Position: In the hold (20 mile legs) at TABIR intersection (35 miles northwest of Tampa)
Fuel-on-board: 8,300 pounds
Alternate: None, but looking at KMCO (Orlando)
Altitude: 20,000 feet
Jax (Jacksonville) center said, "Cleared to HEVVN, expect holding." Of course... I knew it before we were airborne that this would happen, but did nothing about it except for adding 2,000 lbs. of
uh-oh fuel, which we burned navigating through two storm lines. I only have myself to blame. Lots of humidity and a Florida summer, what did I expect? Not a thunderstorm in sight except over the destination and, of course, over Orlando, the only viable alternate. It is almost funny...
My twenty-something co-pilot, the flying pilot, asks me about slowing down, which I think is a good idea. Might as well cut the fuel flow ASAP. The wind noise starts to lessen as Fi-Fi slows; we are still at 37,000 feet. HEVVN intersection is about 140 miles from Tampa. We can see the tops of a storm in the distance; it looks like it is over Tampa. The radar returns show a cell over the airport. Before we enter holding at HEVNN, we are cleared to TABIR with a descent to 20,000 feet. Somewhere in the recesses of my feeble mind, I remember something about 20,000 feet being the most fuel efficient altitude to hold at; I pull my flight ops manual out of my flight bag and turn to the section on holding... Nothing about 20,000 feet. I am sure it was there in the past... Might have been in the 737, though. Or maybe new
experts had it removed. Whatever, this is going to be interesting. As I suspected, maybe two turns in holding before bingo fuel...
"Tampa is not taking arrivals, advise when ready to copy holding instructions." Blood pressure rising while looking at the fuel-on-board.
"OK, go ahead."
"Cleared to hold at TABIR, 20 mile legs, maintain flight level two zero zero, EFC (expect further clearance) 2030 zee." Blood pressure still rising; EFC is way beyond fuel range.
I send an email to my dispatcher requesting Mother's best estimate of fuel burn from TABIR to Orlando and a weather guess for about 45 minutes in the future. The co-pilot is doing a fine job of conserving our precious kerosene approaching TABIR. I unfold a high altitude Jeppensen chart and, using a plastic ruler from my flight bag, measure the distance from Tampa to Orlando. Using that distance, a chewed up No.2 pencil, and an obsolete hand calculator, I come up with a 2,400 pound burn at our current weight at 15,000 feet. Let's make it 2,600 pounds.
The Electric Jet arrives at TABIR and, under the co-pilot's watchful eye, begins a right turn in the holding pattern at 20,000 feet. I tell ATC that we are in the hold, and then send an email to Mother advising the same. It is easy to see the weather over Tampa from this perch... Radar not needed. We do not have enough fuel to complete two turns in holding. The email alert light flashes before the mini-printer spits out a message from Mom...
Burn to MCO 2484. WX to follow.
We are part of a giant, vertical, turning cylinder of airliners. One thousand feet above us is a 757, apparently low on fuel... The captain is getting testy with the controller. This weather was not in the forecast. Oops! Finally, the 757 gives up and requests clearance to Orlando. We are turning inbound toward TABIR when the mad dog 88 directly underneath us requests clearance for Orlando. The email alert light flashes; Orlando weather coming up... Storms and marginal VFR conditions. Blood pressure holding steady. Another MD-88, 2,000 feet below us gives up and heads for Orlando. We cross TABIR for the second and last time, turning right on the outbound leg. An Electric Jet above us calls "bingo" and heads for Orlando. The aluminum herd is thinning out.
I pick up the cabin PA and prepare to make an announcement to the passengers about re-fueling in Orlando, when the controller clears us to Tampa, descend to 11,000 feet. The atmosphere in the cockpit changes from darkness to lightness in a micro-second. We might actually make it in to Tampa. The radar shows heavy rain over the airport... We can make one visual approach and take a look. This is what I excel at... Taking a look. All we need is a break in the rain shafts.
The co-pilot calls for, "Flaps one." I can see Macdill Air Force Base, underneath a beautiful rainbow, out my side window. Fi-Fi's hydraulics shove the leading edge slats out into the slipstream. "Flaps two." The trailing edge flaps start cranking out of the wing. We are slowing, about to turn base leg. I can see the runway behind us... It looks like wet glass in the afternoon light. The rain has abated momentarily. The tower clears us to land with gusty winds out of the northwest. "Gear down"; I reach across the center console and move the gear selector to the "down" position. We can hear and feel the gear doors opening... The co-pilot selects the auto-pilot to OFF on the base leg. The landing gear is forced out of the belly by hydraulic pressure and locks into position; three
green lights in the flight deck. Rolling onto final, the co-pilot calls for "flaps three". I can see the runway; it is raining ahead, but looks OK. "Flaps full, landing checklist" I call out the items on the landing checklist like a good little non-flying pilot. There is a heavy shaft of rain east of the control tower, but our runway still looks good. Lightning bolts flash east of the airport boundary.
We go feet dry 300 feet above the ground at target speed with a ten degree crab angle. I turn our wipers on low as we approach the touchdown zone. The main gear tires touchdown on the wet runway and as the struts compress, the wing spoilers extend fully. I glance at the fuel load; minimum required for a go-around to Orlando. Blood pressure going down as the engines come back to life in reverse thrust... Being thrown forward in the harness feels good.
We taxi toward the ramp with steaming brakes... Company operations informs us that the ramp is closed until the storm passes. No problem. The co-pilot starts the APU (auxiliary power unit), then we shut down both engines while we wait. Tonight, a short overnight before a big day of flying tomorrow, ending in Chicago.
Life on the Line continues...
