Golden Argosy Part 4 - Homeward Bound

By Tony Vallillo (4 August 2004)

Increasing age brings with it a number of effects, a handful of which are actually good: things such as wisdom, experience, accumulated knowledge and, of course, in this business, seniority. Seniority is the companion of age, and the two advance in lockstep down the path of a career. Seniority is the factor that allows one to become a Captain, choose the aircraft and routes that one will fly, even the days on which these labors are accomplished! It is the principal determinant of an airline pilot's "quality of life". In my early years, when I had the opposite of seniority, which might perhaps be called "juniority", I would often peruse the monthly bid sheet in a wishful-thinking mode, looking not at the humble domestic trips that I would be bidding for on the 727, but at the 747 transcons that the alpha dogs were enjoying! Like Walter Mitty himself, I had a fantasy life, flying to the coast on the big bird and enjoying the long layovers in the sun! Now, nearly 28 years later, I'm one of the alpha dogs myself, and I get to live the fantasy!

The terminal out the window as we prepare to depart

Neither seniority nor age, however, can make waking up at 2 in the morning tummy time an easy or palatable experience. At 0800 local time the phone explodes into my dreams with a raucous clamor, producing both instant consciousness and near cardiac arrest in the same instant. Alas for the junior birdmen on the seniority list, I survive this wake up call as I have all of the rest! As I stumble to the window and pull aside the blackout curtains, I see that the weather, at least, is beautiful. Should be a great day for flying!

After pushback, awaiting the salute

The crew having assembled one by one in the hotel lobby, we greet the inbound crew as they head, bleary-eyed, toward their rooms. Although they will not have flown along the same route that we will use today, the intel they provide about turbulence and other aeronautical conditions is still valuable, to say nothing of the banter! Ships passing, albeit in the morning instead of the night!

At the airport, we split up, the cabin crew heading to the airplane at the gate, and the cockpit crew to operations. Today's process of flight planning is essentially identical to the previous evening at JFK. The so-called day tracks across the Atlantic are usually either north or south of the previous night's eastbound tracks, to avoid what is often a strong west to east jet stream. Here in Rome we do not have the computer weather graphics that we used back at JFK, so instead we get voluminous printouts from the Italian meteorological service. These products include upper level winds and weather for much of the northern hemisphere, and are, no doubt, reminiscent of the charts that the Clipper pilots received 70 years ago. The major difference is that, while the charts may look the same, the Clipper skipper's charts were the product of some serious crystal ball gazing on the part of fact-starved meteorologists in the '30's. Today's charts are the product of thousands of reports a day from airplanes and balloons all over the world. They are usually very accurate. As for the rare occasions when they are not, that is what the enroute reserve fuel is for!

Next to go

Every pilot has his or her favorite air routes, often chosen with an eye toward the scenery passing underneath. My two favorites are the transcontinental routes in the USA (between the Rockies and the West Coast), and the route from Rome to the States, particularly the portion between Rome and the Irish coast. This latter route has just about every scenic charm there is - mountains, the sea, islands, cities like Paris and London to overfly, and so on. Since a relatively small percentage of time on these international runs is spent over land during daylight hours, it is a treat to have the opportunity to take in some fascinating geography!

The island of Elba

There are, for all practical purposes, two possible routes from Rome to the coast-out points on the Atlantic. The normal route simply retraces our arrival the previous day, proceeding via Elba, Corsica, Nice and central France and thence over southwestern England and central or northern Ireland. The alternate route, used when the tracks lie far to the north, or when Air Traffic Control is on strike in France (a rare but by no means unheard-of occurrence) takes us north over Milan and Frankfurt before turning northwest towards northern Holland and Scotland. This latter route has the advantage of taking us directly over perhaps the most famous part of the Alps, the Bernese Oberland, the home of the notorious Eiger, as well as the beautiful Jungfrau, and close enough to the Matterhorn to see it clearly as well. We are, therefore, never disappointed when, upon arrival at operations, we are greeted with a flight plan for this northern route.

Flying over Corsica

Today, however, both the winds and French Air Traffic Control are in normal mode, and we will fly the standard route, over Nice. This will still put us over the western Alps, the so-called Alpes Maritimes, and within a stone's throw of the tallest mountain in Europe, Mount Blanc. The satellite photos indicate mostly clear skies over the mountains; so there will be some fine sightseeing today. Sadly, out of 7 seats in every row across the fuselage in coach, only two will have a really good view. And it is likely that even these fortunate few will be otherwise occupied when we cross the mountains. Nowadays, the movie is often of greater interest than the scenery. More's the pity.

The route that the dispatcher has offered for my approval is somewhat southerly once again. Of five westbound tracks, we are planned for the last one - track E, which lies farthest to the south. Track E reads as follows: BEDRA, 49N020W, 47N030W, 46N040W, 45N050W, RAFIN. The entire route of flight, as filed with Air Traffic Control and in the format used for entry into the FMC is: ELB5B ELB, UM616 PIGOS, UM733 BRY, UM729 RBT, UL851 LGL, UN941 BEDRA, NAT E RAFIN, N60A KANNI, PLYMM, PLYMM4 JFK. (Once again, the actual waypoint-by-waypoint summary is too long to print here. If you are unable to load the FMC this way, you can still do a fairly effective simulation of the route simply by entering the waypoints above, where the airways change. You'll make it home AOK!) We'll climb initially to FL 300, which is fairly low for a 767. Over Laigle (LGL) we will climb to FL 320, and again at Bedra to FL 340 for the Atlantic crossing. Finally, once across the pond, we will climb to FL 360 or higher, as available altitudes present themselves.

FMC approaching Nice

Several things attract my attention. First of all, there is the potential for some light turbulence at several points during the flight, as we cross the jet stream at something of a right angle. This is borne out by the numeric turbulence indicators at a number of waypoints along the computer flight plan - the machine has the same information that I have on the charts, and it interprets it in much the same way. I'm not certain whether to be flattered by this or not! Second, the computer has chosen an interesting variety of speeds for this flight. Normally, we cruise at a constant Mach number at altitude, and this usually does not change for the entire flight. But today, possibly because of the changing altitudes, the computer starts us out at Mach .82, then slows us down to .80 for the crossing, and finally speeds us up again when we climb higher on the other side of the pond, back to .82 Mach. This higher speed is a bit unusual, since the logic starts with .80 as the standard fuel economy speed, and higher speeds are often an indication that we will be running on the edge of being late. That is not likely to be the case today unless we are held to a slot time leaving Rome, which in point of fact often occurs. The flying time for this plan is 8 hours 52 minutes, against a scheduled time (block to block) of 10 hours 30 minutes, which should leave us plenty of time for a short slot delay. These so-called slot delays are usually the result of traffic bunching up on the Atlantic Tracks -- a bit too much volume in a short time for the system to handle in the non-radar environment. By metering the departures right from the runways, an even flow at the oceanic entry points can be achieved.

Nice and the Cote Azur

Even though we are staying out of the way of the worst headwinds, the flight home is nearly an hour longer than the flight over. The fuel load reflects this reality, with a total release fuel requirement, including all alternate and contingency fuel, of 127,000 lb. When added to the weight of the airplane and the payload, we will weigh nearly 400,000 lb. when we leave the gate, and almost as much on takeoff. (The actual number is 393,000 lb.) This is getting up there in a 767-300, since the maximum takeoff weight is 408,000 lb. And runway 25, the preferred takeoff runway at FCO for this time of day, is not as long as 13R at JFK, being around 10,850 or so feet long. This is nothing to sneeze at, of course, even for an almost fully loaded 767. But we will be a lot closer to the max weight for the runway here than we were at JFK.

These clouds have rocks in them!

Fortunately, it is not the height of the hot season, July or August. Rome can be nearly unbearable in those months, and the more junior pilots tend to get some Rome opportunities then! What has that to do with taking off, you might ask? Well, as I mentioned in part 1, the max weight that can be lofted from a given runway is significantly affected by temperature, for two reasons. First, the higher the temperature, the less dense is the air, and thus the more speed you need to generate a given amount of lift. More speed requires more distance to achieve it. Compounding this situation, the second factor is that the engines don't deliver quite as much thrust at higher temperatures, also due to the less dense air. So on a really hot day, although we would be using at or near the maximum thrust level the engines could produce, that level is less than on a colder day, and the EFFECT is similar to the thrust reduction we took at JFK in the circumstances of a colder evening and a longer runway. It all adds up to a long tour of the pavement! Fortunately, since it is only late spring, and the temperature outside is a mere 75 F instead of over 100 F, we will not have to inspect the entire runway today prior to becoming airborne!

Sometimes only the summits show above the clouds

I gather the paperwork, sign the station copy of the flight plan indicating my agreement with the dispatcher's offerings, and deposit the lot with the FO, who, in addition to all of his other duties, must now serve as my courier! Thus unburdened, I lead us off in the direction of one of international aviation's greatest benefits - the duty free! No doubt you have seen these shops in an airport somewhere, and no doubt you wondered who buys all of those fancy watches, the designer perfumes, and the designer booze. International passengers, that's who! And, on occasion in the right place, international crew members as well. We don't get the full customs exemption allowances when traveling as crew members, no doubt because of a suspicion on the part of the government that we would all find ourselves in the import-export business if given enough latitude! Actually, nothing could be farther from the truth. The bags are heavy enough now, without my adding to their weight by bringing over profitable quantities of exotic goodies. And even without the duty, it would be tough to beat Pier One or Costco prices! No matter; we are stuck with limits on how much we can bring back and, for the overwhelming most part, crew members stick to those limits. I know I always do! It doesn't pay to play fast and loose with the customs service, in any country!

The Bernese Oberland on the alternate route through Switzerland, with the Eiger, Monch and Jungfrau from the south

This trip I have orders from She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed to restock the wine cellar with Italian vintages, and I comply, at a conveniently located duty-free emporium right by the departure gates. In some airports, notably Buenos Aires, the duty-free shopping area is a delightful gauntlet that must be negotiated before getting anywhere near the actual gates. It is awfully tough to run that maze and emerge in the same financial condition you started with!

The Mont Blanc massif, highest in the Alps, from the west

Having seen to the provisioning of our wine cellar, and in the process contributing to the economic prosperity of some Italian vintners, I make my way past the gathering multitudes of New York bound passengers and onto the airplane. This particular bird has recently arrived from New York, and has made the trip without exhibiting any mechanical faults. Our maintenance representative in Rome has performed the required pre-Atlantic inspection and all is in order. The FB has once again inspected the ship from stem to stern and, in addition, seen to the programming of all of the various data into the FMC and the thrust computer. The purser and the flight attendants are again busy readying the galleys and cabin to receive the guests. Outside, the cargo loaders are busy filling the belly compartments with baggage and cargo. This latter is often the difference, these days, between profit and loss on a route, and a healthy cargo load can sometimes produce a profit even with a nearly empty airplane. Cargo airlines exist, of course, like FedEx and UPS, but there is still a market for what might be thought of as the aeronautical version of the railroads' LCL (less than carload). Since there is usually some spare space as well as surplus weight hauling capability, even passenger airlines can do a good cargo business. Today, as is usual on this run, we have around 25,000 lb of combined cargo and baggage.

The northern foothils of the Alpes Maritimes

Once I settle in and make the nest again, I brief the crew on the expected departure. Today, the Elba 5 departure is a fairly straightforward affair, at least from runway 25. We have merely to hold the runway heading until just about crossing the coast, a mile or so off the threshold, and then turn right to intercept the 270 radial of the VOR, which is located on the airport itself. This course leads, after 20 miles or so, to a right turn toward the island of Elba, some distance off to the north. Had we taken off from any other runway, the departure would have been a bit more complex, with several turns and altitude restrictions involved. Our departure speeds will be higher than usual, because of the higher weight. Using flaps 5 once again, the speeds are: V1 - 158, V rotate - 163, V2 - 168. The minimum clean speed will be a whopping 248 knots.

FMC near Paris

Everything battened down, guests aboard, we call for clearance to push. Unlike the USA, where we either get the ATC clearance over the data link, or call for it around 10 minutes before leaving the gate, in most of Europe we must make contact on three or four frequencies sequentially, after all doors are closed, to get ATC clearance, pushback clearance, and engine start clearance. Having never had the opportunity to tour a control tower over here, I have no idea where these various functionaries are located. Possibly they are all gathered around the coffee pot in the tower, in which case the multiple frequencies would be rather like gilding the lily. No matter - ours not to reason why, ours but to go and fly!

All clearances in hand, we are underway, right on schedule. (You didn't think, did you, that I was going to be writing about trips that were delayed?!) It is a relatively short taxi from gate T-10 to runway 25, just long enough for the cabin crew to complete the takeoff briefing in two languages. A this time of day (10:35 AM) traffic is not too heavy, and we find ourselves cleared to "lineup and wait" in short order. It is the FO's leg to fly, and after positioning the airplane in the center of the runway, I turn the controls over to him.

Mountain lake

Takeoffs and landings are, to quote Ernie Gann yet again, "as sweetmeats to any copilot". Things have changed little, in that respect, from those days of "Fate is the Hunter". It is entirely my prerogative when, if ever, the other pilots get to fly the jet. I could conceivably hog all of the flying myself, and rumor (along with a lot of cargo compartment graffiti in the 1970's) had it that at least one Captain did just that! That may just be an airline urban myth, and in any event the scofflaw is no doubt long retired and unmourned! But an important part of my overall responsibility is the instruction and seasoning of the copilots who fly with me. Nowadays, especially with Captains flying as FO as is the case today, instruction is not needed. But experience is always valuable and flying is, of course, also fun, so I share the flying 50/50. Sometimes, even beyond 50/50 in the event that the FB is coming due for a leg. The FB position is bid on the assumption that flying every other leg is not going to happen on anything like a regular basis; even so, the FB's must stay current and proficient. That, also, is part of my corporate responsibility as Captain. The payoff for seeing that it is done is self-evident, not least in the event that one or both of my fellow airmen has to take over for real, if I should cease to function.

Rural town near Paris

This somber thought brings to mind the issue of incapacitation. In the USA airline pilots must retire at age 60. This rule went into effect in the late 1950's, as the first jets were coming into service. It was meant to ensure that pilot incapacitation would never become a serious issue in commercial aviation, and it has, over the years, worked extremely well. In the ensuing years there have been only a literal handful of cases where a pilot became incapacitated at the controls, and the rarity of these events speaks volumes about the effectiveness of the rule. Nowadays, though, it has become a matter of considerable controversy, and a small but vocal minority of active pilots has been lobbying for years to extend the retirement age. In Europe this has already been done in some areas. I won't go into the arguments pro or con for flying past age 60- after all, the flight simulation community is not affected by it and we don't need to simulate the airline pilot experience to quite that degree! But since I am well under age 60, my chances for completing this flight in good health are statistically excellent!

The French coast

Cleared for takeoff, the FO pushes the throttles forward and calls for the autothrottle to be engaged. My duties on this takeoff are a bit different than when I am doing the flying. I will "guard" the throttles and controls, because I still have the responsibility to discontinue the takeoff, should that become necessary. Aside from that executive function, I will be taking care of the pilot-not-flying duties -- the callouts and such.

At nearly 400,000 lbs, the jet accelerates a bit more slowly, and indeed the tour of the runway is extensive. Faster and faster we go, then faster again until finally, with the last 3,000 feet of the runway getting intimate with us out the window, I call "V1" and then "Rotate!" Up comes the nose and in another second we are airborne. According to the data we could still stop if we aborted just below that V1 speed, yet it often seems as if there couldn't possibly be enough real estate to do it from that point! But don't be fooled; a look at the certification films will confirm it - these things can stop in a hurry if they have to. Just don't count on using the airplane again until after they change all the brakes and tires!

FMC near Jersey

A heavy airplane most often handles better, more smoothly, than a light one. The extra weight adds inertia and thus stability, while the hydraulic controls have no difficulty turning it or changing pitch attitude. The FO makes the first turn with a velvet smoothness - here is an airman of my own school! Small wonder, though, since his experience is nearly the equal of mine, at least on this airplane, which he flew for years as FO prior to his upgrade to Captain. We climb at V2+15 knots until we are 1500 feet above the sea, at which point we reduce thrust to climb power and continue up to 3000 feet. There, we accelerate and retract the flaps in stages, as speed increases. This is the standard European noise abatement climb profile. I have no idea if it is more effective than our stateside profile, which has us commencing flap retraction at 1000 feet in most places. Certainly a light airplane would boom up to 3000 feet in a big hurry at V2 +15 and climb power. As heavy as we are it takes a little longer, but the 767 is a powerful airplane even at max weight, and before long we are clean and away, climbing at 250 knots. In short order, departure control frees us of this restriction, and we take advantage of the freedom to accelerate to best climb speed, around 330 knots at this weight and temperature.

The island of Jersey off the Normandy coast

From here on out, the route is, as I said, nearly the reverse of the inbound track. Elba and Bastia pass in succession, as we climb over the sunny Mediterranean. There is no doubt about it - this is one beautiful area to be flying over! Rather than talk about it, I'll let you have a look at the highlights of it, via the photos scattered throughout this article.

In the westbound direction, oceanic clearance is obtained by sending a special position report over the data link. This done, our clearance appears in short order. We are cleared via the track, altitude and speed we requested, which happens around 80% of the time. The rest of the time we get a clearance that differs from our original plan. Changes in altitude or speed are no problem, of course, but a change of track must be dealt with carefully. Any incorrect alteration of the route could result in the airplane not flying the exact track it is assigned to fly, and this would lead to the embarrassing and potentially hazardous "Gross Navigation Error".

The Atlantic is rarely ever this smooth for long!

Gross, in this sense, means large, and refers to a deviation from assigned course in excess of a certain number of miles left or right. Over the years there have been a number of such errors on the Atlantic, most often caused by insertion of the wrong waypoints. This used to be more prevalent when waypoints were entered in INS units as long strings of numbers, and when there was no pictorial map display to show a course heading off into the void in an obviously improper direction. Today, automatic data link loading of the FMC's has largely eliminated the waypoint entry problem, but a route change puts the pilot right back in the event chain, since the new route must be entered manually. Careful checking at the time of the route change, coupled with the waypoint checks and plotting procedures that were described earlier, will ensure that the new route is flown correctly. It is effort well spent, since an airline that accumulates more than a tiny number of these gross nav errors can be banished from the organized tracks and forced to fly at uneconomic low altitudes across the pond.

All things in order, we enter the oceanic area and set course for 49N020W. I spend some time gazing at the ocean below, an unusual benefit today since the entire crossing is often made with a solid undercast. The North Atlantic is one of the world's most unsettled oceans, exceeded only by the globe girdling Southern Ocean. Waves as high as 100 feet from trough to crest are by no means unknown on the North Atlantic. There is a tale told of a voyage of the Queen Mary, in the course of which, during a storm, a wave smashed all the bridge windows and hammered the well deck down by nearly 2 inches. The bridge of the Queen Mary is nearly 100 feet above the waterline! On a number of occasions she and her sister the Queen Elizabeth were greeted at the pier in New York by dozens of ambulances waiting to take the injured to local hospitals for follow up treatment! Today, although the waves are not running that high, the whitecaps abound, and I reflect on how lucky I am to be up here and not down there!

British Airways 777 passing 1000 feet above

Ditching, that is to say intentionally landing a conventional airplane in the water, has always been the ultimate last-resort procedure, one that any sane pilot hopes never to invoke. Just about any improvisation that would keep an airplane in the air would be preferable to ditching. Even the old flying boats could not land safely on the open sea - they needed a protected harbor. Our operating manuals have several pages devoted to the problem of a landing at sea, and the optimistic pictures showing the airplane floating peacefully in the water are at least mildly amusing! Ditchings have occasionally been executed over the years, with varying degrees of success. Almost all of these took place during the years of propeller driven airliners - the jets have been remarkably trouble free in this regard. In any event, I cannot swim, so I have no desire to try my hand at it!

We don't often see ships on the Atlantic, as most of the tracks are well north of the shipping lanes. Today is the exception.

Approaching 30 west, my morbid musings on the challenges of a water landing are interrupted by a call on the emergency frequency, one I have rarely ever heard. "Pan, Pan, Pan" is a signal of urgency, indicating that something is amiss requiring immediate action and a change of plan. It turns out that another airplane behind us has just shut down an engine due to loss of oil quantity, and is heading to its alternate, Keflavik. Immediately a number of other pilots respond to the call, asking if they can provide assistance. None is required, and indeed about all that can be offered is a radio relay. A plane with an engine out is pretty much on its own. We can't tie up alongside and transfer passengers! So as the crew handles their problem and begins the roughly 90 minute diversion to Iceland we listen and wish them well. To leave no one in suspense, the diversion was completed without incident.

This sort of undercast is typical of the North Atlantic in all seasons

This happened to be a two-engine airplane, and it is illustrative of the procedure for handling emergencies on the Atlantic. Obviously, any time a two-engine airplane loses an engine, it becomes a one-engine airplane! The next problem might make it a glider, so immediate action is always taken, whether over land or sea, to get the bird on the ground at the nearest safe airport. Over land, there is almost always a choice of airports within a short flying time, and the options for a landing are often varied. Over oceans, however, the choices are limited and often distant. The North Atlantic offers several airports in Ireland and Scotland, Keflavik in Iceland, several fields in southern Greenland, and a number in eastern Canada. The only time a flight would be close to the three hour limit for diversion would be when weather makes a number of these fields unsuitable, which happens a good deal of the time. Alternate weather requirements vary according to the type of instrument approach available, but generally run between 400-800 foot ceiling and 1-2 miles visibility. In this area of the world, especially in winter, airports by the sea often fail to meet these requirements, and so, as we saw on the way over, more distant inland airports must be chosen. No matter, for the choice is usually a simple one - lose an engine and go to the airport you already identified as having the most favorable conditions.

AA 45 enroute from Paris to JFK passes underneath

The diversion often leads across one or more of the tracks, so procedures were developed to allow for climb or descent (and with an engine out it would always be a descent) within the lateral airspace of the track you are flying, so that vertical separation can be achieved. Then and only then would a course be taken up that crosses other tracks. This is what the crew in question is doing right now - descending to an altitude below the track structure, usually FL 280 and below, and then taking up a course direct to KEF. During the hour and a half that it will take to get there, they will coordinate with their company for ground handling and passenger service, to say nothing of maintenance and possibly an airplane to pick up the passengers if the ship in question needs major work.

By the time that we determine the successful outcome of this little adventure, we are approaching 40 west. This is the first time I have ever witnessed an engine-out turnaround on the Atlantic. The record of two engine airplanes across the pond is excellent - diverts like this happen only once or twice a year. When two-engine airliners (initially the B767) first started flying long distances over water there was concern. Superficially, the mathematics of three and four engine equipment is self-evident. But few people actually understand the reason for three or four engines on airplanes. In reality, the main reason why all of the early big propeller airplanes had four engines was that it took four of the biggest engines available at the time to get the thing off the ground! If three or two engines would have done the trick, and if piston engines were as reliable as jet engines later became, that is what the designers would have done. This was true also for the original jet airplanes, even the early wide body jets, until the B-767 came along. By then, engine makers had developed engines that were so powerful that only two were needed; which is really to say that only one was needed -- to get the airplane airborne after an engine failure at V1.

Flight 163 taken from a Gulfstream 1000 feet above us, the author in the left front window!

Engine failures are extremely rare in modern turbine powerplants, and the only known instances of more than one failing on a single flight have all involved either fuel starvation or some kind of environmental interaction like hail or volcanic ash. These factors would affect any airplane, however many engines it had - indeed, the volcanic ash event involved a 747, which lost three of the four engines. Additionally, there have been instances where a destructive engine failure on a four engine airplane has sent shrapnel into the adjacent engine on that side, causing it to fail, a circumstance that is virtually impossible on a twin since there is only one engine on each side. All in all, as I said earlier, the record has been outstanding for twin engine airplanes, and in the future it is likely that four engines will be used only in circumstances where four of the biggest available engines are the minimum required to get airborne, such as the new A380.

Coast of Massachusetts near Plymouth

More frequent are medical diversions, and I myself have had a few of these, including one on the Atlantic a few years back. On that westbound trip we diverted to Gander, in Newfoundland, which was simply a straight-ahead diversion, since we were already passing 50 degrees west when the situation developed. Nowadays, though, airplanes are equipped with enough medical equipment that, given the presence of a medical professional of some kind to use it, we rarely have to divert except for the most severe problems.

Boston's Logan Airport

While pondering the achievements of two engine jets, I notice that we have one creeping up on the right side! The Atlantic tracks are set up with vertical separation of 1000 feet, and modern navigations systems are accurate enough that two planes on the same route often fly exactly above or below one another. This is something new, because the old nav systems, either VOR/DME or INS, had enough variation that a meet usually involved at least 1/4 mile lateral separation on the same airway. Anything closer was mere coincidence.

But these days, photo opportunities abound, especially on the Atlantic, where we are all going in the same direction, and you have time to wait for the right angle or light!

During the day on the Atlantic, the common frequency is alive with calls offering to email a picture to the crew of the subject airplane. A glance at websites like www.airliners.net reveals that even the passengers get into the act, taking some fine air-to-air shots from the cabin windows! Our fellow traveler is another American 767, this one bound from Paris to New York, and due either to a different speed on the flight plan or slightly better winds, it looks like he'll get there 'afore us! We get a number of pictures of him as he trundles by. A little later, a highflying Gulfstream business jet puts us on Candid Camera as he squirts past us at the speed of heat. A week or so later, email brings me the picture that you see here. He was a bit farther away than we were from the Paris flight, so we appear a bit smaller, but you might just be able to make out your humble author grinning in the left side window!

FMC near TRAIT intersection of the PLYMM arrival

Approaching the Canadian coast, we see icebergs in the water below. Of course, icebergs bring thoughts of the most famous and most tragic incident on the North Atlantic. The Titanic lies about two hundred miles south of our 45N050W position, very close to 42N050W. We can see individual icebergs from 34,000 feet, which means they must be huge, probably over 500 feet in height, maybe much more. Small wonder that such as these can sink a ship. Lindbergh himself discovered, on his flight to Paris, that flying right down on the deck in conditions of fog would not be as risk free as one might think, with icebergs like these floating about!

At 50 west radar contact and VHF communications are re-established, and we are cleared direct to Kanni. We are well south of the actual landmass of Newfoundland, but we are familiar with the sight of it from many previous crossings. Most often, we "coast in" around Gander, sometimes further north by Goose Bay, Labrador. The Newfoundland-Labrador area is a desolate one, with few towns and a lot of trees. Lakes are everywhere, carved by the retreating glaciers of the last Ice Age. This is floatplane country, and paved runways are very few and very far between. Snow covers the ground for much of the year, with considerable amounts of it visible even in late May of some years. There is a special beauty to the place that makes me want to fly over it at a lower altitude in a smaller plane someday. Perhaps after retirement!

Boston from 36,000 feet

All of this is out of sight to the north, however, and our only peek at land is a glimpse of the Sable Islands, home to wild horses and, apparently, wild weather, to judge from the number of shipwrecks there, which have given the Islands the sobriquet of the "graveyard of the Atlantic". Aviation, of course, allegedly has its own such area, bounded roughly by the Bahamas, Bermuda and Puerto Rico. Many people ask me if I am troubled when flying in the "Bermuda Triangle". Not at all. Modern airplanes, and communication and navigation systems, make flying safe all around the world, triangles or no. We don't even think of it unless cockpit conversation really ebbs low!

Now in ACARS range, we can acquire the weather and ATIS for JFK. Things are looking great there, and the approach promises a little entertainment, albeit at the cost of a few more minutes flying time. The approach to runways 13L and R at JFK is called the "Canarsie approach", but you won't find that title in the Jepps or the FMC.

Newport, Rhode Island, playground of the gilded age

Look for the VOR Rwy 13L or R and you will have the correct page! This is an unusual approach in that it is, in essence, a combination Instrument and Visual approach. The instrument portion leads not to the runway, but to a very extended (2 mile long or so) string of approach lights, which run along the Belt Parkway on the north shore of Jamaica Bay. When these strobe lights are sighted, the approach is continued visually, with a sweeping right turn along the parkway and onto the final approach to the intended runway. The weather minimums for this approach are a ceiling of 800 feet and visibility of around 2 miles. Technically, it is not classified as a circling approach, which is just as well, for many airlines no longer allow crews to fly circling approaches. (A circling approach is actually a visual maneuver at the end of a straight-in instrument approach to align with a different runway, usually the reciprocal of the approach runway. Done at low altitude, in poor visibility, fully configured for landing, it is not the easiest thing to do in a large jet. In time, GPS will allow approaches of this type to have continuous instrument guidance, perhaps even autopilot operation.) The Canarsie is one of the world's more interesting approaches, especially now that Kai Tak is closed, and along with it the infamous checkerboard approach. Unless they change runways before we arrive, you'll get to see it.

Block Island, a favorite destination in my small plane!

The arrival route passes between Newport and Providence Rhode Island, and thence over Orient point on the northeast tip of Long Island, descending as we go. Soon, we are flying over the expansive strand at Jones' Beach, having passed just north of the Hamptons on the way. Usually, we get vectors from around Jones' Beach to runway 22L, which is the most advantageous from this direction of arrival. But today, winds or noise abatement favors the 13's, and so off shore we go one last time, as we pass south of JFK and are steered toward Sandy Hook, in New Jersey. Now down to around 3000 feet, with all checklists complete and the flight attendants seated, approach control slows us to 180 knots and the FO calls for extension of flaps and slats. A right turn heads us in the direction of Coney Island, which passes just on the left as we approach the Canarsie VOR. At Canarsie we finish extending the gear and flaps and start the final descent. The city of New York passes, in all of its glory, on our left, although I'm a bit busy to do more than have a glance! A few months back, we did this approach with a pilot riding the jump seat, and he was able to take the pictures you see here. Obviously, the working crew is not in a position to engage in scenic photography at this point in the flight!

The tip of Long Island - Montauk Point

The FO follows the Belt Parkway past Aqueduct Race Track and Howard Beach, descending along the vertical path outlined by a special set of VASI lights. The VASI's on the right side of runway 13L are set at an angle so that they are visible on the final approach. In good weather, you pick them up about two miles out. As we make the final turn, I am mindful of a number of things. The final approach area of runway 13L is bordered on every side by large hangars and other buildings, which have the effect of creating interesting wind currents and shifts regardless of the wind direction. I have even seen a south wind, which is from the right on final, apparently rebound off the large hangars on the left side of the runway and result in a sharp left wind for a short distance in the flare, which is almost a 180-degree shift! Things like this keep you on your toes all the way to the ground on this approach.

The Hamptons

But the FO has done a lot of flying here in his own right, and he is also wise to the ways of the winds. He compensates perfectly and is rewarded by a nice landing, one that will earn him some compliments later at the cockpit door. After all the wheels are on the ground, he engages reverse thrust and slows the bird down. I come onto the controls with him at around 60 knots and take over as we slow to turnoff speed. Off the runway, onto the outer taxiway, now called Bravo, and we are on the last leg home.

Ex-Presidents have a great many benefits after they leave office, but ex-chief pilots can expect very little. Not even a decent gate today, as the ACARS printer breaks the news to us that our gate is the one with the longest walk to customs! Oh well, it has happened before and will again! I'll probably get that gate on my retirement flight! Oddly, the very next day after that I would probably be happy to get it! Our ground crew is in place and waiting for us, which is usually, although by no means always, the case. A great many things affect the schedules of the ramp workers, and a delayed departure on another gate might tie up our prospective arrival crew for many minutes. Not so today, though, and I bring the bird in the last few feet to a gentle stop. Chocks in, engines shut down, checklist completed, and the job is done.

Brooklyn and Manhattan on the Canarsie approach

This is perhaps the greatest benefit of a career like this - the sense of closure, of mission accomplished that we get after each trip. When I worked in the flight office, I worked in a world probably similar to yours, with multiple balls in the air at once and very little sense of completion or closure, even when a particular project was finished. Some people thrive on this, I suppose, but I prefer the palpable sense of completion that I get every time I step off the jet.

Wings level on short final to 13L JFK

Someday, of course, that completion will indeed be final, the curtain call for a performance I will never give again. But that day is still over 60 months in the offing! For now, I am more aware every day of the tremendous privilege this job is. Those of us who fly airliners for a living are not supermen or superwomen, but remarkably fortunate human beings, people who have been blessed with the opportunity to earn a living doing something that, while difficult and challenging to be sure, is also the very thing we most want to do. We are here because we very much want to be, and most of us are also mindful that there are a great many dedicated pilots who tried for this brass ring and didn't get to hold onto it, for one reason or another. The standards have always been very high not only because they had to be but because they could be. Many of those who never got hired are just as good at flying as I am. To a degree, I and the rest of the brethren are lucky.

Once off the airplane, we proceed through Immigration and Customs, which is more or less the same for us, entering the USA, as it is for you. I always make it a point to be courteous to every employee at the airport, airline or government. Every one of them has an important job, and is deserving of respect. Again we see the power of the suit of lights. A cheery word from a pilot or flight attendant can sometimes be the high point of a day otherwise spent dealing with not-so-happy passengers.

The employee bus returns me to the parking lot, where begins the occasionally hilarious routine of trying to remember where I parked the car. I have resolved that if I ever forget more than two trips in a row, it will be time to retire early! We have, of course, had an opportunity to listen to the traffic reports on the ADF radio on the way in, so I am often aware of the traffic situation even before I start the car. Today will be no problem, and the arrival time of around 14:00 puts us ahead of rush hour. But not Rush hour! The Maharushi will be on for another half hour or so. Things like that, as well as music or books on CD, help the miles go by.

A little more than two hours later, I pull into my driveway in rural Connecticut. She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed (Yes, I am a Rumpole fan!) greets me warmly and I change out of my uniform and start to unwind. Back to the real world. For the next few days, at least!

Author's note: Next up - Golden Argosy, part 5, Postlude!

Anthony Vallillo
avallillo@charter.net