"Flight" The Movie - A Word To The Wise

I have conflicting emotions after seeing the movie Flight.  I enjoy movies about aviation, even though the consultants hired to make sure things are right and correct are either idiots, readily ignored or both.  Along the same vein, I have two brothers-in-law who are attorneys and neither one can stand to watch a single episode of Law and Order without stomping out of the room in disgust. I, on the other hand, enjoy the aviation aspect of  movies enough to overlook what seems so obviously wrong long enough to be entertained.

On a light note, I sincerely wish my MD80 had those sexy winglets.  As you are probably aware, there are a few inconsistencies with reality in this and just about any other movie about aviation...MD80s do not have winglets.  I've often said winglets are for wimps,  but that's only because I don't have them.

Seriously though, I am concerned by what I suspect will be an increasing trend of passengers asking pilots if they've been drinking on the job.  Lets be very clear...this is no joking matter.  Accusing a pilot of being under the influence, joking or not, is no different than joking about a bomb at airport security.

I don't necessarily think this applies to people interested enough in aviation to be reading my blog, but I strongly suspect most people have no idea what pilots do day in and day out.  I start my job the night before a trip by getting a good night's rest, because a tired, fatigued or sleep deprived pilot is no better than one who has been drinking.  After arriving at the airport, I spend about an hour researching weather along the route, reading any Notice to Airmen pertaining to the facilities I plan to use, researching the maintenance history of the aircraft and checking the accuracy and legality of the flight plan prepared for my flight by company dispatch.  By the time you see me walking onto the jet bridge, I'm already well prepared.

I am often asked if I actually do anything anymore.  (Picture my frown and furrowed brow.)  You know, with all the computers and everything, pilots just sit there and watch...right?

Have you heard?  New jet aircraft will be crewed by one pilot and a dog. 

The pilot is there to feed the dog...and the dog is there to bite the pilot if he touches anything.  

Even on the most automated aircraft, pilots still play a roll that cannot be replaced.  Many of us still hand fly everything but cruise flight because we enjoy it...and no one allows the jet to land itself unless the weather dictates otherwise.  Even with the autopilot engaged, we are there to intervene when things don't work properly and we're there to make decisions that no computer, no matter how good, can make without the sights, smells, sensations and experience of a professional pilot.  

If you're a regular follower of my ramblings, then you know I have a good sense of humor and that I've always found a healthy dose of self deprecating humor to be good for the soul.  But I can only take so much and I see no humor in being accused of flying while under the influence of anything.

People innocently poke their head into the cockpit as they board and ask some of the most ridiculous things I've ever heard.  Here are the three most common questions.  First, do you really know what all those buttons do?  This is an honest and harmless question and the answer is yes.  I know what all the switches do.  I also know how they interact with each other, how they are powered in case there's an electrical power interruption during flight and I know what happens and what to do if they don't work as designed.

The second question I hear the most is...did you get enough sleep last night?  This is also an honest and harmless question, but I usually lie and tell people that I'm perfectly fresh and rested.  The truth may be that I spent eight hours behind the door of a crappy hotel on a noisy street with some crazy couple having sex all night in the room next door.  The truth may be that I've already been on duty for 12 hours, worked four or five flights dodging thunderstorms all day, and that the FAA says I'm legal for up to 16 hours at the controls...but I don't think people want the truth and I'd probably get fired for giving it to them.

"You can't handle the truth!"

The third most common question I hear from passengers is playfully related to my sobriety.  The answer of course is that I haven't had a drink in at least 8 hours.  "Eight hours bottle to throttle."  That's the law.  For me personally, the answer is that I haven't had a drink in at least 12, but that's just my personal rule.  Many airlines and individual pilots agree with me on this and have policies that are at least as restrictive as mine.

I've already stated this, but it's important enough to say again.  Accusing a pilot of being under the influence, joking or not, is an action that will be taken seriously.  It is a criminal offence for a pilot to arrive at the airport with the intention of working a flight while under the influence of alcohol or any other drug.  He can and will be arrested even if he never sets foot on the actual airplane.  Flight  puts all this in the public eye.  The movie depicts an airline pilot acting in a criminal manner, and while the movie is intended as entertainment, it will no doubt generate negative attitudes and comments from passengers.

These comments, made in poor taste and judgement, will receive varied responses from flight crews.  It all depends on the crew member and their perceived seriousness of the accusation.  One pilot may elect to ignore the comment altogether.  Honestly, I've done this many times.  "See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil."  Only once in my career have I ever interpreted such a comment as a true accusation.  In this case, the flight was delayed over an hour as I insisted on a drug and alcohol test before I would continue with my duties.  For the record, I hadn't had a drink in days.

The legal limit for pilots in the U.S. is .04% blood alcohol, half the .08% allowed in most states to manipulate the controls of an automobile.  I set my personal rule at 12 hours because there have been reports of pilots consuming high alcohol content drinks well outside the 8 hour window and still testing above the limit at duty time.  I want and you deserve the extra cushion.

So go ahead and enjoy the movie.  I know I did.  But understand that it's just a movie and don't even consider accusing a pilot of being under the influence of alcohol unless you have good reason for suspicion.

Read More

NORDO - Out Of Radio Contact

NORDO is an aviation term referring to an aircraft that is unexpectedly out of radio contact...no radio.  As you might imagine, NORDO has taken on new meaning since the 9/11 terrorist attacks.   Not that it hasn't always been serious, but unusual or non existent radio contact was the first indication controllers working hijacked flights on 9/11 had that something wasn't right.  Few have forgotten that lesson.

A high profile NORDO event occurred in 2009 when Northwest Airlines Flight 188, an Airbus A320, went without radio contact for over 75 minutes.  To make matters worse, the pilots of this flight somehow managed to overfly their destination by 150 miles in spite of all the training, experience and technology available to them. In this case, it was a flight attendant calling the cockpit to find out why they hadn't started to descend who finally clued the cockpit into the fact that they had made a serious error. Both pilots not only lost their jobs, but we're eventually stripped of their pilots licenses by the United States Federal Aviation Administration.

   

The stakes are high in a business where errors in procedure and judgment can and do result in the loss of life.  It's important to learn from our mistakes; but unfortunately, since mistakes commonly result in punishment that could include time off from work, loss of pay and even suspension of revocation of a hard earned license, self-reporting would be rare without a program known as ASAP.

Pilots, dispatchers, mechanics and even flight attendants are invited to participate in a safety reporting program known as the Aviation Safety Action Program or ASAP.  The following is an excerpt from an FAA Advisory Circular published in 2002.  "The objective of ASAP is to encourage air carrier and repair station employees to voluntarily report safety information that may be critical to identifying potential precursors to accidents.  The Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) has determined that identifying these precursors is essential to further reducing the already low accident rate.  Under an ASAP, safety issues are resolved through corrective action rather than through punishment or discipline.  The ASAP provides for the collection, analysis, and retention of the safety data that is obtained."

The program provides a system for gathering useful data that will be analysed for trending safety issues in exchange for a promise that unintentional mistakes will not be prosecuted.  Air Traffic Controllers have a similar self-reporting system known as ATSAP that works in much the same way. 

I know all this ASAP business is a little dry, but it's important and I'll come back to it.

On a recent flight, I was at the controls while the captain worked the radios and ran checklists. We were on an Air Traffic Control vector to intercept the final approach course in visual flight conditions when the approach controller got busy handling a problem with another aircraft. The other aircraft was returning to the airport with some sort of mechanical problem and was going to land opposite direction from the normal flow of traffic.

I could see the other aircraft, a small single engine Cessna, on the TCAS screen and made a mental note of its position relative to ours. We were about the same distance from the airport as the Cessna, but we were traveling well over twice its speed and would easily beat the small plane to the airport.  We were landing on different, but closely aligned runways and I didn't expect a conflict.

Normally, an approach controller will tell a pilot to call the tower on a specific frequency.  Sometimes the frequency is left out of the instruction, but it's helpful information, especially at an airport with multiple tower frequencies.  "Flight 123, contact tower on frequency 126.55."

As we descended through about 1,500 feet on the approach, I overheard a radio transmission that caught my attention and I realized we had not yet been switched over to the tower frequency.  The captain hadn't picked up on this, so I reminded him that we were still talking to approach.  Normally, if I haven't been switched over to the tower before about 2,000 feet above touchdown, I assume that the controller has forgotten to switch us over and will either transmit a gentle reminder or switch over on my own if the frequency is too congested to get a word in.  In this case, there was far too much confusion and verbal congestion on the approach frequency to request the handoff, so the captain elected to switch over on his own.

By the time we first called the tower, we were descending through 1,000 feet above touchdown.  This is where things got confusing and where we, as the flight crew, made a mistake.

We printed a copy of the ATIS (Automatic Terminal Information Service) about 30 minutes before landing. The ATIS informed us that the tower frequency had changed and provided a new frequency to be used. We made note of the change, but in the heat of the moment, the captain glanced down at his chart and dialed the inactive tower frequency into the #1 Comm radio. He called repeatedly, but the tower was monitoring another frequency and never heard his transmissions. In desperation, he tried the ground control and clearance delivery frequencies listed on the chart but for reasons unknown did not get an answer on those frequencies either.

By this point, we were descending through 300 feet above touchdown without a landing clearance. I considered going around, but then I remembered the Cessna.  I glanced at the TCAS and noted that the Cessna was now about three miles out and still appeared to be landing opposite direction. A go-around would have put us nose to nose...most likely with no radio contact. I visually scanned the runway and the taxiways around the runway and determined that the area was clear of traffic.  I told the captain that I intended to land unless he instructed me to go-around.  But before he could respond I glanced at the tower and noticed the green light.

Oddly enough, I had attended the annual AirVenture fly-in aviation convention in Oshkosh, Wisconsin just weeks earlier. I walked through the FAA's exhibit while I was there and happened to pick up a sticker entitled "Air Traffic Control - Light Gun Signals."  I placed the sticker, with no intention of ever needing it, inside the front cover of my Jepps binder.  I remembered that the signal for "cleared to land" was a solid green light. To be honest, this was information that I hadn't reviewed in many years.  The tower controller was watching.  He knew we were out of radio contact.  And he was using a light gun to clear us to land.

I almost missed the signal. It was dim and difficult to see and certainly would not have caught my attention if I had not looked directly at the tower, but it was the clearance we needed. As we passed through 50 feet above touchdown I started to reduce thrust, pulled slightly on the yoke and set the aircraft softly onto the runway. It's funny how clear things seem in hindsight   It wasn't until after touchdown that I realized what we had done.

Ugh...that sinking feeling in the pit of your gut.  No one likes to make mistakes, but I think pilots as a group are harder on themselves than most.  I think its just part of being a professional...we demand the best of ourselves at all times.

I'm about to get back to that ASAP thing...

Realizing our mistake, I reminded the captain about the frequency change and he made contact with the tower. I appreciated the kind words and reassuring tone from the controller...and I got the impression we hadn't been the first to make that particular error.  "No harm no foul" he said.  We asked if the ground and clearance frequencies were monitored and he indicated that they were.  I'm not sure why we hadn't been able to make contact on the other two frequencies.

After we completed the parking checklist, I called the tower on my cell phone and spoke to the controller who had worked our flight. The guy was understanding and affirmed our decision not to go-around.  I think the idea of us going nose to nose with the Cessna while unable to communicate scared him at least as much as it scared me.  He made it clear that the light gun signal was a legal clearance to land.  No violation would be filed.

I feel I should add this note about the phone call.  While I've done it a number of times, I have been told by people on the inside that a phone call to the tower could potentially lead to negative results.  Sometimes, especially at large airports, the phone may be answered by a supervisor, not the controller who worked your flight.  It is possible that the supervisor might not agree with the controller's assessment, so you could be outing yourself with the phone call.  Be careful out there folks, there are ample opportunities to make your life more complicated than it needs to be.

Now back to ASAP...

The stated purpose of the ASAP program is to learn from the errors we will inevitably make, and to improve the already increasingly safe skies over the United States.

As unfortunate as it may be, the word from an air traffic controller or Federal Inspector can't always be taken at face value.  It may not be intentional, but for a number of reasons, the decision to file a violation against a crew may be out of the hands of a well intentioned controller like the one I described here.  I'm sure he had no intention of reporting the event, but there are internal and external reviews in place that could override that decision.

For that reason, even though I still believe we had a legal landing clearance, I elected to file an ASAP report.  Unfortunately for the pilots of Northwest flight 188, the ASAP report did not save them from an inevitable outcome.  Personally, I disagree with that decision, but their mistake was too great and too public to be overlooked.  Mine on the other hand was quietly accepted into the program.  The event has by now been "collected, analysed, and retained" and will be tracked for a possible trend.

Hopefully, I won't be the only person who learns from my mistake.

Read More

Upside Down in an Airliner?

Even if you don't have a clear understanding of the instrumentation, the following picture should send shivers down your spine...

This old fashion "six-pack" instrument panel...quickly becoming a rare sight...paints a dire picture.  The most alarming instrument of course is the one in the middle...the "attitude indicator" or Primary Flight Display as we call it.  This jet is in a 120 degree left bank accompanied by a 10 degree nose up attitude.  At 5,240 feet above sea level descending at 1,500 feet per minute with an indicated airspeed of 200 knots, the pilot doesn't have much room for recovery.  What you can't see in the picture is that the wing is clean (flaps and slats retracted) and the minimum maneuvering speed is 235 knots.  Alarming to say the least.

You might be wondering two things.  First...how on earth did the pilot (me) let the aircraft get into this predicament in the first place and second...how could he (again...it's me) be so derelict in his duties to stop and take a picture instead of reacting to a clearly life threatening situation.  The answer to both is that this is a simulated event.  I recently attended recurrent training, a four day refresher course that my airline puts me through every 9 months.  Day one and two consisted of ground school classes on various subjects.  Day three consisted of a two hour simulator brief followed by four hours in the sim practicing all types of approaches and emergency situations.  Day four consisted of a LOFT (Line Oriented Flight Training) during which we flew from point A to point B in real time, encountering a number of unusual situations and mechanical abnormalities along the way. 

After the LOFT, my training partner and I received two hours of "Advanced Maneuvers Training" where we were subjected to the situation pictured above.  The picture could depict one of any number of scenarios, but the most likely, especially at such a low altitude, is an encounter with wake turbulence.

An airplane makes a wake through the air much like a boat makes a wake in the water.  Except that instead of a one dimensional spread on the surface of the water, the wake behind an airplane spreads out and sinks.  The wake rolls off the wingtips, creating little tornadoes in its path, and is most severe behind large aircraft at low airspeeds.  To visualize this, picture dragging your hand through the surface of the water in a pool.  If you pull your hand through the water quickly, like a speed boat skimming across the surface of the water, the result is a relatively small wake.  Now drag your hand through the water a little slower and allow your hand to sink deeper into the water.  The result is a much larger wake.  A large airplane flying at approach speeds (relatively slow) creates the largest wake.

There are ample opportunities to encounter wake turbulence as aircraft criss-cross the skies, but there are really only three scenarios when it becomes a common threat.  The most unlikely encounter is during cruise flight.  Large commercial aircraft typically fly roads in the sky called Jet Airways.  It is possible that one airplane could fly the exact path of another, especially with advances in navigation technologies like GPS that literally put aircraft within inches of an airway centerline.  But GPS navigation has also resulted in the ability to "cut the corner" and fly direct between points, thus decreasing the chance of encountering wake turbulence while at altitude.  Also, since wake turbulence tends to sink over time, it is highly unlikely to encounter wake turbulence even when flying at the minimum required distance behind another airplane.

A more common opportunity to encounter this type of turbulence is on an approach.  As I mentioned before, an airplane creates the largest wake when it is traveling at slower airspeeds as when approaching for landing.  As the picture below suggests, there is a pre-determined glide path that a pilot is expected to fly when approaching an airport.  And again, since wake turbulence sinks, as along as each pilot follows the prescribed "glide slope," an encounter with the wake from a preceding airplane is unlikely.

ILS 25L, Los Angeles, California

However, pilots don't always fly the glide slope.  The pilot ahead on an approach may have started down late or could have been held up high by an approach controller.  Either way, if the airplane ahead is high on the glide slope, then its wake could easily sink into your flight path.  To complicate matters, it is often difficult to know if the guy ahead is high or low, so a pilot must always be prepared for such an encounter.

The last and, in my experience, most common opportunity for a wake turbulence event is during the initial climb after takeoff.  Every flight instructor tells new students to make note of the lift-off and touchdown points of arriving and departing aircraft.  Wingtip vortices begin when an airplane lifts off the runway and end when it touches down.  If you can lift off before the preceding departure and climb above its flight path, you will avoid wake turbulence.  You will also avoid wake turbulence if you fly above the flight path of an arriving aircraft and land beyond its touchdown point.

The MD82 I fly is an old design that takes significantly more runway to takeoff than newer aircraft of similar size like the Boeing 737 and Airbus A320.   Even larger aircraft like the Boeing 757 often use less runway than my old MD82.  The result is that I often find myself in the danger zone after lift-off and during the initial climb.  In this scenario, the best course of action is distance and the passage of time.  When taking off behind the heaviest of aircraft, five to six miles in-trail and/or 2 minutes, is usually enough time for the wake from a preceding departure to sink and dissipate to a point that it is no longer dangerous.   

What you see above is the most probable cause of the situation I found myself in.  Air rolls off the wingtips of just about any airplane and forms a spiral flow of air like a small tornado.  The "vortex" formed by a significantly heavy aircraft is large enough to completely envelope an MD82.  When encountered, this little tornado will roll the airplane on its longitudinal axes and could easily flip the aircraft upside down.  I went from level flight to what you saw in the top picture in two seconds...and as I mentioned before, the proximity to the ground combined with my speed left little room to recover.

Speed and altitude are your friend!

The proper recovery technique involves a combination of aileron and rudder inputs in the opposite direction of the roll in addition to pitch and power management.  It is also important to note that most any airplane is structurally designed to withstand full authority rudder input.  But it is not designed to accept a full reversal...that is, to push one rudder to the floor, then immediately reverse inputs and push the other rudder to the floor.  In the event pictured above, I pushed on the right rudder and commanded almost full aileron input to the right to counteract the roll caused by a wake turbulence encounter.  I pushed the nose down slightly below the horizon in order to control speed and increased power on the engines.  If managed correctly, you should be able to safely exit the wake with minimal altitude loss.  In this event, I lost less than 1,000 feet before recovering to straight and level flight.

We refer to this as "Unusual Attitude" training.  Wake turbulence is just one example of an event that could induce an unusual attitude, but the training is invaluable and is something we practice frequently during our regular training cycle.  As is the case with many aspects of aviation, avoidance is the best policy, but rest assured, your pilot has been well trained.

Read More

Video: American Airlines' First Boeing 777-300 Takes Flight

Food for thought...and speculation.  Back in May, American Airlines announced flight numbers and markets for its new Boeing 777-300 that was expected to enter service this December.  Due to issues with the production of new first class seats, the new airliner's introduction has now been pushed back to late January.  Dallas/Fort Worth – Sao Paulo will be the first route to feature the newest addition to American’s fleet, with planned service from both Dallas/Fort Worth and New York to London Heathrow expected in February.

In addition to the B777, American also has a recently delayed order for the Boeing 787 and a significant order for the Airbus A320 family of aircraft.  It is believed that American will primarily order the A319 and A321 variants.  These new airplanes do not have aluminum skins, but are constructed with composite materials that are essentially super-strong plastics that must be painted.  Although American has owned and operated Airbus aircraft before (A300-600), it has been long rumored that the company will change its livery as it emerges from bankruptcy protection.  

At this year’s Global Business Travel Association convention, American Chief Executive Tom Horton hinted at a new look when he stated “We're working on modernization of the American Airlines brand and we'll unveil something in the future. We're also thinking about the look of our airplanes, stay tuned on that.’’

Last week, I posted the following design from Anthony Harding as one of many suggestions for what the new American may look like.  Like it or not, the video suggests this one may not be far off.  

Below is video of American's first Boeing 777-300 undergoing high speed tests then taking flight.  Clearly the paint is not complete, but it will most certainly lead to more speculation.

Read More

Early Morning Departures

Four days ago, I was packing for the next day's early morning departure when I got a call from another pilot begging to trade trips. I had a long layover in New Orleans and he commutes from there. I've commuted four times in my career and hated to deny the guy a night at home, so even though I was looking forward to a night in New Orleans, I agreed to the trade.

I'm still glad I did, but oh my goodness, the early morning departures on that trip were a little too much. I've always been a morning person, often to the detriment of those around me. My parents are quick to recall memories of me as a child, wide awake before 5am...and not quietly either. Apparently, my favorite 5am activity was whistling.  My parents take great joy in the fact that my own children have inherited the trait.

I have since outgrown my propensity for early morning living and have learned to appreciate waking after the sunrise. That isn't to say that I don't like to fly in the morning, because I do. I just wish getting up was a little easier.

I love the early morning smooth air.   In the summer, the temperature is still pleasant and the thunderstorms haven't yet had a chance to mushroom. I enjoy the brilliant orange color of the sky as the sun peeks up over the horizon. And I absolutely cherish the fact that the proverbial you-know-what has rarely had time to hit the fan when the sun has yet to cast a shadow.

I took these pictures on the second and third mornings of the trip. On day two, we departed Philadelphia, PA at 6:25am.  We taxied out to spot 8 where we waited our turn behind the EMB-175 parked in front of us in the picture. Our total taxi time was under ten minutes. Unusual for delay-prone Philly.

Day three was an even earlier morning with a 6am departure out of Atlanta. Let me help you with the math on this...a 6am departure requires a 5am show at the airport. That means we left the hotel at 4:40 and woke up at about 4.  Granted, some could get ready faster, but I need time to look this good.  Also, since we live in the central time zone, 4am was really 3 body time.  Of course, I don't have it as bad as our west coast crews, whose body would think it was 1am on the same trip.  Early.

For me, half the battle is getting to sleep early enough to get the rest my body needs.  For the trip I'm describing here, I'd need to be asleep by 8pm in order to get the 8 hours of sleep I'm hoping for.

I have a routine that usually works.  I almost always work out on a layover, but I exercise early.  Do this too close to bedtime and getting to sleep is difficult.  I eat a light meal around 4pm and rarely consume alcohol.  (That one only applies to early departures:) Then I retire to my room by 6 and start winding down.  I close the drapes in an attempt to fool my head into thinking it's later than it really is, take a shower and get in bed as early as I can.  Then I read or watch TV until I my eyes get heavy.  For me, the next step is key.  At the first sign of drowsiness, I turn the light off and go to sleep.  I've found that if I power through heavy eyes at any time, falling asleep later in the evening is exceptionally difficult.

Of course, the hotel is almost never quiet at this time of night.  So even if I'm able to fall asleep early, someone or something usually disturbs my slumber.  Slamming doors and loud TV's are the usual culprit.  It isn't easy, but it's important.  Studies have shown that driving (or flying) while sleep deprived can be as dangerous as driving under the influence of alcohol.

This last picture was taken at the top of descent into DFW. Two hours into the flight and the sun was just showing interest in the day. If you look closely, you can just see my wingtip in the right side of the picture. (As a side note, the wing tip is quite difficult to see from the cockpit of an MD80 unless you have your face pressed firmly against the cockpit windows.)

So I'm back at home now, recuperating from the last three days.  That trip really didn't look so bad on paper, but I'm so tired right now that I actually feel a little sick.  My goal for the evening is to find some way to stay awake until my normal bedtime.  Like most pilots, I have young children at home, so sleeping in isn't an option.  I'll sleep until around 6 and it will feel like a luxury!

Three days off and I'll be back for more.

Read More

New Livery for American Airlines?

For decades American Airlines has flown unpainted, polished aluminum airplanes. But that may soon change.  American’s livery has been in use since 1967, outlasting mergers, failures and shifting tastes across the industry. A new exterior also may mean dropping the signature bare-metal skin that dates to the era of propeller-driven airliners, which the airline has called a fuel-saver because an unpainted plane weighs less.

Months ago, American Chief Executive Tom Horton hinted at a meeting of corporate travel managers that a new logo and new paint scheme for jets are coming, likely as the company emerges from bankruptcy-court reorganization and tries to set a new course.  Given the events of the past month, emerging with a new image is as important as ever.

“This is going to be a new airline,’’ Mr. Horton said at the Global Business Travel Association convention in Boston. He was referring to American’s plans to emerge from bankruptcy as an independent carrier, not to an ongoing exploration and evaluation of a possible merger with US Airways or some other airline.  “ We're working on modernization of the American Airlines brand and we'll unveil something in the future. We're also thinking about the look of our airplanes,’’ Mr. Horton said. “Stay tuned on that.’’

Besides image and fuel savings, there’s a structural reason American is going to have to start painting its planes. The Boeing 787s American has on order don’t have aluminum skins, but are constructed with composite materials that are essentially super-strong plastics that must be painted. Large portions of the new Airbus planes American has ordered are also fabricated with composite materials.

Change is rarely easy and almost never pleases everyone.  But it's almost a certainty that American Airlines will emerge from bankruptcy looking much different than it does today.  Hopefully the change will be more than skin deep.

A quick google search produced a handful of creative ideas for what the "new" American may look like.  In no particular order.  Take a look and see what you think.  

Read More

One Frequency - Two Airplanes - Same Call-Sign

Pilots quickly learn to speak clearly, to say only what needs to be said and to pay close attention not only to what is being said to them, but to the communication between other aircraft and air traffic control as well. We refer to this as situational awareness...an awareness of what is going on round you. Accidents have been avoided and lives saved by pilots and controllers who paid close enough attention to those around them to identify mistakes and misunderstandings early enough to prevent disaster.

A few weeks ago, I began a three day trip with a short flight from Dallas to San Antonio, Texas. There was a passenger in every seat and a cockpit jumpseater along for the ride. The jumpseat is an extra seat in the cockpit intended for FAA observation of the flight crew, but when it isn't being used for that purpose, a pilot is allowed to occupy the seat for personal travel.  Sometimes, having an extra body in the cockpit is an annoyance, especially on long flights, but the up side is an extra set of eyes and ears. 

We closed the cabin door and pushed away from the gate for an on-time departure.  As we approached the end of the runway, the tower cleared us for takeoff. "Flight 123, RNAV GVINE, runway 36R, cleared for takeoff."  It was my leg, so as we lined up on the runway centerline, I advanced the throttles. But before the engines had time to spool up, the captain reached up and pulled the throttles back to idle.  "We don't have a takeoff clearance" he said.  He misunderstood the clearance and thought we had been told to "line up and wait" on the runway. "Line up and wait" is a clearance to line up on the runway and stop until cleared for takeoff.

"Line up and Wait" 

I glanced over my shoulder at the jumpseater who I could tell had heard our takeoff clearance, but anytime there's confusion over a clearance, the thing to do is ask. I was about to clarify with the tower, but before I could get the words out, we overheard an aircraft on final approach call the tower.  "Tower, Flight 123, visual 36L," to which the tower responded "Flight 123, wind 330 at 15, runway 36L cleared to land."  Well now we were really confused.

Obviously, I'm not using the real call sign or flight number here, but there was a guy on final to runway 36L who had our exact call sign. Two airplanes...on the same frequency...one landing…one taking off...both with the exact same call sign. How could that possibly happen?

This was the first leg of a three day trip for me and my crew, but Flight 123 originated in another city earlier in the day.  Off the top of my head, I can't remember the actual details, but let’s say Flight 123 was scheduled to leave San Diego, California at 7am, but was delayed and didn't actually leave until 8.  Let’s say Flight 123 was originally scheduled to arrive in Dallas at 12 o'clock noon (two hour time difference), but due to the late departure, didn't actually land until 1pm. 

Flight 123 was a thru flight, originating in San Diego with a stop in Dallas before continuing to San Antonio.  The San Antonio flight (mine) was scheduled to leave Dallas at 1pm. The original plan was probably for the jet from San Diego flight to land at noon and continue on to San Antonio.  But the original flight was late, so the airline decided to use another aircraft in order to keep the operation running on time. 

Have I lost you yet?

Since this was the first leg of my trip, I knew nothing about the late arrival from San Diego, and the flight crew working the flight from San Diego to Dallas knew nothing about me.  My flight should have been identified as a "stubbed" flight and the flight number should have been changed.  Usually, this is accomplished by adding a letter to the end of the original call sign.  In this case my new call sign might have been Flight 123P. But somehow, the fact that these two flights would intersect was not noticed by anyone and my flight number was not changed.  

The captain set the parking brake right there on the runway.  He had no intention of moving the aircraft until we clearly understood the situation.  I'm a little surprised that the tower controller didn't chime in with some clarifying instruction at this point, but he didn’t.  Sometimes, I think we get so accustomed to the normal flow of things, that we don't notice slight irregularities.  So I keyed the mic and asked for clarification.  “Tower, Flight 123, please confirm we're cleared for takeoff on runway 36R.” 

There was long pause before we got response.  I'm guessing the guy in the tower was a confused as we were at that point.  He finally responded. “Flight 123...airborne on final to runway 36L...you are cleared to land.  Break.  Flight 123...on the ground on runway 36R...RNAV to GVINE, runway 36R, cleared for takeoff.”

I’m not sure exactly what went wrong or who was supposed to catch this, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't me.  At any rate, we were now confident in our clearance so I pushed the throttles up and away we went.  In hindsight, it would probably have been better to wait until the other Flight 123 had landed before we tookoff.  I can only imagine the confusion if the other flight had been forced to go-around and we had both been in the air at the same time.  Insert cliche about hindsight here...

Read More