An Airline Pilot Checkride

I crawled into the cockpit, ducked my head to avoid scraping my bald head on the minefield that is the overhead panel and set my kitbag in the space designed for it next to my seat.  As I sunk into my sheep-skin covered seat and began building my “nest”, I looked up at the instrument panel and couldn’t help noticing how everything looked, felt and smelled normal.  Just another flight.  We were on the ground in Memphis, Tennessee and the terminal was clearly in view out the window.  The large, back-lit sign on the jetbridge read C12…news to me since I had entered the cockpit by way of the Flight Training Center, not the airport terminal.

Flight 611 from Memphis to Dallas was actually going to take place in a simulator on day four of my recurrent training assignment.  I return to the Flight Academy once every nine months to get one of two different training routines.  Nine months ago, while completing a three day training event, I got one full day in the classroom followed by two days in the sim.  The first, a day of training with one of our instructors.  The second, a checkride during which a check-airman thoroughly probed my abilities as an aviator. 

Nine months ago, I was tested on my ability to fly every type of approach I’m qualified to perform and refreshed my skills at handling a number of emergencies as well.  Time and distance were not factors as the instructor could place me outside the outer marker for the ILS approach to runway 28 in Chicago and five minutes later set me up to intercept the final approach course for an RNAV approach in Dallas.  The seasons could be changed faster than anything in real life allowing us to fly a heavy weight departure out of Denver at 100 degrees Fahrenheit followed by an icy winter approach and landing in New York a few minutes later. 

This month’s training event took one day longer than the routine I completed nine months ago, adding a day of classroom study to the schedule.  This time around the classes were designed to refresh my memory of aircraft systems, flight manuals, regulations, safety, security and human factors.  Day three took place in the simulator and looked remarkably similar to my first day in the sim 9 months ago with a thorough review of normal and abnormal procedures.

Today, day four of my current training cycle, was different than anything I did nine months ago.  Flight 611 was going to take place in real time.  Commonly referred to as a LOFT, or Line Oriented Flight Training, the purpose of today’s flight was to observe a real flight, in real time, with no outside help or influence not normally available to the flight crew.  Something was going to go wrong.  I didn’t know what and I didn’t know when, but I knew it was coming.  I would have to handle the situation as I would in real life and I would be graded on my performance and held responsible for the outcome. 

As I got comfortable, the check-airman sitting behind me took on the role the world outside the cockpit.  He would be the gate agent, flight attendant, push crew, ramp controller, ground, tower, departure and en-route controller and anyone else we needed to be in contact with during our flight.  What he would not be was an instructor.  During a normal training exercise in the simulator, it isn’t at all uncommon for the instructor to hit pause and carry on a conversation with the pilots as the aircraft is suspended in a moment of time.  Finish teaching, hit play, and let things start where they left off.  There would be none of that today.

The normal pressures of an every-day flight started about 5 minutes in as the instructor…excuse me…as the gate agent began pushing for an on-time departure that had been intentionally and unreasonably set by the instructor.  This really was going to feel real.  The Captain and I had to make a conscious effort to slow things down and do things right the first time.  You rarely get an opportunity for a do-over in aviation.

With the cockpit prepped and ready for departure and the simulator door closed behind us, I heard a high pitched beep from outside the sim warning anyone within a few hundred feet that the simulator’s draw-bridge style walkway was about to raise.  Shortly thereafter I felt the sim begin to move as the motion system was engaged.  From here on, everything would look and feel real.

The interphone crackled as the Crew Chief advised the Captain that the walk around and FOD check (Foreign Object Debris) was complete and gave him clearance to release brakes and call for push-back.  “Memphis Ground, American 611, C12, Push-back.” 

We pushed back from the gate, started both engines and began our taxi to runway 18C with visibility reported at 2400 RVR (Runway Visual Range).  Honestly, I was a little surprised it wasn’t lower.  Anything less than 1800 RVR and we would need a takeoff alternate, since we would need at least that much to return to Memphis in the event of an engine failure.  Instructors like to set the visibility below single engine minimums to see if you will pick up on the fact that you are legally required to have a take-off alternate.  It's a common gotcha, but as I said, would not be a factor today.

As we approached runway 18C, the tower controller cleared us to “Line up and wait” but I was not ready for takeoff.  Given the visibility, I didn’t want to be “heads down” while taxiing around a relatively unfamiliar airport and had gotten behind on the Taxi and Before Takeoff checklists.  I still needed to compare our final closeout weight and balance information against the planned numbers and had a few checklist items to complete before we would be ready to depart.  Once I was finished, I advised the tower that we were ready and we promptly received clearance for takeoff.  “Fly runway heading, Runway 18C…cleared for takeoff.”

The Captain had elected to fly the leg, which most likely meant I would be running the checklists and solving problems as they arose.  We accelerated down the runway, rotated and climbed into the cloud filled night sky.  We were almost instantly inside the clouds with two white beams of light emanating from each wing tip illuminating the dense cloud cover ahead.

The departure controller turned us to the west, and as we climbed through 10,000 feet, handed us off to Memphis Center.  Soon thereafter we were cleared on course direct to the Little Rock VOR where we would pick up the arrival into Dallas. 

As I mentioned before, one thing that set this flight off as different from most others was that I knew something bad was coming.  Again, I didn’t know what or when, but I knew it was coming.  I scanned the engine instruments and the overhead panel with much more frequency than normal in hopes of catching some sign of what was to come.  Nothing seemed out of place.  Everything was working perfectly.

We leveled off at FL 320 (32,000 ft.) and completed the Cruise checklist, sent a position report to our company dispatcher (who was still seated 2 feet behind me) and started planning our descent and arrival into Dallas.  The weather in Dallas was worse than it was in Memphis with RVR 800/600/400 (touchdown, mid, rollout) reported on runway 17C.  Visibility this low would necessitate a CAT III approach and an autopilot flown landing known as an autoland.

The MD80, as old as it is, does a respectable job landing itself on the centerline and coming to a complete stop without any assistance from the pilot except the manual inputs it took to set up the procedure.  300 – 200 – 100 – the jet announces 50 feet as the throttles retard on their own and the control yoke pulls back to raise the nose.  40 – 30 – 20 – 10 – and the jet settles onto the runway.  The landing isn’t always the type that encourages the pilot to stand in the doorway and take bows, but all things considered, especially the jet’s 1960’s heritage, it’s impressive to watch.

Still level at FL 320, I had just requested an ATIS (Automatic Terminal Information System) for Dallas and sent a request for gate arrival and connecting gate information when a yellow “CAUTION” light illuminated on the glare shield.  “Here we go” I thought.  I looked up to see the “L CSD OIL PRESS LOW” light illuminated on the anunciator panel.  No other light accompanied this lone warning light.  I was surprised by that and expected the left generator to fail at any moment.  At the Captain’s command, I retrieved my QRH (Quick Reference Handbook) and found the appropriate checklist.  About two minutes later as I was working my way through the checklist, the “CAUTION” light again caught my attention.  I looked up and noticed that the “L GEN OFF” light had also illuminated. 

With the Captain’s consent, I reached for the APU start switch and hoped that the good ole Auxiliary Power Unit would spool up in this cold thin air.  I was a little surprised to see it come to life and even more surprised to see a blue power available light shortly thereafter.  This was shaping up to be much easier than I expected.

A little explanation may be in order here…Each engine-driven generator is driven through a constant-speed drive known as a CSD.  The CSD converts the variable speed output of the engine driven generator to a constant speed.  The output of the generator is variable because it is connected to the engine and changes speed as the speed of the engine is adjusted by the pilot.  The CSD is lubricated by oil and is monitored by a fault protection system in each generator control circuit that automatically removes the generator from its bus and de-energize the generator in the event of certain malfunctions.

We continued with the checklist and disconnected the CSD to prevent any damage to the engine or generator.

Checklist complete. 

The question at this point, and another gotcha, was the legality of flying a CAT III approach and an autoland with a compromised electrical system.  I looked up a chart in the Aircraft Flight Manual that listed all equipment required to fly the approach.  Under electrical system, the chart simply read “Normal**” Hmm…what do the two stars mean?  At the bottom of the page in small print it read ”**APU may be used in lieu of one engine generator.”  So in our case, a disconnected CSD and an inoperative engine driven generator was normal as long as the APU generator was operating normally.

The rest was simple and quite routine.  I checked and rechecked the book a few times just to make sure I was reading it correctly since illegally flying a CAT III approach would most definitely end the ride with a pink slip, but we were in fact legal.

After we landed, we were given taxi instructions to the terminal where we shut down and completed the Parking checklist.  “Nice job gentlemen, ride’s over.”  Those were nice words to hear…except it wasn’t really over.

The LOFT part of the checkride is what we call a “jeopardy” ride.  Although it rarely happens, you can fail the ride.  If you don’t pass, you come back for more training and do it all over again on another day.  The rest of the ride would be “train to proficiency.”  During a “train to proficiency” event, you are permitted to re-attempt a maneuver if you screw it up the first time.  The only limiting factor is that there are a number of items that must be demonstrated and if you run out of time because you did everything twice, then you won’t be able to finish in the allotted time and another day of training would be in order. 

...if you don't think you have time to do it right the first time, what makes you think you have time to do it twice?

After a short break in the “iron kitchen” we climbed back into the simulator and took a beating from the check-airman.  Wind shear on takeoff…twice.  Wind shear during the landing phase…twice.  Twice, not because we didn’t do it right the first time, but because the instructor wanted us to see the outcome of using different techniques for escape.  High and low speed aborts…engine failures at critical speeds…several engine fires...a cargo fire…several approaches…unusual attitude recovery...RNAV procedures and some raw data time in the pattern. 

Raw data?  That means we flew around in the clouds with no autopilot and no flight director.  Sounds simple enough, but if you rely too much on the autopilot as many do, it can be surprisingly difficult.  We flew around for a while getting climbs, descents and turns then flew a raw data ILS to minimums with a direct crosswind at 18 knots gusting to 23.  It wasn’t the prettiest approach I’d ever flown, but I was pleased to have kept everything within the required standards.

Day four of my training consisted of a two hour oral exam and pre-flight brief followed by four hours in the simulator.  I walked away feeling refreshed and confident in my skills.  There’s nothing quite like the feeling a pilot has while walking away from the school house after a successful checkride.  Back to guilt free TV, good books and long walks on layovers. 

I’ll be back for more in another nine months.

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Questions and Answers

I’ve been getting a number of questions from readers lately…some general in nature and some pretty specific.  I thought it might be fun to post some of the questions and my responses to them.  If you would like to submit a question, there’s a button in my profile you can use to send me an email.  If I post your question, all personal and identifying details will be removed.

The following questions are from a guy flying an MD80 simulator on his home pc:

Question: Ground Power (GPU) vs. APU power. Which one do you use more often?  It is my thought that at some point before the flight, you need to use the APU for bleed air supply to start the engines.  Do you just leave the APU on all the time on the ground or do you turn it on just before engine start?

Answer:  Pre-Conditioned Air (PCA) is usually available to heat and cool the aircraft on the ground, so we typically use ground power and PCA until about 15 minutes before departure.  Sometimes PCA is unavailable or the unit does not provide a sufficient amount of air to heat or cool the jet, in which case we leave the APU running the whole time we're on the ground. At about 15 minutes prior to departure, we start the APU to provide the air we need to start the engines.  If the APU is inop, a start cart is used to provide the air we need to start the engines.  The start cart is also capable of providing the air needed to run the air conditioning system if both PCA and the APU are inop or unavailable.  The APU burns approximately 200 pounds of fuel per hour, so it is economical to leave it off as long as possible.

Question:  What kind of reserve fuel do you plan on. When flying in the sim in the MD82 I try to land with no less than 7k lbs of fuel. What do you guys shoot for in the real world?

Answer:  Generally, I like to land with at least 6,000 pounds.  We are regularly planned to arrive with around 5.8 on a good day with no expected delays, but most Captains will rarely accept less than 6.  The legal minimum for an MD80 is about 4.3 (45 minutes of fuel), which in my opinion is nuts.  Our manual does not even allow a go-around with less than 5k, so why on earth would I accept any less.  The problem with accepting less than about 6k is that if something goes wrong at the last minute, you may not have the fuel to divert to even a close airport.  A diversion to an airport less than 20 miles away could easily consume 2000 pounds of fuel.  Also, the flight plan does not consider many of the fuel sucking variables that we encounter every day.  All that said, 6k is about as low as I like to go…thankfully most of the Captains I fly with agree.

Question:  I sometimes use a simulator program called topcat which produces Vspeeds and t/o and landing data for fs. Do you use a real world software program to determine these or do you use paper charts in reference to OAT and weight?

Answer:  We get two things from dispatch before our flight...a Flight Plan and a Departure Plan.  The Flight Plan has all the en-route info we need and the Departure Plan tells us everything we need to takeoff.  The Departure Plan provides settings for flaps, CG, trim, power and V speeds and is good for the planned departure weight plus 2,000 pounds and planned temperature plus 2 degrees.  If we close out 2,001 pounds over the planned weight or if the actual temperature is 3 degrees above or below plan, then we must get new numbers.  After we push away from the gate, we get a “closeout” over the ACARS that provides actual weight, CG and trim settings for takeoff.  If, for some reason, we are required to get new takeoff data or the Departure Plan does not provide data for the runway in use, we can get new data over the ACARS while we taxi to the runway.

Question:  I am kind of confused about the landing speeds. I’ll get a Vapp and a Vref speed and normally shoot to be at Vapp speed at 1000ft then slow to Vref at 300 feet? How do the pros do it?

Answer:  (Thanks for the “pros” comment by the way).  We bug the min maneuver speeds for each flap configuration and then bug approach speed.  Specifically, the top bug is the minimum speed to fly with a clean wing…flaps and slats retracted.  The bottom bug is Vref.  That way, as you begin to slow for the approach, you know as you approach a bug on the airspeed indicator that you need more flaps.  It is always a good idea to extend flaps closer to the min maneuver speed than the max speed for the flap setting to reduce stress on the flaps and the airframe. 

I generally cross the final approach fix between 170 and 180 knots with flaps set to 11 degrees...anything faster than 180 and you will almost surely have trouble being configured in time to be stabilized at 1000 feet.  If you are not stabilized on speed, on glide path with the engines stabilized at approach thrust by 1000 feet above touchdown, a go-around is required.  At about 1800 feet above touchdown elevation, I reduce the throttles to idle, lower the flaps to 15 and drop the gear.  As soon as the gear is down I lower the flaps to 28 then flaps 40 as we slow.  I then push the throttles up to around 1.3 EPR and stabilize at about VREF plus 10 knots.  This all allows me to be fully configured by the 1000 foot requirement.  I then fly VREF plus 10 knots until the flare.

I hope you find this information helpful.  Good luck with your sim.

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Recurrent Training

I woke up this morning with an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach…a familiar uneasiness that originates in my gut, creeps its way up to my head and back down to the tip of my toes. Ah yes, recurrent training starts later today. I have often said that training, especially in the simulator, would be a lot more fun if my certificate wasn’t on the line every time I stepped foot on the “school house” grounds. As for me and all the other pilots at my airline, the trek to the school house occurs every 9 months, at which time we are poked, prodded, tested and trained to handle any and every situation, normal and otherwise.

Depending on the airline, recurrent training typically occurs at 6, 9 or 12 month intervals. I’ve done all three at two different companies and must admit that I’m partial to the 12 month program only because it provides the most amount of time between the stress of evaluation, ruined layovers spent at cramped hotel room desks and countless nights trying to study at home with young children in the house. I flew for a regional airline that utilized a 6 month program…the worst of the three options in my opinion, and not for the reason you might think. We would spend one day in the classroom and then move on to the simulator on day two where we got absolutely no warm-up or practice time before being evaluated. Simulators have come a long way in the last 50 years, but they still don’t fly exactly like the real thing, and a little time to acclimate is time well spent. The 12 month program was in favor at my current airline when I was hired, but later switched to a 9 month cycle. We either get one or two days of ground school followed by two days in the sim…one day for practice and one day to evaluate our skills.

Utilizing the 9 month cycle, a pilot receives an “R9” followed 9 months later by an “R18.” The R9 is a “jeopardy” event. The R18 is not. Keep reading, I’ll explain. If a pilot is unsuccessful at completing any aspect of the simulator training during an R9, then he fails the event and must complete further training and re-evaluation, usually at a later date. A pilot who fails an R9 is removed from flight status until re-training takes place. A record of this is kept in the pilot’s employment records and, surprise, surprise, no-one wants such a thing in their records and the mere threat of such a thing is enough to induce the stomach issues I mentioned earlier.

The R18 on the other hand is a “train to proficiency” event. If a pilot makes a mistake during the R18, he will be re-trained on the spot and given another chance to perform the same maneuver. The only problem is that there are only 4 hours to complete an R18 for two pilots and if you spend too much time on re-training then you can’t get everything finished and must come back at a later date. This rarely happens, but when it does…for the R18…there is no record of the event and no blemish in your file.

A pilot attends two days of classroom instruction during an R9 and the course is shortened for the R18 and only takes one day. During ground school, pilots review systems, performance, FAA regulations, security, flight manuals and what we call “Human Factors” where, for the most part, we learn from other’s mistakes. A highly useful class if you ask me. We also get some time in cabin trainers where we practice opening and closing emergency exits, the use of emergency equipment and putting out fires, something we all do every time we pass through the school house.

Day one in the simulator is usually the same, regardless of whether you are taking the R9 or the R18. Two pilots, a Captain and a First Officer meet for two hours with an instructor for a pre-flight briefing before spending four hours in the simulator, generally splitting the time evenly between the two pilots. Of course, everything we do is done as a crew, so both pilots get a thorough workout for the entire four hours.

The world inside a full motion simulator is an interesting place. Again, it would be lots of fun if there wasn’t so much on the line. You walk into a huge, hangar-like room filled with simulators, which, depending on their age, may have cost as much as the real aircraft it simulates. The sims look like something out of “War of the Worlds”…huge boxes on top of hydraulic legs with retractable draw bridges to allow crews access to their torture chambers.

Once inside, the business end looks just like a real jet. Everything looks, feels and sounds real. Once you are sitting down, strapped in with the overhead lights turned down, visual displays turned up with the sound and motion activated…your body and mind are easily fooled into believing that you’re sitting in the real thing. The back half of the room is all computers and screens from which the instructor can simulate just about anything. One minute you’re in Denver, taking off toward the mountains on a hundred degree day with thunderstorms and wind sheer reports. Two minutes later you could be on final to Santa Anna, landing on a wet 5701 ft. wet runway in poor visibility followed shortly by the mountains around Mexico City, climbing out with an engine on fire. If the instructor doesn’t like the outcome of any scenario, he can restart the event at the push of a button. “Hey guys, lets do that again…here we go.”

The simulator is truly an amazing tool. As expensive as they are, they save incredible amounts of money and provide unparalleled levels of training and the ability to train for every imaginable event. Tomorrow…it’s an R18 for me…I’ll crawl into the sim for my chance to be poked, prodded and tested. Should be fun, but I’ll be glad when it’s over and I can read magazines and watch TV on my layovers again.

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