Flying the Terminator

Position: Over Montague Island

Altitude: 28,400 feet and climbing

Mach Number: Point seven two

Equipment: A320

Pax-on-Board: 150 plus two jumpers

Airborne...

No, Arnold is not in First Class. The terminator, in this case, is the ethereal dividing line between night and day. We are leaving PANC (Anchorage) behind at seven nautical miles p/min and climbing at a steady 1,400 feet p/min. The mighty International Aero A-5 engines are sucking fuel at a prodigious rate. On my side, thru the heated Plexiglas... Light; on the co-pilot's side... Dark.

It is, in my judgment, a Divine sight. Job was asked by the Lord if he knew the ordinances of the heavens... Well, there it is in our twelve o'clock... The Ordinances of the Heavens. I wish Job could have seen this sight. It is an incredible thing for human eyes.

Life is sweet this morning soaring over Montague Island. The co-pilot is at the top of my list of favorites, a female of extraordinary ability and intelligence, with whom I fly often. Behind the locked flight deck door, sitting over the wing center-section, is the lovely wife-of-my-youth, another woman of extraordinary ability and intelligence, who managed to snag the last seat out of Pandora. She is good at that...

Fuel range...

Aircraft routing has been able to send the A320 to PANC for the last few days because of light winds and better than normal weather. Usually, the 320 does not have enough fuel range to make Anchorage with an alternate airport requirement, which is most of the time. For this reason, the A319 is the work horse on the ANC route.

I love seeing the A320 sitting at the Anchorage gate... An extra 27 seats to lift more revenue and (possibly) get a few (small) non-revs onboard. Ergo, wife in back. Yes, we were lucky tonight that a 150 seater was waiting at the gate, otherwise she would have been in the terminal waving good-bye as we pushed...

Altitude capture...

Fi-Fi's number two auto-pilot switches to the capture mode 400 feet below the selected altitude of 35,000 feet. The co-pilot is watching as the symphony of airborne computers sends the altitude hold electron stream to the Flight Directors. The Electric Jet gently levels at 35,000 feet engaging the soft cruise mode. She will hold the selected altitude, plus or minus 50 feet.

Roll back...

The V2500-A-5 engines roll back to cruise power with a corresponding fall in fuel flow, N1, N2, and exhaust gas temperatures. OK, all we have to do now is nurse the fuel-in-tanks. We can do that; the co-pilot is one of the most fuel efficient pilots at the airline. She constantly under burns the flight plan.

No crew meals, please...

The lead flight attendant calls the flight deck and asks if she should heat our crew meals. I look at the co-pilot... A head shake and a grimace. I feel the same way... Our internal body clocks are not in the eating mode. I ask her to give the food to the two uniformed soldiers (large young men/flat top hair cuts/high and tight) in First Class. The gate agents managed to seat them close to the flight deck door, per my request. These guys can be a huge asset in an emergency situation. Yes, I know... Mild paranoia.

Undercast...

Nothing but undercast as far as the eye can see. The westerlies are mild at 45 knots; almost calm for these latitudes. The windscreen center post is exactly in the center of the terminator. Is there a profound meaning to this? Something to think about as the center-tanks slowly fill with air... Wing and tip tanks still full of Jet-A.

Life on the Line continues...

Twilight Meditations

Position: SAE (Searle VOR; Ogallala, Ne.)
Altitude: 32,000 feet
Groundspeed: 415 knots (477 mph)

Compass Heading: 278 degrees

Equipment: A321 Enhanced
Pax-on-Board: 183 + 5 jumpers

Airborne... Day number three of four.

I am in the 321 groove again. I flew months without even sniffing a 321, and now almost every leg... Not complaining for I love this aircraft. Anyway, the methods and mysteries of aircraft routing is not for the great unwashed of the Line to understand.

We have been paralleling a line of Level Six thunderstorms for hundreds of miles and it appears to stretch all the way to the Rockies. The 321's multi-scan digital radar shows a clear depiction of those gigantic atmospheric water pumps to our left; to our right, another area of Level Six storms in a circular cluster about 200 miles in diameter. In between is a hole about 75 miles across; that is where we are, over SAE, along with many other airliners. The blow-off from the storm tops to our left has filled the gap with IMC (instrument meteorological conditions). We cannot see a thing outside except a gray nullity; no shape or form.

Light turbulence here... I asked the flight attendants to be careful with the carts, then flipped the seat belts sign switch to ON. The 321 is almost fun to ride through turbulence, as it has so much flex in the fuselage. The flight deck gently whips and twists on the forward end of the pressurized tube. The effect is mildly hypnotic...

My co-pilot is a thirty something guy that captains either love or hate... About half of my buds do not care for this guy, but I have no complaints. I have flown with him numerous times over the eight years he has been on the Line and I do not see the problem. He is high strung and very intelligent, one of the best aviators on the Line. There in might lie the problem... Not hard for such a co-pilot to make the captain's flying look ham-fisted. When I have a co-pilot like this, I give them all the flying; keep them busy and everyone is happy. That also allows me to pay more attention to the new enhanced Fi-Fi and her cutting-edge smoke and mirrors.

Other things...

I have received about forty plus email requests concerning Sully's new gig and his comments on AF447. I have not seen that report, nor am I interested in it. Whatever Sully says is OK with me; I would never disagree with him in public, or private. As far as I am concerned, he now walks with the Great Ones. He is, in my view, an aviation God. And he made the transition in two minutes and twenty seconds... What a staggering feat of airmanship!

Unbelievably, (well, maybe not...) I have heard quite a few Line pilots criticize Sully's actions because of listening to various expert's reports that he could have done this or that differently, etc. What a joke! Everyone of these talking heads would have been peeing their pants and crying for momma when both engines rolled back to idle thrust followed by the indicated airspeed trend arrow pointing at the bottom of the instrument case. Sully did not even raise his voice...

Free opinions...

Once again, here is my opinion on the question of multi-layered flight control systems controlled by a network of computers and managed by pilots. I think they are great! Better than great, actually... The Electric Jet can fly in the busiest and most complex airspace in the world, yet I could take any private pilot and have him/her flying this baby in about twenty minutes. Turn the magic OFF and it flies like any other aircraft, probably better than most. Stick, rudder, power... A wonderful flying machine.

Understand that is not what we Line pilots are trained or paid to do... We utilize every last transistor and circuit board in the Star Trek bay. The airlines that pay for these high dollar aircraft demand it. There is no time to fly for fun in the simulator; no flying under bridges or through the St. Louis arch like we used to do in the 737 sims. Every minute is required to train for the New World Order of airline flying; exotic instrument approaches, new airspace rules and regs, multi-layered system failures, flight computer failures, and on and on the task list goes mandated by multiple government agencies.

Is there a fatal flaw in the Airbus Industries product design? I seriously doubt it. I believe I would have seen it by now. I am not a suave French test pilot by any means, (not even close) but I am a high-time Electric Jet pilot having flown these exotic aircraft in heavy weather on a regular basis.

The guillotine of the Enlightened Ones...

Heads will roll over AF447 and the pilots are always prime targets for head chopping. The two young co-pilots flying through the nightmare scenario will be made to look like complete idiots by a media machine that understands not one tiny, itty-bitty, molecular-sized iota of the FACs, ELACs, SECs; the Captain will be an indecisive nincompoop. I've seen it many, many times. If the pilots cannot be whacked, the manufacturer is next in line... Whatever, however, for sure heads will roll. The concept of a bad accident every zillion air miles just doesn't, uh, fly anymore.

Navy pilots in our ten o'clock high...

Two Atlanta boys, maybe girls, in our ten o'clock high on the same compass heading. We cannot actually see them, but the fish finder (TCAS) shows them. Our mach number is exactly the same because relative position has not changed for awhile.

I look over at the co-pilot and ask him if he wants some fake coffee from the forward replicator. He points at his hours old Starbucks and says he would rather drink it cold. On the overhead panel, I push the lead flight attendant call button one time...

"Yeah, this is Cindy..."

"Cap'n Dave in the engine room... Would you make me a fresh pot of coffee, please?"

"I can do that darlin'... Call you back in a few..."

"Thanks..."

Are we there yet? No, not even close...

Life on the Line continues...