Midnight Under the Star Dome

Position: Underneath Vega and Over Lincoln
Altitude: 35,000 feet
Groundspeed: 632 mph (550 kts)
Winds Aloft: From 240 degrees at 120 mph(104 kts)
PAX on board: 150
Fuel Flow: 5200 lbs/p/hr

Vega is burning overhead like a bright heavenly beacon reminding me what a tiny, insignificant aluminum entity we are as we pass far underneath this mighty star. Oh Lord, thank you for letting me be an airline pilot. I surely do not deserve it.

We are in an experienced A320 with the small engines, but she is a good aircraft and I have a lot of miles in her... We are kind of like old friends, if that is possible. Our altitude was reached after burning off several tons of kerosene at 31,000 feet; the co-pilot will coax her up to 37,000 feet before we start our descent into KBOS (Boston).

Seven miles beneath her baggage stuffed belly, Lincoln slides past at 10 miles per minute. My face is close to the left side Plexiglas as I strain to see the Lincoln airport's beacon. In the bad old days, I used to co-pilot 737-100 Steam Jets into Lincoln. During the spring and summer you could count on some of the biggest, meanest thunderstorms on the planet being in close vicinity of the airport. During the winter... Intense cold, low visibility, and blowing snow. I had some great Captains (capital C) in those days who taught me valuable lessons about dealing with storms that I still use today.

Now, Omaha is sliding under our nose. The coldest I have ever been on the Line was pre-flighting a Steamer in Chicago, the second coldest was pre-flighting in Omaha.

And then there was that time I was a newbie co-pilot descending into Omaha with one of the most feared captains on the Line, a.k.a. Captain Hatchet. He was the airline's co-pilot weeder during their first year of probation. He worked for the training department and looked for weak pilots before their year was over. It was easy for the airline to get rid of a co-pilot during that year of probation.

I remember it well... 200 overcast, half-mile visibility, snow flurries, and polar air. As we descended into the top of the snow storm our Plexiglas began to fog over on the inside of the cockpit. Captain Hatchet had forgotten to turn ON the heating elements before we departed. From the left seat, the cursing switch tripped. I tried to become as small as possible, but there was not much room in those old jets. In a few seconds, he started laughing as he realized the hilarity of going on instruments from the inside. The embedded Plexiglas heaters cleared the fog quickly... I flew with that captain many times over the following ten years and never had a problem.

I remember...

Back in the flight deck, the co-pilot is looking straight ahead into the black void, that midnight stare of lets see now, what time zone are we in and what time is it at home?. Soft green light from the cathode ray tubes illuminates our world. The slip stream is noisy in this old girl and it seems that night air is more so than sunlit air; probably just my imagination, though. About 1200 miles to KBOS, give or take a 100. We should be arriving twenty early with fifty minutes of Jet-A in the tanks. Not bad...

Life on the Line continues....

Positive Rate... Gear Up

photo by Arnaud Fourquemin

Position: KTPA (Tampa)

Groundspeed: 172 mph (150 kts)

PAX-on-board: 182

Freight: 4200 lbs.

Deck angle: 15 degrees and rising

Fuel Flow: Impressive

Airborne in a new Fi-Fi 321 and my Starbucks stayed in the coffee holder. Do not laugh; I have Starbucked my flight bag on numerous occasions. It takes weeks for the approach charts to dry out and years of revisions to get rid of all the coffee stains.

Life is truly good. This beautiful aircraft is climbing like a homesick angel... Good Lord! Eighteen degrees (18) is the maximum nose angle for a normal take-off, but she is trying to exceed that. A little forward pressure on the stick, please.

Mid-time (hours of operation) engines will maintain airspeed at eighteen degrees deck angle; high-time engines will not, usually requiring a decrease to about fifteen degrees. New engines (like these) laugh at eighteen degrees and blow through the selected climb speed with abandon, sometimes by thirty knots or more. Decrease thrust, you say? No way! You are climbing for altitude in case an engine fails. Raise the nose more? Uh, no... Well, ahem... If there are rich folks below who do not like the sound of Freedom, you can raise the nose to twenty-five degrees to trade that airspeed for altitude. Otherwise, you are limited to eighteen degrees.

The good news: thrust reduction altitude arrives quickly. Pull the thrust levers back to climb power/lower the nose at the same time, raise the flaps and slats, disarm the spoilers, call for a climb checklist and watch the airspeed wind up to 287 mph (250 kts). Yikes! It is already there. A little back pressure on the stick to maintain 287 mph speed limit until above Cessna country (10,000 ft). The vertical speed indicator goes to the top of the case making your smile go from ear to ear.

Feet wet over the Gulf and through 10,000 feet... Lower the nose and let the airspeed keep winding up. The Warp gate is ahead...

1,200 miles down the airway

We have a newbie flight attendant on board, just released to the Line. She calls the flight deck with a problem...

Me: Engine room... Go ahead.

F/A: Captain, this is Nicki in the back. Uh, we have a passenger whose seat back is broken and laying in the lap of the passenger behind her. I don't know what we are going to do because there are no empty seats to put her in and the passenger behind her.

Me: Hmmmm... Uh, how many employees we got riding back there?

F/A: Just a second...

F/A: About three or four.

Me: OK, any pilots in uniform?

F/A: No pilots, there are a couple of rampers and two flight attendants.

Me: OK, how about lets put the flight attendants in jumpseats and the passengers in their seats? We can do that, right?

F/A: Yes, but what about the broken seat back? It is blocking the exit of the passenger by the window.

Me: Oh yeah... OK, let me talk to one of the rampers. Put them on for a second...

F/A: OK...

Ramp: Yes sir...

Me: Hey, can you help me out a bit here with this seat back thing?

Ramp: Yes sir, be glad to help.

Me: OK, fix it however you can. Tape, belts, neck ties, shoe laces... I don't care, just get it up and locked in place so the passengers can exit in case of an evac. Can you do that?

Ramp: Yes sir, I'll take care of it.

Me: Thanks very much! Put the flight attendant back on, please...

F/A: He's going to fix it?

Me: Well, not really, but he is going to put the seat back up and do something to keep it there.

F/A: Is that legal?

Me: I'll worry about that. If anyone says anything to you about this, refer them to me. That is what I get paid for... OK?

F/A: OK, thank you captain.

Me: Roger, roger...

The co-pilot asks, "What was that about?" I reply, "A broken seat back and administrative crisis requiring a paper trail, I think. It's a long story."

"I've got 1,500 miles."

Ahead, the vast expanses of the Llano Estacado are coming into sight.

Life on the Line continues...

Opposite Direction Traffic

Airborne at 0702 local... KDCA

PAX onboard: 150

Equipment: A320 (V2500A-5 IAE engines)

As the old quip goes, I am stuck in the DCA loop and I can't get out.

Bidding one's monthly schedule is a lot like sticking pins in voodoo dolls, unless you are in the top ten percent of the seniority list, which I am not. You bid for and against different parameters, according to one's desires for the following month. The result is dependent on one's position in the pecking order; I am in the top third of that order. That is enough to, basically, get two-thirds of your monthly wish list. Not bad in the big picture, but it is the last third that worries me.

A personal goal of mine is to finish my aviation career without a single incident, accident, or violation. That is quite an achievement if it comes to fruition... Knock on wood. This does not include the carpet dance in the Chief Pilot's office... Been there, done that (twice). Remember, no matter what happens in the flight deck, the captain is responsible.

Keeping that in mind every time I bid, DCA goes in the "no thank you" folder because of the runway 19 approaches. Too many times I have had runway 19 approach clearances changed at the last moment leading to a "charlie foxtrot" in the flight deck. Even so, the scheduling gods laugh at me and hurl flaming KDCA spears at me. In the end, if I get KDCA, so be it. Suck it up and quit whining so much captain (little c).

This morning, we departed to the north requiring an immediate left bank over the Potomac River to stay clear of prohibited airspace, and when they say prohibited airspace here in DCA, they mean it. Landing gear locked UP in the wells with the nose eighteen degrees above the horizon, Fi-Fi is accelerating with the vertical speed needle buried... Like a spoiled horse bolting for the corrals, she is running for the nest. Go Baby, Go...

Underneath, Gen. Robert E. Lee's home with row upon row of white headstones painted orange by the morning sun. It is one of those Oh My God moments. I tell the co-pilot about it but he cannot see it from his side. Good Lord, look at that... And then it is gone as The Electric Jet punches the broken cloud layer and climbs into the blue above.

We level at 30,000 feet awaiting opposite direction traffic, twelve o'clock and 1,000 ft. above, before further climb clearance. Quick, grab the flight bag camera and power up. No time to get creative... Lock the focus on infinity. There it is coming on fast; probably over 1,000 kts closing speed... Camera body against the side Plexiglas pointing straight up and push the shutter release. Did I get it?

Yes! I laugh and show the co-pilot my newly captured image. It only works one time in a hundred attempts.

Fi-Fi settles into eight miles a minute at 34,000 feet. Four more hours and I am off for three days.

Life on the Line continues...