilots into the captain's seat. Our recently announced merger with another airline may or may not present opportunities for advancement...time will tell on that one, but I am cautiously optimistic.

Last year, with my seniority finally moving in the right direction, I spent Christmas and Thanksgiving with my family. I was home for birthdays, anniversaries and most of the important dates my wife puts on her "wish list" each month while I'm bidding for my schedule. My seniority is finally buying me some of the "quality of life" I've missed out on for so long. So late last year, when the opportunity presented itself to move up to a larger airplane, I had some thinking to do and have, until now, resisted the temptation to move up.

My seniority on the MD80 puts me near the middle of the list, which is senior enough to enjoy the benefits I've described. I am off reserve, fly between 80 and 90 hours every month and enjoy some control over my schedule. I am now senior enough hold First Officer on the Boeing 757/767 here at my home base...so no commuting either way, but here's where the waters get muddy. I would be the bottom, most junior pilot on the Boeing and would only be paid the minimum guaranteed pay of 73 hours per month. Given the number of hours I fly per month on the MD80, the increased hourly rate on the 757/767 would actually result in a decrease in net pay if I made the move. I would be losing the paycheck and the quality of life...just to fly a bigger jet.

Getting off a dying airplane

Another reason to consider a change is the fact that the MD80 is beginning to show signs of a dying fleet. We have been the largest MD80 operator in the world for a very long time and in 2003 owned 362 MD80s. We quietly lost that distinction recently as we continue to send our oldest jets on one last flight to the desert. As the fleet continues to shrink, the number of choices and the quality of flying available to me will continue to shrink as well. It is impossible to know exactly when this will happen, but the MD80 fleet will eventually reach a tipping point where the quality of flying is so poor that pilots will begin bidding off in droves. At that point, it could be very difficult to get off...essentially stranding the junior pilots. I would like to make a move before that happens.

The number of MD80 and B737 aircraft on the property by year.

Decision time

It's time for a change, but I should probably be careful what I wish for or at least specify change for good. After all, I have seen things go backwards before and don't need that kind of change. If I stay on the MD80, I will eventually get stuck and could even find myself back on reserve. If I bid 757/767 Domestic, I would enjoy flying a much larger and more advanced airplane, but would have to accept a pay cut in the process. 757/767 or 777 International are positions that would result in a slight pay raise, but I don't have enough seniority to make those moves. I would most likely be able to hold the Airbus A319/321 when they arrive later this summer, but there are too many question marks about flying a new fleet...plus I'm ready to move now. That only leaves the Boeing 737. The jet would not come with a pay raise, but it would not come with a reduction in pay either.

I placed my bid today and expect I will be awarded the position sometime in early March with training most likely during the month of April. I haven't decided what the blog will look like while I'm in training. I have a few posts ready and waiting to go, but may elect to change the format during that time to be more of a daily log of my training experience. I'll keep you posted on that...and the results of the bid.

My wish list...number 8 is the one I'll get.

Gate to Gate with an Electronic Flight Bag

2013-02-14T09:54:00.002-06:00

Happily replacing a 50 lb. Flight Bag with an iPad

I have been carrying an iPad and participating in an Electronic Flight Bag (EFB) program for a little over a year now. The ability to use an EFB has been an option at my airline for several years, but the iPad was only approved a little over a year ago, and even then it was not approved for all phases of flight. This week, after more than a year of FAA observed testing and evaluation, I finally flew my first flight using an EFB from gate to gate. The EFB program is a huge leap forward and I'm thrilled to shed the extra weight of my manuals, but it will take some time to get comfortable with the change.

Before the iPad became an alternative, a laptop computer was the only EFB option available to our pilots and it was required to be completely shut down during taxi, takeoff, landing and most operations below 10,000 feet. Since the EFB was not usable during all phases of the operation, pilots were still required to carry paper manuals, and the EFB was just something else to carry. That, combined the cumbersome nature of a laptop in the cockpit and the extended time required to restart most computers, resulted in a relatively small number of participants in the program.

I elected to participate last year after the iPad was approved as a replacement for the standard laptop. It still wasn't approved to be used from gate to gate, but the ease of operation and quick boot time made the iPad a viable option worth my time and money. I say it was worth my money, because the company did not purchase iPads for our pilots until earlier this year. If I wanted to take part, I would have to purchase my own.

So with my new toy in hand, I happily signed up, completed the required training course and downloaded my electronic manuals. At that time I was permitted to jettison three large binders that resulted in a significant reduction in the weight of my almost 50 pound flight bag. My aging back would like to offer sincere thanks to those who made the EFB program a reality.

Even though I was three manuals lighter, there were other manuals that I was still required to carry since they could potentially be needed during phases of flight when the EFB was not allowed to be used...the last item on the “Before Starting Engines” checklist clearly required EFB/PEDs (Personal Electronic Devices) to be turned off. While the benefits may have seemed small in the beginning, I quickly became adept at accessing information on the iPad and found the device to be incredibly useful.

The next step was to get FAA approval for the use of iPads during all phases of flight. It probably goes without saying that seeking change to long standing policies and procedures with the blessing and cooperation of the U.S. Government was a process that required significant levels of patience. We started out with a test program on the Boeing 777, where a small number of pilots were given iPads and instructed to use them in the cockpit for what was supposed to be a one month test. It was no big surprise that the test was late to get started and ran longer than planned. But in the end, the FAA agreed that the iPad was safe for daily operations and approved them to be used as EFBs during all phases of flight.

The 737 came next, then the MD80 and finally the 757/767. Each jet had to be tested individually and approved separately, a process that took months per fleet. As of right now, the Boeing 777 and 737 fleets are completely up and running, the MD80 is approved, but iPad mounts are still being installed, and the 757/767 fleet is still in the test phase.

As an MD80 pilot, I was genuinely excited to see my first set of “RAM mounts” on a recent flight. The mount is held in place using two heavy duty suction cups that are attached to the window next to the pilot and the iPad is secured to the mount using a spring mechanism that clamps onto the top and bottom of the iPad. The mount is reasonably adjustable, allowing the pilot to place the EFB into a position easily viewed and manipulated and can be positioned vertically or horizontally at the pilot's discretion.

An internal spring clamps the iPad between the top and bottom brackets.

Heavy duty suction cups attach the mount to the window.

The iPad can be mounted in portrait...

...or landscape mode at the pilot's discretion.

Change...even the good kind...isn't always easy

It came as a mild surprise to me that quickly and efficiently navigating my way through the iPad during daily flight operations would be an adjustment...but of course, someone else had already thought of that. In order to provide pilots with the time needed to become fully acclimated with the new devices, there is a required 30 test period that starts from the first day the pilot uses a RAM mount. During this time, pilots are still required to carry all paper Jeppesen charts. Once the trial period is over, only emergency and abnormal procedures manuals will have to be carried. My kit bag will go from nearly 50 pounds to almost nothing at all.

I was elated to see that first set of RAM mounts installed in the cockpit, but as I maneuvered my into my seat for my first experience from gate to gate with an Electronic Flight Bag, I was relieved to know that I had a two and a half hour flight to experiment with the Jepp TC Pro app. Most of my experience on that first flight was positive.

Not part of the original design

Part of the problem is that none of our airplanes were originally designed to have an iPad mounted in the cockpit. The mounting location is slightly different for each fleet, but I am told that the EFB is slightly too far from the pilot on the Boeing 757/767 and a little too close on the 737. The 777 uses a completely different mounting system...high tech Velcro...and I don't know enough about it to know if the mounting location has been fondly received by the pilots. I found the mounting location on the MD80 to be a little too close and slightly awkward to manipulate, but certainly usable and easy to view.

Another issue related to the location of the mount is the fact that I now have something in my peripheral view that I am not used to seeing. Pilots are habitual in the way they sit and set up the cockpit. Everything has a place and the seat needs to be just right. Too high, too low, too close to the controls or not close enough, and it just doesn't feel right. So as small as it may seem, having something in my field of view that isn't normally there is definitely an issue with which I will have to become accustomed. The problem is amplified at night when light from the screen is an added distraction, but by the end of the day I had performed two landings, one in the light of day and one in darkness and poor visibility...both met with my standards, so I suppose the distraction is reasonable and something I will eventually grow accustomed to.

Navigating the charts

I first started using Jeppesen charts in the 1989 while working on my instrument rating. After 24 years of use, I am intimately familiar with them and readily admit that I am set in my ways when it comes to organizing them for daily use. I've used plastic yellow, green and red tabs in my Jepp binder for as long as I can remember. It's what I'm used to and I don't have to think twice about where something is when I need it. The Jepp TC Pro app allows the pilot to “favorite” airports and specific procedures, in effect allowing him to tab pages in the iPad, but this isn't the process I'm used to and it will take some adjustment. My new procedure is to "favorite" all the pages I will need for a specific flight before leaving the gate and rearrange them into the order I expect they will be needed. I inevitably miss one or two...and finding a chart I wasn't expecting to need isn't always easy in the heat of battle. I'm sure, as with all things, this will get easier as I become more familiar with the new program.

No more chart revisions?

In my humble opinion, the two greatest benefits to carrying the iPad are the reduced weight of my flight bag and the ease and speed of revisions. Unfortunately, the latter presents a few obstacles to overcome. Every pilot, from Cessna 152 to Airbus A380, is required to use current and up-to-date aeronautical charts. When I arrive at the airport for work, one of the first things I do is check my company mail box. This is where the flight office places my chart revisions. With the iPad and a reasonably fast internet connection, updating is now quick and simple, but the process could easily take an hour or more with the old paper manuals...or a poor internet signal.

I am required to have current manuals when I depart on the first leg of my trip. If an update becomes available after my first departure, then I am not responsible for its content...but there's a catch. At home, I have a cable internet connection that is fast enough to stream movies to my home PC or television. When I click the "update" button on the Jepp TC Pro iPad application, all my manuals are updated within a minute...two at the most. The internet connection available to me at work is far slower than the one I have at home and the connection available in most hotel rooms is pitiful at best. The updating process that goes so quickly and easily at home could easily take an hour or more with a slow internet connection. Sometimes with an especially slow connection, the app will give up altogether or worse, corrupt the data. In either case, the EFB is rendered useless.

There will almost definitely be a time when my manuals were current when I left the house, but out of date when I reached the airport. Without an internet connection fast enough to quickly load my subscription updates, I will either be late or illegal for my first flight. Clearly this is an issue that will have to be addressed in short order. I suspect it is one that my airline is actively attempting to solve.

As I write this, I have completed two trips with my new iPad as an EFB. I'm counting the days until my 30 trial period has expired and I'm already on the hunt for a new and much smaller Flight Bag. Regardless of any growing pains the program may be experiencing, I think the EFB is a tremendous leap forward and I am in high hopes that we will continue to find new and better ways to utilize this new technology.

Sent from my iPad

Is the "New American" growing on you yet?

2013-02-07T08:37:00.000-06:00

In all honesty, I was never a big fan of American Airlines' polished aluminum airplanes and I'm trying very hard to embrace the new look. While the polished aluminum was classic, simple and beautiful on a new airplane in the right light, I've always preferred a painted fuselage and never thought American took enough time and effort maintaining the aluminum to keep it looking the way it should. It's been a couple of weeks since the new livery was unveiled and I must admit my opinion is beginning to change. I'm not sure if the "New American" is growing on me or if I'm simply responding like a parent defending his child. My kid may have issues and may be far from perfect, but I don't need someone else to bring those deficiencies to my attention.

Virasb Vahidi, American's Chief Commercial Officer, reportedly told Today in the Sky that he thought people would "love it" but acknowledged "we are prepared for the diverse set of views we're going to get from customers." Personally, I think the logo is simple and classy, with hints of the old design while representing the airline with an attractive and improved new look that I hope will carry over into more important things like improved operational performance...which is where I wish the airline would concentrate its efforts.

Unfortunately, the new look still brings to mind a number of images that I don't think American is intending to emulate...

...just to name two.

The most controversy seems to revolve around the tail design, which looks like Liberace's patriotic piano keyboard...but without stars! I've always wondered why the US Airways logo depicted an American flag minus stars, and now I'm left wondering why American Airlines has done the same thing. With a merger between the two still a significant possibility, I can't help but winder if that wasn't an intentional nod.

Where the new design really falls flat is with the grey paint on the body of the jet. The images offered online by American are artist renditions of the real thing and have taken some liberty with reality. The drawings and computer generated images suggest a fuselage painted with a pearlescent look similar to the most recent Northwest Airlines livery in use just prior the company's merger with Delta in 2008.

I'm sad to say that I saw the real thing on the ramp at DFW last week in an unattractive flat finish that is simply boring and uninspired. If you happen to be standing in just the right spot...clear skies with the sun shining directly on the fuselage...you will see that there is some fleck in the paint, but not enough to be seen from any distance. As a matter of fact, I stood directly beneath American's newest Boeing 777-300ER this week and honestly thought the paint was flat until the sun finally broke through the clouds. AMR CEO Tom Horton said American's redesign was in the works for two years, long before the company filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy in November 2011. The paint looks more like a base coat of primer than a finished product two years in the making.

In the shade, the paint appears completely flat.

Only in direct sunlight is the fleck noticeable.

There were so many good choices. The obvious option was to leave a good thing alone, but that ship has sailed. Another idea, pictured below, is my personal favorite. Of course I've already said that I like new logo, so it isn't surprising that I like this one the best. It is simple and doesn't remind me of a Greyhound bus or Wladziu Valentino Liberace.

In the end, what really matters is that American finds a way to improve the daily operation. What management doesn't seem to understand is that if they continue to alienate the traveling public, no amount of fresh paint will save the airline from a second and possible life ending trip through bankruptcy. At the moment, American is at the bottom of all measurements of importance, lagging behind in on-time performance, flight cancellations and customer satisfaction. In the Department of Transportation's November 2012 on-time performance rankings, AA ranked dead last, 15 out of 15. In the Wall Street Journal's full year 2012 operational performance ranking, AA again ranked last in on-time performance, had the highest cancellation rate of all "major airlines," and was ranked number seven in a report titled the Ten Most-Hated Companies in America. American Airlines is on life support, and while a fresh new paint job may look nice, it isn't what the doctor ordered.

While working its way through bankruptcy, American appears to have concentrated almost solely on improving the airline's financial health while ignoring items that might actually improve the customer experience. While it may be both common and important to revamp the image of a bankrupt company, American will not survive in the long run if it does not make improvements more directly appreciated by its customers.

Are Pilots Too Dependent on Automation?

2013-01-31T09:07:00.000-06:00

Dealing with mechanical delays is one of the more unpleasant parts of my job. I am a people pleaser (I've been told that's a bad thing) and explaining the complicated nature of a broken-down jetliner to a plane load of people wanting or needing to arrive at their destination is often difficult and unpleasant. I know from experience as a passenger how frustrating it can be to sit in row 32 with a cockpit crew unwilling to make regular PA's, so I've always made a point to keep people informed...that isn't always good enough.

In the spirit of keeping the operation in motion, an aircraft used for commercial purposes is certified with a Minimum Equipment List...MEL for short. Without an MEL, every single item on an airplane would have to be in working order for the aircraft to fly. As you might imagine, even the simplest of airplanes are complex machines with countless moving parts. Sometimes those parts don't work exactly as they should and that may or may not be okay. Without an MEL, an airliner couldn't fly with a broken toilet seat, a coffee maker that wouldn't brew or a burned out reading light. These items must be repaired eventually, but if they are listed in the MEL, then repairs can be deferred to a later date to facilitate an on-time departure.

Clearly there are items that cannot be deferred. Engines, flight controls and safety items are required to be in working order and are not included in the MEL. But the auto pilot, flight director and auto throttles are among the items listed in the MEL for the aircraft I fly and are the reason for this post. The question is...are pilots too dependent on automation? If we are, what happens when the automation fails?

The first jet arrived at the gate with several mechanical issues. Two were minor discrepancies in the cabin that I expected to be remedied in short order, the third was more significant, but I still didn't think it would delay our departure. Then during the walk-around inspection, I found a fourth issue that had potential to ground the aircraft for at least a day. Unfortunately, we had already started to board passengers by this point and, in the Captain's absence, I elected to let boarding continue. Stopping the boarding process after it has already started is often more difficult than it sounds. I would regret that decision later.

A mechanic arrived shortly and I hoped he would be able to shed light on the "go, no-go" decision that needed to be made. But as we began to look deeper into the legal and safety aspects of the decision, it became clear that the Captain and I were not going to agree with the mechanic. Of course as pilots, we have the right to refuse an aircraft, but I would much rather come to a mutual agreement. There was some "grey area" involved, so our mechanic disappeared to confer with his superiors...that discussion would continue for well over an hour. With restless passengers and a frustrated cabin crew, I made PA announcements to the passengers in 15 minute intervals until the decision was finally made to take the aircraft out of service for repair. Everyone filed off the jet and waited in the lounge area until a new plan was announced.

The second jet arrived a few gates and a short walk away. I started walking toward the new gate just before the announcement was made and many of the passengers, assuming I knew something they didn't, followed me through the terminal. As I walked down the jetbridge onto the new jet, I could see a mechanic standing at the aircraft door. Not a good sign. The tower planner had assigned us a new jet that also had a mechanical issue. I really wish they wouldn't do that. Why on Earth they can't or won't check the status of an aircraft before assigning it to a flight is beyond me. The second jet was out of service. Thankfully, we knew this before we boarded the passengers.

We had to wait for jet number three. It landed about 20 minutes later and parked at a gate about as far from where we were as possible. The DFW airport is so big that it actually sits within the city limits of four suburban cities and we must have walked through at least two of them while traipsing through the terminal. I arrived at the gate just as the inbound passengers started to deplane and elected to swim upstream through the river of exiting masses. I wanted to check in with the crew to get a brief on the condition of the jet and get an early start on my pre-flight duties. The news was not good.

Once again, we had been assigned a jet with a known mechanical discrepancy. This was getting old...and embarrassing...but at least the passengers weren't on board yet and I wouldn't be responsible for PA announcements. I was running out of things to say.

Apparently the autopilot had failed on the inbound flight. A servo responsible for manipulating one of the ailerons was not working properly and would have to be replaced...a job that would take hours we didn't have. I quickly referenced the Minimum Equipment List and confirmed what I already knew. The jet could be dispatched without an autopilot. There were some restrictions involved with this and the flight crew had to accept the condition of the jet, but we were legal to go.

Normally, I will not accept a jet without an autopilot on long flights, flights into poor weather conditions, flights into challenging or mountainous areas or on flights when I'm already feeling fatigued. The automation provides a level of safety I'm not willing to do without in certain situations, but this time the flight we were about to embark on was less than two hours in length, the weather was good and, frankly, I couldn't imagine inconveniencing the passengers with another aircraft swap. So off we went.

I learned a technique from my father, a retired airline pilot, who taught me to be proficient with all levels of automation. He would fly the first leg of a trip completely by hand. From lift off to touchdown, he would leave all automation off for the entire flight. On the next leg, he would do just the opposite. He would turn the autopilot on at the lowest legal altitude on takeoff and allow the aircraft to land itself at the destination. On the third leg, he would use some combination of available automation...what ever he felt like using. I must admit I haven't exactly followed his advice to the letter, but I do hand-fly the airplane far more than my peers.

We departed runway 18L and joined an RNAV SID (Standard Instrument Departure) right after takeoff. The company encourages autopilot use for RNAV departures, but I typically hand fly them, so this was nothing new. We headed west into the sun, climbing at 250 knots until passing 10,000 feet then accelerating to 310 and transitioning to Mach .76. Climbing and descending without automation is relatively simple and doesn't take much more attention than normal. It's the tedious nature of straight and level flight and the attention to detail required for an instrument approach that presents a challenge for many pilots.

We leveled off at Flight Level 320 (32,000 feet) and...well...the next hour or so was tiresome for me and would probably put you to sleep if I tried to put it to words. The only excitement was almost constant movement of Flight Attendants and passengers in the cabin which required continual trimming of the flight controls. It isn't something I notice when the autopilot is engaged, but a single passenger moving from seat to bathroom is enough to put the airplane completely off balance, so with constant movement in the cabin, trimming the jet was a full time job.

It seems silly and melodramatic to say now, but flying the entire leg by hand was mentally and physically exhausting. I'm a perfectionist to the core, so 20 feet high or low just wasn't good enough. I only blew the altitude once as I searched for an approach plate...60 feet high just before the top of descent. I suppose that will have to be good enough. By the time we landed, my eyes were weary and I felt generally fatigued. We had one more leg to fly and I was pleased that it was the Captain's turn to fly.

The entire experience got me thinking about modern pilots and their reliance on automation. I couldn't help thinking about pilots in the 30's and 40's flying DC-3s around the country in all kinds of weather with no autopilot, no autothrottles, and no flight director. I'm tired just thinking about it.

The airplane I learned to fly in was equipped with a standard "six pack" instrument panel that was just barely legal for instrument flying. It had one COM radio, one NAV radio, an ADF and basic instruments like you see in the picture below. That was it...nothing fancy. I got my tail wheel sign-off in a Piper Cub with no electrical system, no radio and only the minimum instrumentation required for visual flight. I was taught to rely on on the basics.

"Six pack" instrument panel.

Conversely, I went flying recently in a beautiful A36 Bonanza owned by an old friend and college roommate. Not only was his airplane better equipped than any general aviation airplane I've ever flown, but it was far better equipped than the MD80 I fly commercially. As we prepared to start the engine, I was surprised that my friend didn't have any navigation charts handy. We were departing underneath the DFW Class B and I wanted to know exactly where we were in relation to this restrictive airspace. No need for maps, it was all depicted visually on his Garmin G1000. Frequencies, airport diagram and approach pages? No need for those either...it was all available on the Garmin, but I couldn't help wondering what was going to happen if all his expensive electronics stopped working.

Garmin G1000 instrument panel installed in a Beechcraft Bonanza.

There is great value in getting back to the basics. Even the airlines recognize that the continual reliance on automated systems is dulling the skills of their pilots. When I landed my first airline job, the simulator training I received almost never involved the autopilot. We hand flew every maneuver and only used the autopilot for straight and level flight. As the years have gone by, I have noticed a continual increase in the level of automation either suggested or required during my training events.

I clearly remember the first time I was allowed to utilize the autopilot for an approach during a training event. I was an EMB-120 (Brasilia) Captain and we were training in a full motion simulator that emulated reality so well, I usually forgot we weren't in the the real airplane within minutes. I couldn't believe they were allowing autopilot use during a training event, much less suggesting it. The autopilot did a great job of flying the airplane, but it didn't say much about my skills. I set it up, I pushed the buttons, I knew the legalities, and the airplane did a great job flying the approach...but could I have flown it if the autopilot had failed? I knew the answer, but my instructor did not.

Normal for me is to hand fly the airplane to an altitude close to cruise, use the autopilot for straight and level flight and part of the descent, then turn off the automation for the approach and landing. As a result, hand flying the simulator is not a big deal, but another issue forcing the increased use of automation by airline pilots is the growing number of RNAV arrivals and departures. Most airlines encourage autopilot use during RNAV departures and arrivals due to strict course requirements and tiny deviations allowed on such procedures. When my airline first started flying them, it was a requirement to use the autopilot on all RNAV procedures. That's exactly when I noticed my flying skills beginning to dull. I was constantly required to use the autopilot and wasn't getting enough practice with the basics.

As the RNAV procedures became more common and pilots became better and more comfortable with the flying them, my airline and others began to relax the strict requirement to use the autopilot. This has helped my flying skills a lot, but as a direct result of the Colgan Air 3407 and Air Fance 447, my last trip through recurrent training included a hand flown ILS to minimums with no autopilot, flight director or autothrottle and training in the recognition and flying of an aircraft with iced over pitot tubes and static ports. This was the first time in a very long time that I was actually required to hand fly an approach in the simulator. Even as comfortable as I am hand flying the airplane, I was surprised how nervous I was with the idea of hand flying the airplane all the way to minimums.

Personally, I think it's about time. Technology and automation in the cockpit is a significant factor in the continued decline in fatal aviation accidents around the world, but without basic skills to fall back on, pilots will be ill equipped in the event of a failure. It's time to get back to the basics.

New American Airlines Livery Taking Shape at the Paint Booth

2013-01-29T13:53:00.002-06:00

Nice set of photos released this week by American showing a "behind the scenes" look at how the airline's new livery is being applied to the first Boeing 777-300 operated by a U.S airline.

Do you really want to be an Airline Pilot?

2013-01-24T09:53:00.000-06:00

In 2010, 56,658 people received student pilot certificates in the United States, but only a small percentage will pursue a career in aviation. The number of qualified pilots available to fill what a report from the Boeing Company estimates to be around 69,000 new pilot positions in North America alone during the next ten years is dwindling. Rising training costs, declining pay and benefits, higher minimum requirements and a military in the U.S. that is increasingly keeping pilots longer are all factors in the shrinking pool of potential applicants.

I am regularly contacted by young people considering a career in aviation and I have, at times, struggled with whether I should discourage enthusiasm for what many consider to be a career on the decline. In the end, however, I cannot and have not turned people away from what I still consider to be a profession worthy of pride.

The last ten plus years have not been good to the US airline industry and its roughly 485,000 full time employees. There have been other notable downturns and slowdowns caused by events like the oil embargo of 1973 and President Ronald Reagan's mass firing of 11,345 air traffic controllers in 1981, but neither of those events was as harsh on the industry as the perfect storm experienced since 2001. The combined effects of the September 2001 terrorist attacks, SARS, age 65, high oil prices, a terrible economy and stiff competition from new low-cost airlines have resulted in a tumultuous ten year period.

Some airlines fared better than others...

Some carriers, like Dallas based Southwest Airlines, have fared better than others. At least from the outside looking in, Southwest has successfully fostered a friendly work environment for its employees that reaps benefits for its customers and keeps people coming back. There is enormous value to be found in a content and satisfied workforce that is difficult to quantify on a spreadsheet and, for that reason, routinely ignored by airline management, but Southwest's success is not solely based on their famous culture. In addition to keeping their people happy, the company made sound business decisions along the way. Southwest was almost clairvoyant in its aggressive approach to fuel hedging, a program designed to reduce exposure to volatile and potentially rising fuel costs. While many of its competitors were forced to sell hedges in order to remain solvent, Southwest increased its contracts and managed to hedge far more than its competitors, saving $3.5billion on its fuel bill between 1999 and 2008...far better than its competitors. For its efforts, 2012 marked the airline's 40th consecutive year of profitability.

Some airlines struggled, but recovered faster than others...

For the rest of the U.S. airline industry, the last ten years have been difficult, but improved results and black ink has come sooner for some than for others. Take Delta Air Lines for instance. Before the company declared bankruptcy in 2004, Delta pilots were among the highest paid in the world with some wide body Captain's reporting nearly $300,000 in yearly income. Post-bankruptcy hit the pilots hard with deep pay cuts and forfeited retirement funds; but under strong management, the airline has flourished. The 2008 merger with Northwest Airlines was one of the smoothest airline integrations in history and has served the company, its employees and its customers well. The pilots at Delta are once again at the top of the industry and the airline is still growing and eating up market share around the world.

Some airlines still haven't emerged...

Other airlines have not performed as well. Until its November 2011 bankruptcy filing, American Airlines had earned bragging rights for being the only legacy airline in the United States to avoid bankruptcy court. The pilots at American agreed to a concessionary contract in 2003 that was designed to keep the carrier out of bankruptcy by approving a 23% pay cut in addition to reduced benefits. After the pilots took their 23% pay cut, American Airlines management took a 23% pay raise and awarded themselves with multi-million dollar bonuses.

Before the 2003 contract, the pilots at American had already been lagging behind the industry with regard to pay and benefits, and the new contract gave American an enormous cost advantage over its rivals, but the contractual efficiencies were largely squandered by a lackluster management team. By the time competitors like Delta and United successfully renegotiated new employee contracts, American had not only lost its cost advantage but had also lost significant market share in a failed strategy aimed at "shrinking to profitability." Bankruptcy was inevitable.

10,000 furloughed pilots...

Before the industry downturn that began in 2001, American employed more than 13,000 pilots. Today the airline has around 8,000 active pilots and lists 1,650 as furloughed. At its worst, American and the rest of the US airline industry had close to 10,000 pilots on furlough and still hasn't brought them all back to work.

Statistics compliments of www.AirlinePilotCentral.com as of 1/2013.

Expectations...

When I was hired in 1999, I was told I would be a wide body international First Officer in two years and a Captain in eight. With a 30 year career ahead of me, I was told to expect a retirement account worth around $3 million with medical benefits to care for me when it was all over. Today, after almost 14 years as a pilot for a major airline, I am still a junior MD80 First Officer. My prospects for occupying the left seat are dismal, my retirement funds have been frozen or terminated and I will receive no medical benefits after I retire. I was displaced out of my home base for four years and spent most of the last ten years as a reserve pilot at the beck and call of crew schedule. Needless to say, it hasn't been the career I thought I was signing up for, but as bad as it has been, I would do it all over again in a heartbeat...and that is really the point I would like to make.

It is all too easy to lose sight of all the great things in life,

clouded by what could have been better.

I am thankful for a great job and I am thankful that someone is still willing to pay me very good money to fly airplanes for a living. I love the airplane I fly and only astronauts could claim to have a better office view. The feeling of a well flown approach or a smooth landing in difficult conditions is one that cannot be duplicated in another line of work. I enjoy the people with whom I work. I visit cities all over the country and will someday fly all over the world. I know a lot of people who work much harder than I do at jobs they don't necessarily enjoy for much less money.

Recently, I had an email conversation with a young man who wants very much to have a career as a professional pilot. Swayne was surrounded by aviation as a child and has developed a real passion for learning to fly and finding a way to make a career doing something he loves. As he began to research what it took to become a pilot, he discovered a number of online forums for pilots. I suspect he had high hopes of finding like-minded people who shared his love for aviation and were also willing and able to provide information about the journey that awaited him. Unfortunately, what he found was what he calls the "dark side" of aviation.

I believe there is value in understanding the good and bad aspects of a career choice, but what Swayne found was only the negative. One person told him to “run man.... run fast.... run away...” Another stated "You could end up multi-divorced, bankrupt with no retirement, and permanently disqualified from flying (medical, violation, training failures).” I know a few doctors and lawyers who might say the same about their career choices. Every line of work has its ups and downs, but as the old saying goes…choose a job you love and you'll never work a day in your life.

I have come to realize that my happiness with life in general is largely dependent on expectations...were they or were they not met. When I take my children out to dinner, I am very clear about my expectations regarding their behavior. I want them to sit quietly, eat their food politely and engage in meaningful conversation...the parents out there know that is often a tall order. If I make my expectations known, then at least everyone is on the same page. If my expectations are not met, then I may not be happy with the evening, but I am still happy and in love with my children.

Our careers are much the same. I had expectations for my career that were not met, at least not on the time line I anticipated. While I am not happy with this, I still love my job and have difficulty imagining myself doing anything else.

I am sad to say that it is not uncommon for me to come in contact with people who have forgotten that they have a job they once longed for and worked very hard to get. Maybe their expectations were not met, but it is far too easy to get caught up in all the negativity...and that's no way to live. Is the job as good as it used to be? Will it ever be as good as it once was? Maybe not, but I think my friend, author and fellow blogger Karlene Petitt put it best when she said "I guess it depends if you are flying for the end goal, or the journey." I am here for the journey and I think Swayne is too.

You can follow Swayne's progress toward a career in aviation on his blog,

"From Private to Professional Pilot"

Karlene Petitt, Seattle based A330 Pilot, Grandma, Author, Mentor, Motivator, Speaker and Artist.

Read her blog or purchase one of her books here:

"Flight To Success"

New American Airlines Livery -- To Paint or Not To Paint

2013-01-17T19:53:00.000-06:00

The wait ended with a countdown today on AA.com.

It's official...the iconic polished skin fuselage on American Airlines' jets will soon be a distant memory. AMR management has suggested for months that the "New American" would emerge from bankruptcy looking and feeling like a new airline, but officials with the airline have been tight lipped with regard to what exactly "new" might look like. The vote is still out on the carrier feeling new, but in the near future, a glance out the terminal window will reveal a significantly new look. “We have made a decision to embark on a modernization of our brand,” said Chief Commercial Officer Virasb Vahidi. Here's the result...love it or hate it, may the debate over polished vs. painted skin continue.

American was the last major airline in the United States to bare its aluminum as it ushers out a livery that was introduced in the late 1960's. The concept of polished aluminum skins was adopted even earlier in the airline's history and remained in place due to claimed cost benefits associated with the reduced weight of an unpainted aircraft. But if you happen to be flying around in a freshly painted Cessna 172, don't fret. You probably wouldn't notice any difference in the fuel bill of a painted versus a polished airplane. It's the economies of scale achieved in the operation of an airline where the potential benefits of polished aluminum skin come to light. Aircraft manufacturer Boeing estimates the added weight of the paint on a B777-200 to be roughly 475 lbs. There is an added fuel cost associated with carrying around all that extra weight, and for a company like American Airlines, operating 631 jet aircraft on more than 2,400 flights every day, the added cost is significant. However, Boeing points out that there are other factors like marketing, cost and environmental impact that must be taken into consideration when deciding whether to paint or polish a fleet of aircraft.

Marketing

"Because the colors, patterns, and symbols on the exterior of airplanes convey an image to the public, marketing considerations hold substantial weight in the decision. While some operators believe their image is best presented with a decorative paint scheme, others believe that a polished surface works best. Once established, markings become the most visible identifier of an operator at any airport, and they are often retained for many years." An airliner is like a flying billboard traveling around the world advertising for the airline. The added cost of painting that billboard is just part of the marketing budget.

Cost

Decorative painting is generally included in the base price of a new airplane, but full body paint, unusual markings and late revisions may cost more. So on the front end of the transaction, the old American Airlines livery resulted in a lower purchase price. But that isn't the end of the story. Cost estimates from Boeing indicate that an unpainted aircraft will actually cost more money to maintain over time due to the increased cost of washing, polishing and painting a polished fuselage through its service life.

Maintaining a painted fuselage typically involves repainting every four years, usually during scheduled C or D checks. Instead of completely repainting every time, the operator will alternate between stripping down to bare metal and starting over with completely new paint, versus scuff-sanding the existing paint to apply a fresh new layer. Both are procedures that require a significant investment in equipment, material and personnel.

Maintaining the appearance of a polished airplane requires re-polishing up to three times a year with a special compound applied with mechanical buffers, as well as regular washing to clean oxidation buildup from unpainted surfaces.

Boeing estimates the operating cost associated with maintaining a painted fuselage at $50,000 per year while the annual cost to maintain a polished fuselage is estimated at $132,000.

The Environment

The last part of the equation is the impact on the environment. With advances in biofuels, engine technology and aerodynamic design, the environment has become a line item on the spread sheet and a public relations concern. The choice between painting and polishing must be made after considering any laws that regulate toxic emissions. Painting has the potential to release volatile organic compounds (VOC) and known carcinogenic toxins such as chromium, present in both paint and primer, and cadmium, present only in primer. Since many areas of the world, particularly Europe and the United States, have laws forbidding the emission of these substances, facilities must be equipped with costly equipment and procedures designed to prevent or entrap such emissions.

Polishing an airplane does not involve the potential for chromium and cadmium emission, but it does require the use of solvents. Some solvents do not adversely affect the environment, but others contain ozone-depleting substances and VOCs that are illegal in many parts of the world. Most first-world countries have agreed to the Montreal Protocol that forbids the manufacture of all ozone-depleting substances.

Summary

Though the weight of paint adds to fuel consumption, the fuel-cost savings offered by polished surfaces are often outweighed by the cost of maintaining the polished surfaces. Many operators decide to paint or polish their airplanes based on marketing and environmental impact considerations alone, accepting any added cost as part of doing business. Some believe that a distinctive image can best be achieved with a full paint scheme, while others believe the image can be projected best by mostly polished surfaces. The decision is theirs to make and the benefit is small either way.

Here are a few last looks at current and past liveries of American Airlines.

Click the link below to see American's new Boeing 777-300 being painted.

New American Airlines Livery Taking Shape at the Paint Booth

Electric Airplanes and Flying Cars

2013-01-10T07:18:00.004-06:00

Over the years I've gotten to where I can almost guess the question a passenger is going to ask when they poke their head into the cockpit. Age, dress, sex and facial expression finding their way to the top of the list of indicators. But I got an odd question from an unlikely source recently who posed a question I had not heard...and I thought I had heard them all.

An elderly woman stepped through the cockpit door after being announced by the Flight Attendant who was dutifully guarding the door and greeting passengers. "Excuse me" the woman said speaking so softly that I almost didn't hear her. "I was wondering...how do the engines disengage from the wheels? Surely they don't keep spinning once they come up."

This was NOT a typical question from someone I would describe as a rural grandmother clad in twenty year old homemade clothing. No offense intended...she just didn't look like a person who would be interested in the mechanics of a commercial jet. Engines disengaged from the wheels? I smiled and almost laughed out loud.

Don't judge a book by its cover.

I politely explained that the wheels and the engines were not actually connected in any way...that the engines just provided thrust to push the airplane. "It's a little like putting your car in neutral and making your husband get out and push, " I told her. We had a short conversation and she asked a handful of other unexpectedly insightful questions before she smiled and left the cockpit seemingly content with my explanation.

The question got me thinking that maybe she was onto something. Maybe we could design a system...possibly an electric one...that would propel the aircraft from the gate to the runway where we would start the engines for takeoff. I picked up my fight plan and noticed that we were planning to burn around 450 pounds of fuel for taxi purposes on this one flight alone. With around 2400 flights every day, this one airline would burn more than one million pounds of fuel in a single day just to get jets to and from the runway.

Strange thought, I know, except that someone has already thought of it. I poked around online and found an article about a December 2011 test program that installed electric motors on the main landing gear assemblies of a Lufthansa Airbus A320. The brake assemblies of the inboard MLG wheels were replaced with drive units, each one containing a liquid-cooled electrical motor powered by the aircraft's APU. "Pilots reported that the demonstrator system not only handled well, but was more responsive than the main engines normally used for the task," said project manager Christian Mutz. Too bad grandma couldn't get credit for the idea.

Then I remembered another application of the concept. Those of you who attended Oshkosh last year (2012) may recognize the "roadable aircraft" manufactured and presented by PlaneDriven. The PD-2 utilizes a Glasair Sportsman amateur-built airplane and adds a 50-hp “drive unit” to the rear of the craft to provide ground power. To put the vehicle into drive mode, the pilot folds the wings, starts the drive unit, and away it goes. Sounds simple enough.

I was drawn in by the display and the odd looking little machine as I meandered my way through the endless sea of aircraft at this year's show. Three grown men were in the process of morphing the contraption from airplane to car and I couldn't resist watching the process. It was a little like rubber necking at an accident scene on the highway though...and I mean that the way it sounds. The procedure looked complicated and time consuming to say the least.

A fourth member of the team was standing around answering questions for a growing crowd of observers as I heard someone ask her how long it took to make the conversion from airplane to a legal and road worthy vehicle. "We'll," she said, "our goal is for one adult to complete the task in 15 minutes. We've been working very hard on this." Someone else asked how long it currently took..."We'll," she said, "right now it takes two men two hours." I lost interest at that point and moved on to another exhibit.

I'm so disappointed. I thought for sure there would be a flying car in every garage by now!

Only two more years until 2015...where are all the flying cars?!

Would You Get on a Plane Without a Pilot?

2013-01-01T10:54:00.000-06:00

Would you get on a plane without a pilot? That may seem like a ridiculous question, but plans are already in the works to make such a thing possible. The average leisure traveler utilizes internet search engines to locate the absolute lowest price on airfare and will chose one airline over another to save a single dollar. The cheapest ticket may include the inconvenience of multiple flights and lengthy layovers, but cheap is what people want and the airlines want your business. The question is...how far will you go to save a buck and what will you do if the cheapest ticket doesn't come with a pilot?

In the past 12 years, 22 airlines have filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection in the United States, 10 of which either ceased operations or were merged into other carriers. The main objective during any bankruptcy is to reduce costs and restructure a company into a money making machine, so it should be no surprise that removing pilot costs from the equation may be an attractive alternative. Most airlines report employee related expenses as the second highest cost after fuel, and since pilots are typically the highest paid workers on the property, their salaries are a big target.

Airlines internally publish a list of priorities by which it expects to operate. Each airline's list varies a little from the next, but safety is always on top followed by passenger comfort, schedule and finally operational economics...roughly in that order. I don't believe it could ever be argued that an airplane is safer without a pilot in the cockpit. I also don't think you could argue that passengers would be more comfortable or that an airline's on-time record would improve without pilots in the cockpit. So the real driving force for removing pilots from the equation has to come down to cost and whether it is cost effective to replace pilots with computers. I suspect there will be...if there isn't already...a formula similar to the one used by most product manufacturers that will consider cost reductions as a result of removing pilots while factoring in "acceptable losses" associated with potential accidents and ensuing lawsuits. It's a numbers game.

RyanAir CEO Michael O'Leary was quoted in a 2010 interview asking "Why does every plane have two pilots?" "Really, you only need one pilot. Let's take out the second pilot. Let the bloody computer fly it." And if the captain is incapacitated? Train one of the cabin crew members to land the plane, O'Leary said. "If the pilot has an emergency, he rings the bell, he calls her in." Of course, Mr. O'Leary might want to discuss this plan with the then CEO of Northwest Airlines who, during the company's 2005 bankruptcy described flight attendants like this..."I don't know why a settlement is taking so long, they are asking for too many demands considering they are a bunch of overpaid vending machines." Yikes!

James Albaugh, the president and CEO of Boeing Commercial Airlines, took the issue with pilots a step further claiming "A pilotless airliner is going to come; it's just a question of when." "You'll see it in freighters first, over water probably, landing very close to the shore."

In case you haven't been paying attention, the process of removing pilots from the cockpit has already started. In the early days of aviation, both military and commercial airplanes were dispatched with a cockpit crew that, at a minimum, consisted of a Captain, First Officer, Engineer and Navigator. And while the responsibilities carried out by these crew members are still vitally important, computers and automated systems have largely taken over the tasks. My first job at a major airline was that of a Flight Engineer on a Boeing 727. Even back in 1999, when I told people what I did for a living they assumed I had an office and a secretary at company headquarters. Who knew some airplanes actually had three pilots? Today, Flight Engineers are almost non-existent and even some of the old airplanes that used to require a Flight Engineer have been converted to two pilot airplanes.

Three man cockpit of a Boeing 727

Today, I occupy the cockpit of another relic of an aging airline industry. You can read a brief history of the MD80 series aircraft in one of my previous posts, but this old bird has its roots deeply planted in the early 1960's. Today's MD80 is a far cry from the original DC-9-10 on which it is based, but the jet is still a very old design by current airline standards. Even still, the Mad Dog, as it is commonly called, is equipped with a modern autopilot that can be programmed to fly from point A to point B, land and stop on the runway with very little input from the pilot. As the old joke goes...new airplanes will be equipped with a dog and a pilot. The pilot is there to feed the dog and the dog is there to bite the pilot if he touches anything. It's funny, but it's also a little too close to reality for this old airline pilot.

The MD80 hasn't quite gotten to the "dog in the cockpit" stage, and frankly even today's most modern aircraft are not as far ahead as you might think. The Flight Management System on most modern jets still needs to be loaded by a pilot...although admittedly, you don't need a pilots license to load the FMS. I am not familiar with any passenger aircraft that will takeoff automatically, but it wouldn't be that hard to design and program a system to accomplish this task as well. The landing gear does not come up or down on its own. Flaps and slats do not automatically extend or retract. I could go on. There are still many aspects of the operation that currently require human hands, but again, many of those tasks could be automated with ease.

The most significant obstacle to fully automated flight, and the reason I will never purchase a ticket on a plane without a pilot, is that automation is not and probably never will be fool proof. Last week, I was at the controls of an MD80 on a long flight to the west coast when a quiet click and flashing red light caught my attention. The auto throttles had disconnected for no apparent reason. I attempted to re-engage the automated system that controls power inputs to the engines, but the system would not operate. I suppose an airplane without pilots would have a backup, but backups fail too. For the next three hours, I had to make constant adjustments to engine power settings to ensure the aircraft maintained a safe speed that was fast enough to remain in the air, but not so fast that we used too much fuel and would not be able to reach our destination. The question begs to be answered...where would this flight have been without a pilot. Such a simple failure in such a simple system could have proved disastrous without my input.

Other emergency situations could be much worse. What if smoke began to fill the cabin? Is the smoke electrical in nature? Does it smell like burning hydraulic fluid or oil? Is it white? Black? All these questions are very important. There are multiple checklists to choose from and each is dependent on the type of smoke present. Oh by the way...on many passenger jets, the procedure for an electrical fire is going to take just about all automated systems out of the loop. Now what?

Another issue that most people do not consider is weather. Granted, ground controllers have access to accurate radar images, but as any pilot will tell you, there are lots of clouds out there that radar cannot see. Clouds that we absolutely will not fly through. Clouds that contain turbulence strong and dangerous enough to damage an airliner or injure a person who isn't seated and buckled in. I routinely ask for course deviations around weather and hear a response from Air Traffic Control that sounds something like this..."I'm not depicting anything on my radar. What are you deviating around?" The radar picture seen by ATC is a top down view of a storm that is often very different from what we see out our windows or on our own radar screens. Sometimes a storm doesn't have enough moisture to "paint" anything on the pilot's radar screen or the screen viewed by the controller. In cases like this, it is the invaluable judgement and experience of a real pilot that saves the day.

One last item I'd like to touch on is the issue of ground to air communication link failure. Pilotless aircraft are basically operated in one of two ways. Flight is either controlled autonomously by computers in the vehicle, or under the remote control of a navigator, or pilot on the ground or in another vehicle. I suspect any commercial product designed to carry human cargo will employ a combination of the two. In the worst-case scenario for a military application, if a drone is lost in battle, personnel can simply "crack another one out of the box" and have it up in the air shortly...and that's without the trauma of casualties or prisoners normally associated with an aircraft going down. I suppose that mindset won't fly for the airlines.

Recently, I was working a flight to Tucson, Arizona and had a pilot on the cockpit jumpseat who was an airline pilot out on military leave. We engaged in a conversation about his current duties and he explained that he was assigned to a military unit fighting daily in Afghanistan from the safety of a dark room in Tucson. He flies UAVs...Unmanned Aerial Vehicles. "Pilots fly them from trailers halfway around the world using joysticks and computer screens and go home to their wives and families at the end of the day." I asked him if the link between him and his drone is ever broken. "Oh, of course" he said. "It doesn't happen every day, but it's a problem." "Sometimes we lose contact with a drone and the darn thing just disappears. Sometimes we get them back. Sometimes we never see them again." This little piece of information leaves me wondering what would happen if the link was broken between a remote pilot and a passenger flight.

So again, I have to ask...would you get in a plane that didn't have a pilot?

A $100m program backed by the British government and involving seven European aerospace companies (AOS, BAE Systems, Cassidian, Cobham, QinetiQ, Rolls-Royce and Thales) is planning to launch a Jetstream 31 designed to test technologies and procedures that will allow commercial aircraft to operate safely and routinely without pilots. The tests are part of a long-term research project called Astraea – a name which stands for Autonomous Systems Technology Related Airborne Evaluation Assessment. The trials will include “the world’s first use of autonomous, vision-based weather-avoidance routing and the first UK surrogate flight of a fully functional visual sense-and-avoid system which includes collision avoidance tests using a second aircraft."

JetStream 31 test bed for the Astraea program.

It sounds like the future of pilotless planes is real. America’s aviation regulators have been asked by Congress to integrate unmanned aircraft into the skies by 2015. Will you be on board?

A Very Merry Christmas

2012-12-23T07:42:00.001-06:00

Originally posted in December 2010, this post starts out on a sour note, but ends well…so stick with me.

The year 2000 was a difficult year that culminated in the story I‘m about to tell. I had already missed my oldest daughter’s birthday and baptism, my anniversary, Easter, Thanksgiving and pretty much everything else of any importance along the way, so it came as no surprise that I held a line in December that worked on Christmas day. I was on reserve from December 21st through the 26th but was quite pleased to be assigned a three day trip on the 23rd that got off at 8:30am on Christmas day. I spent the night in Indianapolis, Indiana on Christmas Eve and was scheduled to work an early morning flight home on Christmas day. One leg home…what could possibly go wrong?

We got to the airport before sunrise and the Captain stopped at the gate to get our paperwork as I went down to the jet to warm things up and start my pre-flight duties. When I returned from my walk-around, the Captain was sitting in his seat with a somber look on his face. “Bad news” he said, “I checked your schedule and they've re-assigned you to fly to Long Beach tonight. You’re scheduled to fly home on the 26th. Your going to miss Christmas.”

I had completed my probationary year plus about three months at this point and was getting slightly less willing to be abused without a fight. “That’s fine" I told him, "but they’re going to have to catch me.” The airline can’t just add a new fight assignment to a pilot’s schedule without notifying him of the change, and since it had been the Captain who logged into the computer to check my schedule and not me, the they still had a contractual responsibility to notify me of the change…I certainly wasn't going to call them.

There are a number of ways for the company to notify me of such a change. First, after we were airborne on our way home, Crew Tracking could have sent us a message over the ACARS system. ACARS is a communication system that allows the company to send a message that prints out in the cockpit...think text messaging for airplanes. Our contract does not require me to respond to such a message while flying, but it would have given me a heads up that they were in fact trying to make contact. I basically stared at the ACARS printer most of the way home that morning, but we never received such a message.

The next and most common opportunity for contact is through the “changeover report.” About 30 minutes before we land at any destination, I send a message to the company through the ACARS system to notify them of our expected landing time. This information is passed on to ramp and gate personnel and also updates the computer screens that you see in the terminal. We receive a printed response that, among other things, includes information about crew connections. If I was expected to perform another flying assignment, then the changeover would include gate and departure information for my next flight. But instead of providing this information, the report clearly stated "No Crew Connect Info." "They must have gotten someone else," I said as I quietly folded the report and stuck it in my pocket.

The next opportunity for notification was the call to company ramp control. After we landed, I called the company ramp controller to inform him that we were on the ground and requested an entry spot to the ramp. If Crew Tracking was looking for me, the ramp controller would have instructed me to call them after we parked. I received no such message.

After we parked at the gate and the door opened, I looked out onto the jet bridge…no suit wearing management type with a clip board...the phone was not ringing…good. So with the “No Crew Connect Info” message in my shirt pocket, I turned to the Captain and told him I was going home. “Must have gotten someone else” I said for about the third time.

As I started to pack my bags, four stripes (that's the Captain) got out of his seat and went out onto the jet bridge. He didn’t say anything to me and I didn’t know where he was going. As I exited the jet with my bags in hand, he was standing there on the phone with what I would describe as a “ha, I got ya” look on his face. He held out the phone in such a manner that I knew the person on the other end could hear and said “I called Crew Tracking for you…” You What?! The voice in my head was screaming something I can’t repeat in this forum.

“They need you for the trip" he said. "...just forgot to notify you.” I wanted to kill him. I freely admit now, that if they had not been able to contact me, some other pilot would have had to fly the trip and would have missed Christmas with HIS family…either that or the flight would have been cancelled all together. Neither is palatable to me now, but I certainly wasn't thinking of such things at the time.

It’s all about me!!!

Before we left Indy 3 hours earlier, I placed a call to my wife and broke the news to her. She grew up with a father who was always home for the holidays and took the news hard. She is, however, a strong, supportive woman and a great wife and as a surprise, she got the kids out of bed and met me at the gate as I exited the jet. It was wonderful to see her, daughters in tow, even if it was only for 10-15 minutes. They brought me some food intended for our Christmas dinner, gave me a present to open and a few last hugs as I boarded the plane to Long Beach.

My oldest daughter was only 4 at the time and didn't understand that I wasn't going home with her. So as she began to realize what was really happening, she melted down right there in the boarding area with 136 passengers sitting around waiting to board. She began to scream and cry and begged me no to go. As I rounded the corner and walked onto the jet, the last thing I heard her say was “Daddy, please don’t go…if you won’t go, I promise to be a good girl!” Those words broke my heart and are still difficult to remember today. I’m pretty sure my wife had a few ugly thoughts for all those people who just HAD to fly on Christmas day, but thankfully she kept them to herself.

So that was my worst Christmas…here‘s my best.

This year, Christmas 2010, my relative seniority at the company is about the same, maybe a little worse, than it was in 2000. That’s a story for another day, but let’s just say that between 9/11, swine flu, bird flu, sky rocketing fuel prices, age 65 and the recession, that airline pilot’s in the U.S. haven’t done so well in the last 10 years.

I was on reserve beginning Christmas day and was scheduled to work through the 29th. I did my best to get a trip on Christmas day that signed in late enough to have some time with my family before I had to go to work, but was assigned a trip with a sign-in time of 5:50am. That meant I would have to leave the house at 4:50...ever so slightly too early for any quality family time. It wasn't a total loss as the trip was just a two leg turn...out and back in the same day. I would be home in time for dinner.

We spent Christmas Eve at my in-laws house and were all sitting around the fire trading stories at about 3 in the afternoon when my cell phone rang. I've been doing this long enough to know not to answer my phone if I don’t know who‘s calling. If they’re short on pilots and you’re stupid enough to pick up the phone, your it…day off or not, you're going to work. I didn't recognize the number on the caller ID, so I let it go to voice mail. My phone chirped a few minutes later informing me that some one had left a message, so I punch the button and listened to what the MD80 Fleet Training Manager had to say. “Hey Brad, can you holler at me on my mobile please, I’d like to displace you tomorrow.” I'm going to omit his name out of respect since he probably doesn't want to publicize his actions, but the guy is a management pilot in charge of all MD80 training and doesn't have to work on Christmas or any other holiday.

I jumped up with such a start that wife thought something was wrong. She later told me that her first thought, in reaction to the look on my face, was that someone had died! I hurried into the next room so I could respond to the call in private and my wife followed along. I gave her a thumbs up to calm her concerns, as my new best friend picked up on the other end. We only spoke for a few minutes, but he explained to me that his children were all grown and out of the house and that it was his pleasure to give me the day with my family. He thanked me for my service to the company, asked about past holidays and seemed pleased to learn that it had been so many years since I had had Christmas day off.

After giving it some thought, it occurs to me that I will still want to spend Christmas with my kids when they are grown and out of the house. It also occurs to me that this guy has been doing this same thing for years and probably hasn't had Christmas with his family in a very long time. I've heard rumors from time to time about this yearly Christmas gift. I’ve heard that he calls some junior guy who’s stuck flying on Christmas for the umpteenth year in a row and gives that pilot the day off with pay. I always wondered if the stories were urban legend and certainly never thought I would be the recipient of his good graces.

I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, but of all the people this affected, my 14 year old daughter was more touched than anyone. She had been telling me for weeks that I could keep the presents...all she wanted was for me to be home on Christmas. I didn't think there was any chance it would happen, and I definitely couldn't have foreseen the outcome of the day. This will be a Christmas that my family will never forget.

A Special Visit to the Cockpit

2012-12-12T11:50:00.000-06:00

Ten minutes with Chandler. Ten minutes I will never forget.

I was having another one of those days…I seem to be having a lot of them lately and frankly it’s getting old. Passing through Las Vegas on the last round trip of a three day sequence, we were running behind due to a de-icing debacle in preparation for our first flight and a subsequent mechanical issue on the second. It was the last leg of the day and it seemed Murphy’s Law was in full force. Admittedly, I was ready to be home, feeling cranky, and my little pity party seemed justified. Then Chandler walked into the cockpit.

Chandler appeared to be about five years old and was dressed like a western Sheriff, badge and all. He wore a huge black cowboy hat and an intricate belt buckle not much smaller around than his waist. On his feet were extravagant boots like you might see on a country western star. His khaki shirt was decked out with an authentic looking Sheriff’s badge and arm patch and a real pair of Flight Attendant wings. I recognized the wings as real, but learned later that the Sheriff’s badge and arm patch were real as well. He had been deputized by the local Sheriff earlier in the day.

Chandler was thin. As I lifted him into the Captain’s chair and slid him forward toward the control yoke, he seemed to weigh far less than he should. But his deep blue eyes, buzz cut blond hair and ear to ear smile masked why he was here receiving such special treatment. He was soft spoken and polite, but alive with excitement surrounded by the busyness of the cockpit. He was curious about everything. What’s this? What does that do? Why are there so many buttons? Most children are timid in the pilot’s seat, but Chandler was bravely interested in everything I had to share.

Chandler has a rare bone marrow disease and a brain malformation. Each day is a gift. The Parker County Sheriff's department in Texas found out about him and organized a bone marrow drive on his behalf. During this time they introduced him to Western Wishes, an organization that "strives to lift the spirits of children and young adults faced with adversity who live and love the western way of life." Earlier this year, Chandler was sent to Wyoming to spend time at the rodeo with the cast of 8 seconds. It was there that he became the ambassador for Western Wishes Texas and would eventually fly to Las Vegas for the National Finals Rodeo. That's how I came to share the cockpit with this spectacular young cowboy. Chandler is a true cowboy and draws on his cowboy strength to get through his treatments. "Cowboys are tough."

Chandler´s trip was sponsored by Western Wishes and he was accompanied by an American Airlines Flight Attendant who just happens to be his Godmother. I'm sure she was as honored to be a part of this trip as I was to have him in the cockpit. She was the one who had given him the first set of wings…probably her own. He definitely deserved more than a pair of plastic kiddie wings.

I looked at the Flight Attendant wings on Chandler’s shirt and decided he needed a set of pilot wings to match. Taking the wings off my uniform shirt and pinning them on his, I told him a story about my wings. They were important to me and I hoped they would be important to him as well.

“Chandler, when a pilot gets a job here, he goes out and flies with a teacher. The teacher sits right there in the seat you’re in and the new pilot sits in this one. They fly together for a few days and when the teacher thinks the new pilot is ready to go out and fly on his own, he takes a set of wings like these and pins them on the new pilot’s shirt. Just like this. These are the wings my teacher gave me. I've worn them for almost 14 years. They've been all over the place Chandler…to every city American Airlines flies to in Canada, Mexico and the United States.”

Chandler smiled even bigger than before and I suspect the wings will be as significant to him as they were to me. But that isn't the point. I didn't realize it until later, but he was the one giving me a gift. Actually, he gave me two. As he got off the jet back in Dallas, he stopped at the cockpit door to say good bye and handed me the picture and note I've posted below. I've received a lot of these over the years, but I’ll keep this one forever. The second gift was the realization that I've got it good. I’m happy and healthy and I have a great family and a wonderful job. I am thankful…and whatever insignificant trials I find myself navigating, clearly they are nothing compared to what this bright and cheerful young man is struggling through.

I am honored to have spent ten minutes with Chandler.

*If you are reading this post for the second time, you may have noticed some changes. I have included this little cowboy's real name and some detail about his condition after receiving permission to do so from his wonderful and supportive family.