Mountains of Luggage

Position: Abeam Sandspit (YZP)
Altitude: 36,000 feet
Destination: Anchorage
PAX onboard: 124 + 3 cabin crew + 2 pilots + 3 jumpers = 132 total souls



As usual for Anchorage (all the time), every seat is full; even the tiny pull down jumpseats reserved for crew. This is the height of tourist season in Alaska. Our baby Airbus (A319) is at the maximum safe altitude for its weight. Last week, cruise ship passengers were thick where a few months before, nothing except darkness, ice, snow, and the occasional hungry moose eating dead tree leaves. It is an amazing transformation that I have been lucky enough to witness several times. In fact, there are so many cruise ship passengers, that hotels must erect canvas ceilings over mountains of luggage unloaded from cruise ship trucks. Truly amazing...

Overhead, cold and dark blue skies. Below, a contrail pointing toward Alaska. We have been following this aircraft since SEA-TAC; our speeds are matched.

Two more hours and we will be there...

Warning

Expert: Anybody with a briefcase more than 50 miles away from home.

This caught my attention today, especially when I heard it was an A320 landing on a rain slickened, short runway, which is something I do on a regular basis. As a matter of fact, two runways I land on (routinely) are shorter than this accident runway in Brazil. It is easy to be an armchair expert discussing tragedies such as these, but when I heard about this fiery crash, I remembered a little statement printed on page 256 of the airline's A319/320 Pilot Manual:

WARNING

Do not attempt a go around once the aircraft is on the runway

and reverse thrust is initiated. Up to five seconds are required

for a reverser to close in the forward thrust position. Also, there

is a possibility that the reverser will not stow in the forward thrust

position during a go around attempt.

Uh oh...

Aluminum Skin

Position: 300 miles west of KDFW (Dallas-Ft. Worth)

Altitude: 38,000 feet
Destination: Sin City
Aircraft: A320; V2500 A-5 engines
Load: 150 pax/5 crew/4,200 lbs. freight and mail/255 bags
FOB: (fuel on board) 17, 560 lbs.


Flying the line continues... A couple of days ago, at LAX, I ran into a Captain buddy who asked me if I had heard about another friend losing his medical certificate because of heart problems. I had not... Yikes! Our mutual friend was a B-52 pilot in the USAF and had been an instructor pilot at another airline on my resume, and now, unbelievably, he has lost his medical certificate. Two weeks ago, he showed me photos of his third grandchild. What is going on here? This guy is a premier airline pilot at the very top of the aviation pyramid. He even wears a Crucifix on his tie... In today's PC world, that takes guts.

Shake it off, Captain... I am fixated on this subject; time to come back to reality at 38,000 feet. There are 150 folks in the back who want my head in the flightdeck. We are doing a DFW turn, then on to SoCal for the overnight. Tomorrow, back to Anchorage. As I say to the wife of my youth... Yeah, Baby!

A line of storms extends from Mexican airspace all the way to southern Nebraska. We are on the east side of that line looking at a small gap in the weather ahead. You can actually see sunlight reflecting off the aluminum skin of at least three airliners coming and going through that gap. In a few minutes, there will be one more, as we approach the break in the storm line. The flight attendants are in their seats until we pass through the gap.

We will be arriving Lost Wages when the sun is touching the horizon. The airline has allotted 42 minutes to load kerosene (Jet-A), grab paperwork, unload 150 pax/re-load 150 pax, and then blast off for SoCal.

We can do this...

Walking with a Purpose

Position: 60 North, again... But heading South
Altitude: 35,000 feet
Souls on Board: 132; completely full with 124 pax, 5 crew, 3 jumpseaters

The deal with crew scheduling is almost complete; I dodged lightning bolts going into Houston and, in return, they gave me an uncovered Anchorage trip. Sadly, that stay is over. Beautiful Anchorage is rapidly receding in our six. The weather conditions were perfect; temperature of 65 degrees and calm winds. The conditions were so good, that even the husbands from the cruise ships, usually walking around with a thousand yard stare five feet behind their wife and carrying three shopping bags, were smiling and walking with a purpose.

The good news: I'll be back in a few days on a previously scheduled trip.

Just a Little Houston Turn

Position: 25 miles north of El Paso
Altitude: 35,000 feet
Destination: KIAH (Houston)
Alternate: KDFW (Dallas-Ft. Worth)



Life was good this morning as I was off duty for one more day. My favorite work area is a dark alcove in the kitchen. I love to sit there in the mornings and sip strong coffee while I check the news sites on the Internet. My wife does not require that area to be in order... Thank you, Honey. On top of a small desk, surrounded by books, cameras, a short wave radio, and computer gear, is the "Bat Phone."



The secret line rings; I answer expecting one of my riding buddies...



Crew scheduling: Hi Dave, this is Mandy in crew scheduling. How are you this morning?

Me: Uh...Hi there Mandy. I'm OK, what's up? (I wonder how they got this number...)

CS: We have a little Houston turn and we need a Captain. Would you be interested?

Me: Well, I really can't Mandy. I've got other plans.

CS: I'll give you a 25% override.

Me: I'll have to pass on that, Mandy.

CS: OK, how about a 50% override?

Me: Better not. As you know, I've been flying a lot and my home front chores are falling behind.

CS: Well, OK... Hey, you know what... We've got an Anchorage trip that starts tomorrow and it needs a Captain. How about that trip and a 25% override if you'll fly for me today. It's just a little Houston turn.



She is very good at what she does; she knows that I am addicted to Anchorage, so she is using that as cheese in the trap. I am certain the Houston weather is horrendous today. That is probably why it is an uncovered trip. Thunderstorms today; Anchorage tomorrow. Decision time... It's not often that an Anchorage trip comes up without a Captain in the summer.



Me: OK, you got me. I'll do it for the Anchorage trip and a 25% override.

CS: Thank you so much, Dave. Can you be here as quickly as possible? The flight is scheduled to leave in half an hour.

Me: I can't make that, but I'll hurry.

CS: Again, thank you. I'll call the gate and tell them you are on the way.



Uh-oh, my wife will probably be a little bit unhappy about this... She likes my days off as much as I do.

Two hours later...

We are abeam El Paso, deviating north because of storms. The Houston weather is really bad with large storms in all quadrants. There are big delays and lots of holding getting into the area. The fuel load is landing weight restricted, i.e., we must be at or below maximum landing weight when we arrive in the Houston area. It is very frustrating not to be able to upload more fuel when the aircraft has the ability to carry it off the departure runway.

One hour later...

There is a line of storms ahead, solid red on the radar, between us and the arrival gate into Houston. ATC agrees to a 90 degree turn left of course to hunt for a hole. Right of course is not an option, as it is black, nasty, and electric. Left of course is only dark blue, nasty, and electric. I am reasonably sure we will find a soft spot, so I call the lead flight attendant and tell her to secure the cabin for landing ahead of time; then I remind her of turbulence protocol.

75 miles left of course...

The co-pilot and I feel good about a radar soft spot 45 degrees right of the nose cone. ATC clears us to cross the storm line in that area. A few minutes later, we are about to penetrate the line... The radar indicates light rain and turbulence. I am the flying pilot, so I slow down to turbulence penetration speed of .76 Mach, tighten my five point harness even more, and then give another PA to the 150 passengers to "Make sure your seat belts are securely fastened."

Downwind Leg; Runway 27

We are 3,000 feet above the ground with wing spoilers fully extended, dumping lift into the night. On our right and left are thunderstorms with tops at about 25,000 feet; not too big in Texas terms. There is a cloud canyon, about five miles wide, which the arrivals are going through before turning left base leg. The storm on the left is covering the airport, but no one is complaining; probably because DFW, also, is covered with storms... So much for the alternate. There is so much lightning activity that an ozone scent is permeating the atmosphere. Oh please, oh please... Just a little Houston turn in progress.

"Landing gear down, flaps three, landing checklist." The glideslope is intercepted 1,800 feet above the ground, about six miles from the end of the runway. We are in and out of the rain clouds, catching a glimpse of the approach lights between shafts of rain. The lightning is strobing the clouds with bright, white flashes. My right hand is on the thrust levers, left on the stick, both palms sweaty. The landing lights are large electric spears illuminating the rain drops rushing toward the nose.

"Flaps full."

The co-pilot calls out 500 feet above minimums, which is sort of an "OK, this is serious. No screwing around." The runway is in sight through the rain covered, heated Plexiglas, but it is like looking through a kaleidoscope. I reach over my head and turn on the Captain's wipers. The view clears to reveal a black, rain covered runway. A crosswind of about 15 mph from the south has Fi-Fi's nose cranked a few degrees left.

Fi-Fi's electronic voice calls out "200-100-50"

Thrust levers back to idle... "40-30-20"... A bit of right rudder/left stick...Nose up a few degrees... "10-5"

Main landing gear touches down on the wet asphalt. We are thirty minutes behind schedule which means we are supposed to take-off in ten minutes. That will not happen, but we can probably do it in twenty minutes... Just a little Houston turn.