harrisonjones

Now that SHADOW FLIGHT is nearing the release date, I wanted my blog readers to be the first to preview a bit of the book. The following excerpt introduces a few characters and the scene sets up one of the sub-plots of the book. I hope you enjoy a sample of the 300 page novel.

SHADOW FLIGHT

Soaring seagulls, and the little red and white Cessna, were the only things moving in the blue skies of south Texas. The seagulls were not likely to crash. The airplane, like the birds, seemed to change direction every few minutes to loiter in the same area. A casual observer would have concluded that the pilot was lost or searching for something yet unfound.

          When the aircraft’s engine increased to full power and the nose pitched up, it appeared to be on its way to whatever destination had been originally planned. The airplane’s propeller labored at maximum RPM, but the forward progress continued to decrease as the nose went higher. The Cessna seemed to be suspended in mid-air, like an apple above Newton’s head, as the speed became dangerously slow and the wings struggled to maintain lift.

          Suddenly the airplane rolled sharply to the left and the nose fell forward to begin an uncontrolled dive at the earth. The pilot had obviously demanded more from the machine than it was capable of producing and the lack of judgment would now be rewarded by the inevitable and unforgiving law of gravity. The two people sitting side by side in the Cessna were now less than two thousand feet and precious moments from certain disaster. The woman in the left seat fought the controls as the windshield view filled with spinning Texas landscape. She hung in her shoulder harness and felt the sickening sensation of weightlessness as the airplane plummeted. Her adrenalin charged brain issued commands that her insubordinate hands and feet ignored.

          She refused to give up. She was a pilot and would not allow herself to become a passenger, although she found herself repeating things that had already failed. At last she heard the calm voice of the man in the right seat say, “I’ve got it,” and she put her hands up in front of her as she had been trained.

          Kyle Bennett pushed the right rudder pedal and then re-centered it when the spinning landscape in the windshield became a stationary cornfield. He released the back pressure on the yoke and as the airspeed rapidly increased in the dive, he gently pulled the nose up and planted it on the horizon where the blue sky merged with Texas. He pulled the throttle back to a cruise RPM, rolled in a little pitch trim, and said, “You’ve got it.”

          Brooke Roberts took a deep breath and put her hands and feet back on the controls. She looked at the instruments and decided that airspeed was better than money in the bank.

          “Don’t worry, Brooke,” Kyle said, “Departure stalls are tricky because of the extreme nose high attitude, but you’ll get used to it. If one wing stalls before the other, the spin can develop and you have to be aggressive with rudder to stop that. I think you could have recovered on your own if you had released the back pressure on the yoke to break the stall.”

          “I know. I was just trying to stop the descent.”

          “The survival instinct is to pull, but you have to get the airflow back over the wings first. The good news is you now know how high you can pull the nose up on takeoff without stalling. We’ll practice the recovery more on the next lesson and you’ll be fine. Take me to the airport and we’ll get in a couple of landings before we quit.”

          “Kyle, you just wanted to see if I would squeal like a girl and I almost did. Can we do one more of those before we go back?”

          “You’re not gonna barf are you?”

          She laughed, “I think you’re safe, Kyle.”

          “Okay, let’s climb back up to 2500 feet and we’ll set it up again. Turn back to the north so we’ll stay in the practice area.”

          Kyle relaxed and tried to stretch his legs. The cockpit of the two seat trainer was much more suited to his petite student. Brooke sat almost a foot forward to insure that she could fully depress the rudder pedals. His aviator sunglasses blocked the glare of the sun as he watched her begin the climbing turn and he was pleased that she had not been intimidated by the previous maneuver.

          He knew that self confidence was a necessary trait in all good pilots, but confidence born of simple bravado had been a deadly factor in the final flight of too many pilots.  Brooke’s poise was not due to ego, but rather from understanding theory and the ability to apply her knowledge—the basis for good judgment and longevity. He watched as her eyes took in the instrument panel, digesting information and applying corrections. Her dark pony tail bounced as she scanned left and right to check the horizon and look for traffic.

          Brooke leveled the airplane and Kyle briefed the maneuver once again. She pushed the throttle up to maximum power and simulated the takeoff by raising the nose slowly until the angle became so extreme that air could no longer flow over the wings. This time she was ready for the stall and made a smooth recovery without  help.

          Kyle congratulated her, “I knew you could do it, Brooke. Now do you think you can find the airport so we can do some pattern work?”

          “If I do will you let me solo?”

          He smiled, “Maybe someday, after I’ve bled your bank account dry.”

          “Kyle, you know you would do this for nothing just because you love it so much.”

          “Well, don’t tell my boss because I’m working for almost nothing already.”

          “Someday you’ll be a rich airline pilot and then you can buy the flying school.”

          The conversation was a bit of a distraction and the airplane began to climb slightly.

          “Watch your altitude, Brooke.”

          “Sorry ’bout that.”

          “Use the vertical speed indicator more in your instrument scan. It will always show  an up or down trend before the altimeter even moves.”

          “Okay, thanks, Kyle.”

          “I won’t get rich anytime soon. I just got another rejection letter from Tri Con Airlines. I can’t even get an  interview.”

          “Don’t give up Kyle—at the ripe old age of twenty-six, you’ve got time.”

          Brooke was not familiar with the requirements to become an airline pilot, but if appearance counted, Kyle would qualify. He kept his dark hair trimmed short and his blue eyes could compete with the Texas sky on a clear day. He was the clean cut young bachelor that every mother hoped her daughter would marry—airline pilot or not.

          The flying school was based at a small airport located west of Corpus Christi in the less crowded airspace of a rural community. The airport was called McLane Field and named for the owner rather than a town. They descended over the plowed fields of Texas farmland and approached the single asphalt strip from the south. Kyle purposely kept his mouth shut and evaluated Brooke’s entry to the traffic pattern without instruction. The airport didn’t have a control tower, but she announced her intentions on the common Unicom frequency to let  any other airplanes in the area know she was in the pattern for Runway One-Five.

          “McLane Unicom, Cessna November Six-Eight-Three-Four Bravo, entering right downwind for landing, Runway One-Five.”

          She and Kyle both scanned the area but saw no other airplanes to interfere with their landing. Brooke recited the before landing checklist and accomplished the items perfectly. As they continued the landing pattern, they could hear someone key a microphone on the frequency, “Cessna Three-Four Bravo, McLane, Kyle give me a call when you’re on the ground.”

          Kyle picked up the mic and double clicked it to informally acknowledge the message. Brooke said, “Your girlfriend must be looking for you.”

          “If I had a steady girlfriend she wouldn’t have to look for me. I’m always at the airport.”

          Brooke smiled, “In that case they must be repossessing your truck or something.”

          “Not likely,” Kyle laughed, “They’d take one look at it and decide it’s not worth hauling in.”

          Brooke flew the pattern smoothly and the Cessna’s tires chirped in harmony as she made a soft touchdown. Kyle knew that he would let her solo when she took her next lesson in a few days.

“Not bad for a girl, Brooke. Let’s taxi back and do one more before we quit for the day.”

          While Brooke raised the flaps and did the after landing checklist he picked up the mic, “McLane, Three-Four-Bravo—what’s up, Roy?”

          Roy McLane was the airport owner and Kyle’s boss.

          “Your next student showed up early. Do you want him to watch a video lesson while he waits?”

          “Actually, Brooke and I are just doing one more pattern and we’ll be done. Tell him he can preflight the airplane while I debrief Brooke.”

          “Okay, tell Brooke her husband is here too.”

          “You just told her.”

          Brooke had recently celebrated her thirty fifth birthday and her husband had given her flying lessons as her gift. Glenn Roberts was a prominent Corpus Christi surgeon and had been flying his own light twin for years. Brooke had shown an interest and he thought it would be great to have a qualified copilot for the trips they made together. She was petite, but athletic and her obsession with playing tennis not only kept her fit, but also produced a deep and attractive tan. He was pleased to see her enjoy a new challenge.

          They had reached the end of the taxiway and Brooke went through the before takeoff checklist. There was another airplane in the pattern to land and they waited for it to make its approach.

          Kyle asked, “Are you nervous with your husband watching?”

          She chuckled, “Of course not, I’m a pilot. I have nerves of steel.”

          “I’ll keep that in mind if he asks about your progress.”

          “He’s not here to check my progress. Glenn’s flying the twin up to Dallas tonight for a medical conference. He’ll be gone several days. As a matter of fact, I was hoping we could get in a couple of flying lessons while he’s gone. Can we fly again tomorrow?”

          “Sure, I’ll check the schedule and see what times are available.”

          Kyle turned his thoughts to the requirements for Brooke to solo. “Have you made your visit to the FAA doc for your flight physical?”

          She seemed to lose focus for a moment before answering. “I saw him this morning. He issued the student pilot’s license and first class medical certificate.”

          She turned away from Kyle and stared out the window as the doctor’s words played through her mind once again. She had decided not to discuss the diagnosis with her husband until he returned from Dallas.

This week I am enjoying some down time at one of Biloxi’s casino resorts. My wife, Diane has the dubious distinction of being born on D Day and we are celebrating her birthday by indulging ourselves on Gulf Coast cuisine and looking forward to a Randy Travis concert. My favorite traveling companion, good music, and all the crab legs you can eat. Life is good.

During a previous trip to Biloxi, I was working on my soon to be released(July 1) novel, SHADOW FLIGHT. I’ve mentioned before that I’m always looking for characters and while admiring the yachts in the resort’s marina, I encountered a gentleman who would unknowingly become the fictitious William B. Butler in SHADOW FLIGHT. I have sometimes been accused of including creative secret code in the names of my characters, but even though William B. Butler is a primary antagonist in the book, I adamantly deny that his name is code for Billy Bad Butt. A juvenile rumor such as that could sully my unblemished reputation as a writer. There are some things that only fan club members should be aware of.

Be that as it may, several chapters of the book were written with Biloxi as the backdrop and walking through the marina this morning was like visiting old friends. Billy Butler served me well as an antagonist and my hope is that you will dislike him as much as I do. In anticipation of SHADOW FLIGHT’S release, I will be introducing you to other characters and posting a few excerpts from the book next week. The cast includes airline pilots, general aviation pilots, aircraft mechanics, airline security personnel, military guys, and William B. Butler. I’m posting this from an IPad and don’t have the ability to cut and paste, so check back for the excerpts next week. Meanwhile, there is more to remember this week than Diane’s birthday. Salute a military guy or gal and let them know that D Day is not forgotten. I donate books to be sent to Iraq and Afghanistan and would encourage you to consider doing the same. Enjoy the weekend.

Yesterday, a Delta Mad Dog 88 was evacuated after landing in Atlanta. As I’ve said before, one of my purposes in  blogging is to offer insight as to what goes on behind the scenes in airline flying in hopes that it will make reading my novels more entertaining and informative. The ill-fated flight (How’s that for a newspaper phrase) landed on  Runway 8 Left and exited onto a taxiway to the right before evacuating due to a brake fire on the right landing gear. Fortunately there is a fire station located at the roll-out end of 8L and they were on scene almost immediately to smother the landing gear in foam.

There are several things to note in the photo above. Notice that the 737 in the top of the picture has side-stepped  to Runway 8 Right and continued the approach and landing. Life goes on. The fire is on the right side of the airplane so the captain’s evacuation orders would have been to use the left side exits only. If you look closely you can see the slide at the 1-left door is deployed. Also the tail cone has been ejected. There is an emergency slide at that location, but it appears that the flight attendants elected not to deploy it, probably due to visible smoke. The  148 seat airplane only carried 43 passengers so the evacuation probably happened pretty fast. Of course there may have been wheelchair passengers on board to complicate matters. Those of you who have read Equal Time Point will remember that there is no official limit  on the number of handicapped passengers that can be carried on a given flight. There are three flight attendants on a MD-88 and if there are ten handicapped passengers…I guess it’s time to prioritize. By the way, the captain is not normally informed as to how many carry on passengers are aboard, but I usually asked the flight attendants before departure. Contingencies, contingencies, contingincies.

Once the evacuation begins, it’s the crewmember’s duty to gather the people a safe distance from the airplane.  Notice that some of the passengers above are hugging, some are taking photos with their phones, but most of them have brought their carry-on luggage with them. When it comes to your laptop or your life, you have to make a tough decision.

In the photo above you can see that the 2-left door slide was also used. Also, notice that the spoilers on top of the wings have been stowed and the flaps remain in the down position. This accommodates the passengers that go out the over wing exits and are instructed to go to the back of the wing and slide down the flaps. There is a walkway painted with non-skid material on top of the wing with arrows to follow. On larger jets, there are slides at the over wing exits that deploy off the front of the wing. The slides can be detached and are used as life rafts in the event of a ditching. And you thought the flight attendants just served peanuts and drinks? Notice all the foam on the concrete above. Yes, it’s very slippery. Y’all be careful. 

Let’s talk about hot brakes and blown tires for a minute. As we all know, when air gets hot it expands. You pilots  remember that from weather 101. Those of you who are not pilots will remember that in the winter time you start getting those pesky low tire pressure messages in your car. The point is, when you try to stop an airplane that weighs several hundred thousand pounds and is going 150 miles per hour, it takes a lot of brakes. The brake rotors create a lot of heat and it is transferred to the tires. The aircraft wheels are actually designed with fuse plugs and when the tire temperature and pressure gets to a design limit, the plug lets go and deflates the tire. The idea is that it’s better to deflate the tire on purpose than to have it explode and send shrapnel through the wings and engines. Not to mention that if it exploded in the wheel well after takeoff, it could wipe out all the hydraulics and whatever. Sometimes tires do blow on landing, but it’s more common for them to deflate a few minutes later due to heat buildup. If enough heat is generated, it will catch the rubber of the tires on fire and you get the black smoke in the first photo above. In addition to that the air conditioning system imports the smoke into the cabin and the prudent decision is to evacuate. We’ll save the discussion of auto-brakes and anti-skid systems for another day. Meanwhile, kudos to the crew for a successful evacuation and thanks to the fire-rescue guys for swift action as always.

Two years ago (July 1, 2009), Air France 447 crashed into the Atlantic with 228 souls on board. The A330 was flying through the ITCZ (Inter Tropical Convergence Zone), an area  near the equator known for massive thunderstorms. I would never presume to draw  conclusions about an accident until all the facts are known, but I have been reading the speculation in the press and on various blogs. Neither of which I consider an unimpeachable source. Some facts do seem to be clear and I think will be the focus of the investigation now that the FDR and CVR have been recovered. The pitot tubes that provide airspeed info seem to be the target. Previous known problems with the tubes icing over and giving false readings lead to the speculation. The rudder system is also being scrutinized. I’ll try to keep this simple for my civilian readers and still offer some insight for my aviation readers. 

The pitot tube simply collects ram air as the airplane moves forward and the more air that is packed into the tube, the higher the airspeed needle moves along the instrument. In a small airplane the system is as simple as that and as long as a dirt dobber don’t cover the opening it works fine. If the pilot does lose the airspeed indication, he simply reverts to attitude flying. He sets an attitude and a power setting that he knows will produce a given airspeed. The main concern is not to get too slow. 

It’s a little more complicated in an airliner. First of all, there are three pitot systems. One  for the captain’s instruments, one for the first officer’s instruments and an auxiliary system. Each pilot has a selector to switch his instruments to the opposite pitot system if his fails. Another big difference is that the pitot tube does not feed the airspeed indicator. Its input is routed to an air data computer (ADC) which in turn computes info and feeds the airspeed indicator, the mach meter, the over speed warning system and the stall warning system. It also has angle of attack input. The abnormal checklist for erroneous airspeed indications can get rather long and complex. During abnormal procedures the two pilots are designated the pf and the pnf. Pilot flying and pilot not flying. It’s important that the pf concentrates on flying the airplane and not get too involved in the abnormal procedure that the pnf is working through. Much easier said than done and many examples will attest to that. Some fatal. 

Attitude flying in an airliner is a little more involved also. At altitude the jet actually operates  in a speed envelope. If you go to fast, you approach mach 1 and the airplane will mach tuck. The nose will drop as the shock wave travels further back on the wing. If you go too slow, you will obviously stall. The envelope grows very small at high altitudes and large gross weights. This is called coffin corner and it’s possible to get yourself in a situation where you can’t speed up and  you can’t slow down. AF447 was at 35,000 feet and carrying 228 people with enough fuel to reach Paris. Attitude flying at lower altitudes is a little different also as the gross weight of an airliner can vary several hundred thousand pounds. Some aircraft manuals actually have charts that equate attitude and throttle setting to airspeed. 

I mentioned the rudder earlier and I want to explain that. The size of the rudder on an  airliner has to be big enough to maintain directional control if you lose an engine or two on one wing during takeoff. It might take full rudder to do that until you build up some speed to make it more effective. However, if you jam that big rudder to the stops at .85 mach, it will rip the tail right off the machine. The engineers, God bless them, solve that problem by installing what is  called a rudder limiter. On the older jets it was a mechanical device that operated in conjunction with the flaps. When the flaps were up, the rudder was mechanically restricted to about one third of its travel. Now I will finally get to the point. On the newer jets, the rudder is restricted by airspeed. The faster the airplane goes, the more the rudder is restricted. This is a function  of the ADC which is fed info by the (all together now) pitot tube. Blocked pitot tube and erroneously low airspeed input equals the availability of full rudder at .85 mach.  

Autopilots are wonderful things, but they are controlled by computers that operate in a binary  world of their own. One, zero. Yes, no. Black, white etc. They don’t have the advantage of some old flight instructor reminding them to take it easy on the rudder. Who knows what happened in the cockpit of AF447? What was the speed margin between high and low buffet? How bad was the turbulence? Were the pilots getting over speed and stall warnings at the same time? I’m glad you and I were not there to know. Somebody should write a book.     

A trait is defined as a characteristic or a quality that distinguishes someone. As a writer, I’m always looking for traits that allow me to describe a character. I have long since decided that there is no stereotype for a pilot; however I think we do share subtle commonalities. I’m not talking about morality or ethics; although I hope that as a group our standards are high. I’m thinking more of a thought process and how that process transfers to the ability to fly an airplane. Those of you who are flight instructors will probably relate to this discussion more  readily than others. When someone decides they want to learn to fly, they usually bring certain traits with them when they arrive for the first lesson. They are usually someone who enjoys a challenge and pursues it with a stubborn persistence. They don’t give up easily. There is normally an underlying wanderlust and a desire for new adventures. I’m sure you CFIs are beginning to recognize the new student. They arrive with a varying level of confidence, but  there’s also a bit of anxiety and sometimes fear.   

By the time the student becomes a licensed pilot, the self confidence has been raised to a new  level, but the anxiety or fear has been molded into a cautious and prudent attitude and an approach to flight with careful planning and consideration of alternatives and contingencies. Before long these traits begin to encroach on the pilot’s everyday life, no matter what the task. Speaking of tasks, the pilot is soon multi-tasking and wondering why everyone doesn’t do it. Scanning the instruments while flying the airplane, navigating and talking on the radio becomes second nature, allowing him or her time to consider contingencies and form a situational awareness of traffic and weather around them. He or she sometimes wishes they were a fighter pilot so they could also be shooting at someone during this process. If you see someone listening to music while watching TV and reading a book, it’s probably a pilot. If they’re playing chess at the time, it’s almost a certainty. If he’s also gobbling a sandwich like his hair  is on fire, he’s probably a flight instructor or a regional airline pilot.  

In all seriousness (wait a minute, I was serious), it seems that being a pilot does make a person  more responsible. It speeds the brain up and probably the metabolism too. When athletes reach the professional level, they often say the speed of the game is the big difference. When a pilot is on the ground, life seems to meander at a slow place. Their mind is usually three steps ahead of what they’re doing and a good practical joke is often lurking in there hoping for an opportunity.  

In my two novels, Shadow Flight (coming July first) and Equal Time Point, I tried to do justice  to the traits of pilots. I would be very interested in your perception of pilots and other traits to consider. Prioritizing, focusing…is there such a thing as multi-focusing…

Several people have asked me about the photo at the header of my blog. I took the photo of the MD-11 (affectionately known as the Mighty Dog) parked on the taxiway at Kuwait City in April of 2003. An interesting time in Kuwait. Quite often the ramp would be full and a taxiway would be closed and used for parking. As usual, after the troops were unloaded from the military charter, we had several hours to wander around and kill time while waiting for fuel and our ferry flight back to Rome. You can tell it was windy because the rudder appears to be missing since it is displaced against the stops to the right. The gust lock doesn’t stop the rudder from moving, but it’s dampened by trapped hydraulic fluid. A brisk wind in Kuwait usually results in the photo below.

 The sandstorms appear rather suddenly and you always hope they didn’t blow in from Iraq, bringing whatever chemicals they happen to be playing with.

The “follow me” truck would drop us off at the runway and the mechanics in Rome had the honor of changing all the engine screens and filters to clean out the sand. A fun time was had by all.

The Friendly Aviation Administration has proposed new training rules for air crews. As with most new rules, the proposal is in reaction to a fatal accident. A Regional flight crashed on approach to Buffalo, New York two years ago, after a stall/spin event. Crew fatigue was cited as a factor as well as a load of ice on the wings for whatever reason. Fifty people died as a result. 

The proposal to prevent this from ever happening again will require pilots, flight attendants and dispatchers to train together as a team. I can see advantages to this type of training; however I will be willing to wager that when the team is assembled and opinions are solicited, every flight attendant and every dispatcher will vote not to do a stall/spin on approach. They will probably be opposed to carrying ice on the airframe as well. In my simple mind, the solution doesn’t seem to solve the problem. 

Flight attendants and dispatchers are essential to the safety and success of every airline flight, but their role in preventing stall/spin accidents escapes me. I mean, sure the experienced flight attendant knows that when the Martini’s slosh out of the glass, the pilot is using too much rudder, but I’m not sure she can help him. The dispatcher always provides the latest weather and icing reports, but the windshield, the ram air temp indicator and the static air temp indicator provides much more current information.  

The five years that I enjoyed as a pilot ground school instructor for a major air carrier tells me that this proposed training will be time consuming and a logistical fur ball. I like the concept, but as far as stall/spin accident prevention, I just don’t see it. As much as I hated steep turns and stall series in the simulator every six months, I never doubted the benefits of practicing them.  

Is it possible that we don’t emphasize the value of a good primary flight instructor enough? Aerodynamics are finite, humans are a work in progress.

The news reports several incidents in the last few days of passengers mis-behaving during flight—a bomb note in the lavatory, some Bozo beating on the cockpit door and some other Bozo trying to open an entrance door in flight. It seems that some people’s brain falls right out their posterior when they enter an airplane. I can relate to that because the same thing happens to me when I walk into a simulator.  

God bless the flight attendants who have to contend with these mentally deficient people. A normal day has enough challenges for the cabin crew without the addition of idiots on the loose. 

Let’s consider cause and effect. Three obvious causes come to mind.

1-Terrorism- Far be it from me to explain the motive of a terrorist.

2- Mental inadequacy- Something about DNA.

3- Alcohol- The most common factor. One drink at altitude is like two on the ground. 

Whatever the cause, the result will most often be an off schedule landing followed by an arrest. This is an extremely expensive move for the airline, but it’s the safest thing to do and economics is the captain’s last consideration.  

Let’s take a look at the three recent situations that caused off schedule landings. A bomb note in the lavatory is a bomb threat and very different from actually having a known bomb on board. The threat results in an immediate landing and calling out the explosive sniffing dogs to inspect the airplane and everyone’s luggage. The airplane will be parked in a remote area and the passengers placed on buses while their luggage is lined up on the concrete. They watch the dogs smell their suitcase and hope he doesn’t hike his leg. I’ve had several bomb threats and went through the drill, but never found a bomb. Having a known bomb on board is a long and complex procedure that we won’t get into here, but rest assured the crew is trained for it.

Someone beating on the cockpit door is a distraction, but the cockpit is fortified and the problem remains in the cabin. Did I mention, “God bless the flight attendants?” 

Someone trying to open an entrance door (I suppose an exit door in this case) in flight is not as dangerous as it sounds. Almost all the doors are plug type doors. That means the door is bigger than the hole it occupies. Once the engines are started and the air conditioning packs are turned on, the cabin will pressurize to one fourth of a pound per square inch. The pressure seals the door in it’s opening, making it very difficult to open. I know you’re thinking that you can’t evacuate during taxi, but the cockpit crew will open the outflow valve to immediately depressurize in the event of an evacuation. Without the initial cabin pressure on the ground, everyone’s ears would pop on liftoff like the older jets still do. As the airplane climbs, the cabin pressure increases to as much as eight pounds per square inch and I promise you the door will not open no matter how many idiots pull on it. 

Why can’t a guy just go out and enjoy flying the airplane without having to constantly consider all the contingencies? Of course, if that were the case I wouldn’t have anything to write books about.     

According to the Bureau of Transportation, in January of this year U.S. air carriers used 866,100,000 gallons of fuel at an average cost of $2.62 per gallon. Check my math. That’s $2,273,200,000 in fuel expense for the airlines. Add to that the expense of paying employees (about 80,000 for a large airline) and making the payments on a fleet of 150 million dollar airplanes. We won’t worry about the cost of leasing terminal space and paying landing fees. Suddenly the price I paid for my airline ticket doesn’t seem so bad after all. 

Every airline has a fuel conservation program and every pilot is burdened with balancing safety versus saving fuel. For instance, how much extra fuel should be carried on a particular flight? Obviously carrying extra fuel increases the gross weight and therefore the fuel burn. The FAR’s require that the total include fuel to destination, plus fuel to the alternate, plus forty five minutes of holding. International flights also require a ten per cent contingency to be added. I can’t count the number of times I watched my holding fuel disappear and wished I had carried more. Bad weather adds pressure for the decision, but weather is not the only reason you may have to seek an alternate. Consider the earthquake in Japan that closed the airports. I promise you there was not one inbound captain that thought he was fat on fuel.  

Another seemingly simple solution is to taxi on one engine. One engine provides plenty of thrust to taxi, but there are other considerations. Does one engine provide all the hydraulics, pneumatics, and electricity you need? Losing the brakes is not a good idea and reducing the air conditioning on a hot day doesn’t make you any friends except for the bean counters in the office. There are other things to consider. The airplane will begin its taxi with little more than idle thrust from two or three engines, but will require much more from one engine. I watched a Boeing 727 blow a jetway over in Greensboro, North Carolina one morning. I also saw a MD-11, taxing on one engine, create a tremendous and unexpected crosswind for a landing aircraft behind him at JFK. A string of expletives ensued that is uncommon to professional radio communications.  

Another interesting statistic that I recently saw indicated that 80% of general aviation accidents are fuel related. I can also think of four airliners off hand that ran out of fuel. An Air Canada 767 that was fueled improperly dead sticked to a safe landing. All I can say is, “WOW.” A DC-9 ditched in the Caribbean between St. Thomas and St. Croix, with multiple fatalities. A 707 ran out of fuel while holding at JFK and killed everyone aboard and a DC-8 ran out of fuel at Portland, Oregon with the same result.  

In keeping with the philosophy of rules by body count, the PDX accident was a fore runner of CRM training and the ditching is why airline crews now wear epaulets on their shoulders so that they can be identified in an emergency. There is a book titled 35  MILES FROM SHORE: The ditching and rescue of ALM flight 980 by Emilio Corsetti III describing the accident. Whoever said, “The only time you have too much fuel is when you’re on fire,” obviously has been there and done that. Fuel or the lack thereof is a factor in both of my novels, Shadow Flight (a Cessna 172) and Equal time Point (a MD-11).

The news this week evokes emotions and memories of the sadness of September, 2001. Like everyone else, it reminds me where I was and how it affected my life. At the time I was flying as a 767 international captain. On September tenth, I returned from a three day trip to South America and the next morning my wife and I watched Boeings fly into the trade centers and the pentagon. I viewed those events from the perspective of someone who sat in the left seat of a 767 and while the TV reporters speculated on how such a horrible accident could occur, Diane and I knew the answer. My annual training for the previous several years had included guest speakers from the FBI who updated us on various terrorist groups and their activities. The training was long on threats and short on solutions. 

We were shocked, but not totally surprised, when the second airplane hit the towers.  My first thoughts were for the crews and then their passengers. I was fortunate to be at home, but felt helpless as events unfolded. My next trip was scheduled to fly from New York to Tel Aviv, Israel and needless to say it was cancelled right away. In fact, all our flights to Middle Eastern destinations were suspended indefinitely. It would be ten days before I flew again and after an impromptu training session that basically told us, “Ya’ll be careful,” I was back in the air with new concerns for my crew and passengers. No matter how much training is provided, when the airplane leaves the gate you and your crew are pretty much on your own. Nothing new about that.  

Funny how the world changes. One of my subsequent rotations included a layover in New York where we visited ground zero. The sight and smell will always be with me. The next day we flew to Paris for another layover and then a night flight to Bombay (Mumbai), India. The flight plan kept us north of Syria and Iraq, but pretty much through the center of Iran. As I talked to the controllers in Tehran air traffic control, I wondered what their political persuasion was. They were very professional in any case. We flew just to the south of Afghanistan and knew that U.S. forces were busy cleaning out terrorist camps as we drank coffee and watched Kandahar slide by on the Nav screen. We passed Pakistan and across the Arabian Sea to Bombay where we stayed at the famous Taj Mahal Hotel. The Taj would be bombed later by a terrorist group but fortunately all the airline crews escaped unharmed.  

As I sit here blogging and looking out my second story window at a quiet neighborhood, I know that I have been blessed with more than I deserve and for that I am thankful.