How Quickly Can You Be Here?

Silly me, what was I thinking. I have been flying every night… Last night, myself, the co-pilot, and three flight attendants, ferried an empty aircraft to Las Vegas to pick up a flight that had been grounded for a maintenance issue. Tonight, I am the way to Florida with a full passenger load. Our current position is 50 miles south of Jackson, Mississippi. Out the co-pilot’s window is the glow of New Orleans, very bright as a matter of fact. According to the media, the electricity would be out for six months. Guess they were wrong about that, too.

We are under the star dome; Orion the Hunter is overhead… a quarter moon is rising like an orange finger nail. The air mass is smooth at 37,000 feet with a 50 mph tailwind which gives us a groundspeed of 565 mph. We will be arriving Miami on schedule... at sunrise. I am wired for sound with caffeine. The first flight attendant fixed us a double bagger pot of coffee; that is one bag in the tray and one in the pot. Look out! Also, I was able to sleep this afternoon, before my on-call shift started, so I am in good shape. My co-pilot, a forty something female with three children, is fighting to stay awake. Part of the joy of flying the backside of the clock.

Today is the last day of my ten day indentured service to crew scheduling and I am glad of it. On call status is not as glamorous as a regular monthly schedule. The phone call from crew scheduling usually starts with, "How quickly can you be here?"

7 of 10

Three more days of on-call status, then I can remove the cell phone collar around my neck. I have been ready to go since 4:00 P.M. with bags lined up next to the back door, uniform laid out on bed, pocket items all in a row on dresser, and hat in pick-up truck.

Every hour or so, I am checking the sick call list and pilot no show list via the internet crew scheduling connection (sort of like coming to periscope depth for a look-see). On two occasions, tonight, a trip popped up on the radar and I told my wife that the cell phone would ring shortly. No call came. Amazing! It is slightly possible that I will get to sleep with my wife tonight...although, there is a bunch of aircraft leaving for the east coast in about two hours.

We shall see...

On the Airway

I should have known it would not last, getting paid to sleep with my lovely wife. Someone in crew scheduling must have read this blog. My on call shift began at 4:00 PM; the cell phone rang at 4:01 PM with a nice little three day trip flown underneath the stars. After a high dive into SOCAL (southern California), we flew an east by northeast course line for Lost Wages, then Washington D.C., arriving at sunrise.

My co-pilot is a brand new kid from Florida; I'm not sure he even shaves yet. A new pilot is a rare thing in today's catastrophic airline environment, for many airlines are laying pilots off by the hundreds, soon to be thousands. He is a lucky young man and he knows it.

Last night, (in the pilot's lounge/locker room) as I was getting my ducks in a row for this trip, we were watching the SOCAL news coverage of the A320 with the broken nose gear. We pilots were amazed at the silly and outlandish statements coming from the reporters. A novice passenger might believe they were going to witness a fireball on the runway. In fact, the aircraft in question was receiving news broadcasts and the passengers onboard were indeed affected by the dribble.

My airline had an identical event several years ago which yielded a very good training video. The problem, in plain language, is a hydraulic powered centering cam that fails, leaving the nosewheels whopper jawed (one of my wife's terms). The solution is to land the aircraft gently, allowing the nose tire and wheel to take the friction. In our case, the nose gear centering cam was repaired, wheel and tire replaced, nose gear assembly inspected, and aircraft flown back into service that night. The media coverage was almost non-existent. Today, panting reporters wordsmith an oily plume of Jet-A, body parts, and children's toys rising into the sky on a mushroom cloud.

Regardless, those boys, oops... I mean persons, did a good job and I hope their airline gives them some kudos.

On the Leash

It is day one of ten days on the crew scheduling leash. I have been ready to go since 4:00 P.M. with my uniform laid out and bags packed for five days (that is all they will hold). It is now 9:07 P.M. and with a bit of luck, I might get paid to sleep with my wife tonight. Knock on wood...

Time to Pay the Piper

The airline lifestyle has a lot of idiosyncrasies, one of which is scheduling. For instance, I usually know the next month's schedule 15 days prior. My seniority determines the days off and destinations. Typically, I bid for weekends off and seasonal cities, i.e., warm weather cities in the winter and cool weather destinations in the summer. Seniority determines everything when it comes to scheduling. I am 80% likely to get what I bid. That's very good... but, for some life events, not enough certainty.

There is a way to get certain days off for sure- 100%. No, not calling in sick. I am old school and would suffer from a guilty conscience if I was to lie about being sick. The solution to being assured of certain days off is - YIKES!- standby... reserve... on call. It's known by all of those terms. Crew scheduling will give a pilot requested days off for trade of freedom, i.e., the pilot will be on a leash, two hours from the flight deck with the possibility of going anywhere at anytime, and no whining or pleading allowed.

I traded ten days of my normal schedule asking four specific days free from duty. I used those four days to match up with scheduled days off to take my wife on a trip to California and Alaska. Sort of a mini vacation.

The ten days indentured service begins tomorrow. The little uh-oh light is flashing in the back of my brain... Mexico City, Cleveland, Chicago, Newark, and, of course, simulator duty; They all trip the switch to that light...

Time to pay the piper...

Back to Work

The wife of my youth and I took a few days off to do some traveling, specifically to California and Alaska. But, as usual, all good things come to an end. I have not been exposed to the news media for two weeks. It is not that I was surprised to see that two major airlines filed for bankruptcy, but I was certainly shocked. Just as forecast, the industry is undergoing fundamental changes. Wow!

Well, on a more pleasant subject... I was in close proximity to many float planes in Alaska. There is nothing sweeter than the sound of a Pratt & Whitney piston-powered DeHavilland Beaver. They are one of the primary forms of transportation up there. The pilots are skilled and very proficient. Impressive stuff!

After driving most of the day, we have checked into a motel in LAX. Must sleep...

Time Off

In spite of Hurricane Katrina and gasoline prices above $3.00 per gallon, I drove the wife of my youth to one of the most beautiful places on Earth; California's coast line. The cool atmosphere and sweet Pacific breezes made the 375 mile drive well worth the 10 gallons of gasoline our little 105 horsepower, four cylinder engine consumed. We spent the night in a Mom and Pop hotel, then continued to drive north along Highway 1, stopping every few miles to photograph the scenery.

Without a tight schedule to follow, we eventually meandered to San Francisco. The airline crew hotel had a room available, which was a big surprise (must be the holiday weekend). I saw one of our flight attendants waiting on the crew van and greeted her, but because of my unshaven face, shorts, polo shirt, and baseball cap, she did not have a clue.

So, I will be off the net for a few days...

Keep the greasy side down!

New Orleans

Holy Moly! The power of the atmosphere is phenomenal! The New Orleans airport (KMSY), which I routinely fly into, is currently underwater. The station personnel, which I know well, are... well, I do not know how they are doing. They have probably lost everything they own.

Perspective is everything... .