Mother is Watching...

Position: Over Colorado Springs

Altitude: 35,000 feet

Groundspeed: 645 mph (561 knots)

PAX: 150 plus 3 jump seaters

Destination: KORD (Chicago)

Airborne... Our A320 is riding a fast moving wind stream northeast bound at more than ten statute miles per minute. The wind velocity is more than 150 knots, or 173 mph. You got to love these winter winds. Tomorrow, though, we will be singing the blues.

We pushed back from the gate on time, leaving at least twenty non-revs behind. Bummer! I have seen the wife-of-my-youth, many times, waving good-bye to me when she could not get a seat on one of my flights.

As we pass 18,000 feet in the climb, the co-pilot and I reset three altimeters to 29.92 inches, turn the seat belt signs OFF, and talk to the pax. At 25,000 feet, the email alert light begins to flash.

I talked to my dispatcher before we took off, via I-Phone, so, probably, it can only be one entity: Mother.

Yikes! Does she know about the sports section I surreptitiously stuffed in my flight bag? Did I have a guilty look on my face when I checked in for this trip, like I was hiding something? Probably she does not know... Not yet, anyway. The day is coming, though.

After pushing the email button, the message comes up on the miniature LCD in the center panel. Mother says we are flying too fast; slow down, now. She knows what her aircraft are doing, worldwide. It is scary... Arriving too early at the destination, tonight, is going to cause some problem downline, plus she wants lower fuel flows. Included in the message is a new cost index that she wants entered into our navigation computers. It is part of her master plan for this evening, as in the Big Picture that we do not see in our high altitude office.

Like Pavlov's dog, I enter the new figure into Fi-Fi's nav computers. The Electric Jet begins to slow as the fuel flow is reduced, slowly, to our International Aero V2500 engines. Without telling him to do so, the co-pilot automatically tells our ATC controller that we are slowing per "company request."

"Roger. No problem... Speed your discretion."

Fi-Fi considers the groundspeed, winds, top of descent, and distance remaining to arrive at the most cost efficient cruise at a slower Mach number. It is a very interesting process to watch. Finally, she settles on a Mach .71 cruise with significantly reduced fuel flow and groundspeed of 561 knots, or 645 mph.

As interesting as it is, it is painful to watch... Sort of like pushing my Japanese two wheeled street fighter to Starbucks. Some of my compadres tell me that they ignore Company requests to slow down. In my humble opinion, that is not a good idea. Mother is watching....

Life on the Line continues... Slowly.

Automation? What automation?

Position: Starbuck's Outdoor Patio

Time: Sunrise

Once again, defying common sense, I rode my litre bike, a.k.a., the Japanese Death Missile, to Starbucks on the first morning of my precious days off. With my cherry red felony machine on it's side stand, I started perusing the morning paper over my steaming hot grande coffee.

Uh-oh, there is something about Captain Sully and a book author having a disagreement. The author says automation helped Sully land in the Hudson (immediately, I thought bravo sierra), but Sully disagrees and so stated as much. Good for him...

Sully does not need my help, but I am going to get my two cents in here. I have never met nor seen (C)aptain Sullenberger and have no inside knowledge of him or his crew.

I want to re-state my original take on this incident and that is this:

Captain Sully did what very few pilots could have pulled off successfully. I have read and/or heard many opine that most airline pilots could have done this water ditching. I doubt that very much. His decision, made in the heat of an emergency, to go for the river instead of Teterboro's runway was miraculous. His airmanship skills allowed him to keep a heavy airliner under control with no thrust, very little kinetic energy, and make a survivable landing on water with two minutes and twenty-three seconds to plan it. Amazing stuff!! All pilots fantasize about doing something like Sully did, but few, including myself, could actually do it.

Automation? What automation? He had fly-by-wire controls, a modern version of fly-by-cable.

This post was done on the, uh... Fly. It might be a little bit crude...

Life Off the Line continues for three more days... Yeah!!

Linear Perspective

Position: Eight Miles above the Center of the Empire
Groundspeed: 667 mph (580 kts)
PAX on board: 79
Equipment: A320
Compass Heading: 080 degrees

Airborne...

Back in the flight deck after fifteen days family leave for an emergency surgery (not me), a wedding, and work (as in manual labor!) related issues. I actually rode a horse for a few hours working cattle and it was comical. You could read the horse's mind... Who is this dummy that wants me to herd that cow? Looking straight up from the saddle was a major Jet Airway that I fly all the time. A small aluminum cross with swept wings, twinkling in the sun, was eastbound. That put my day in linear perspective.

Arriving at the airport early for this trip, I was relieved to find zero messages from the Chief Pilot and only light paperwork in my mail slot. I saw some of my partners-in-crime and traded lies and braggadocios bravo sierra with them. No new deaths, divorces, or girlfriends in my circle of middle-aged, grumpy captains.

One of them did, however, point out new administrative threats in the Read File. Some things never change... Almost every check-in, you can bank on a new threat or warning from some company department or government agency. Do I really have to be told not to fall asleep in the cockpit and miss the destination? Did I not know that partying with the flight attendants five hours before departure is not recommended?

In the perfect world I would find a nice little note from the CEO of the airline:

Dear Captain Dave,

Thank you for umpteen thousand hours of incident and dent free flying. To show our appreciation I am enclosing this bonus check. I suggest that you use it for the down payment on that new Corvette. The wife of your youth said it would be OK. May the wind always be on your tail.

Daddy Warbucks

Yikes! There I go... Fantasizing again. On the other side of inch thick, heated Plexiglas is total darkness and deep cold. The winds are from the northwest at 165 mph. A few minutes ago, we were in the light of the setting sun; now we are under the canopy of the night sky. This is my perfect world, even without a bonus check from the CEO. Fi-Fi is happy at 39,000 feet with plenty of wiggle room for unexpected turbulence. The evil green eye (radar) is sweeping ahead for thunderstorms that are mostly widely scattered. My dispatcher suggested this route for weather avoidance and she was absolutely correct. In a minute I will send her an email telling her so, as if she does not already know.

My co-pilot is another young kid who was forced into The Electric Jet because of seniority issues, but he does not seem to be unhappy about the move. I have never seen or heard of him before tonight. I let him fly the first leg into San Diego which is difficult for most new Fi-Fi pilots because of the architecture of the approach. Even so, he flew the localizer 27 approach with precision and made a good landing. He has been in the right seat for (only) 90 days.

Anyone can get lucky, so I had him fly the second leg to Lost Wages. Again, very good performance. Unbelievable! It took me a year before I could do the same thing in this electrical entity. I would say he has an elevated IQ and a lifetime of exposure to video games. Thank goodness he is not cocky, as that would be insufferable... Someone who can back their mouth up with their ability. Anyway, I like this kid and will give him Captain Dave's stamp of approval.

Fi-Fi has her nose cranked into the crossing tailwind about ten degrees to maintain ground track. She is in the soft cruise mode, i.e., the altitude hold function of the auto-pilot will allow her to drift up and down a few feet to give the pax a better ride, or so the theory goes. Watching the altimeter is about all we can do... The newspaper police left a threatening note in the read file... Again.

Life on the Line continues...