Search the Community

Golden Argosy Part 1 By Tony Vallillo (1 June 2004) Way back in the late 1960's, Universal Pictures took Arthur Hailey's bestseller "Airport" and made it into one of the better airline motion pictures of all time. The movie is memorable for a number of things, not least being the casting of Dean Martin as the Check Captain and main protagonist, a role that ol' Dino played surprisingly well. But the real main character of the movie turned out to be none other than the Boeing 707 wearing, in this instance, the livery of the fictional Trans Global Airlines. It was operating a flight from "Lincoln International Airport", (a thinly disguised version of O'Hare) to Rome. This was in the latter portion of the era in which airlines, catering to the whims of the imaginative poets in the marketing department, occasionally bestowed names upon their most glamorous flights, and so the flight went by the evocative title of "The Golden Argosy". Screen shot from FlightSim.Com file library. By any name, or even by no name at all, a flight from the USA to Rome is special. Just think of it: Rome, the eternal city, city of the Caesars and the Popes, city of history and romance, and Anita Ekberg forever romping in the Trevi Fountain. One never tires of Rome, no matter how familiar with it you may become. At least not yet, and it's coming up on two years of once a week! In a flying career that started in 1971, I had, until last year, never set foot in Rome, despite having been in and out of Naples and certain other NATO bases in Italy on various occasions through the years. Of course, when I started my career as an airline pilot with American (1977), the company was almost totally domestic in focus, with only a few routes into the Caribbean to add an international flavor to the operation. Deregulation changed all of that, of course, and AA, along with just about every other sizeable airline in the USA, embarked upon an international expansion in the mid 1980's. Yet Rome continued to elude me, even after we began to fly there from Chicago a few years ago. I have, you see, been based in New York for almost all of my career, and I saw no point in commuting. Finally, in the spring of 2003, JFK-Rome was announced, and by that time I had accumulated enough grey hairs to hold a bid on the route. So many grey hairs, in fact, that I was able to bid the inaugural flight, which was only appropriate considering my heritage! This was the layover I had waited my whole career for. One of the regular features of this website is the series of articles about simulated flights from point A to point B. Many of these are surprisingly realistic (considering that the authors have probably never laid hands on the controls of a real jetliner!). They are usually accompanied by screen shots, which have, over the years, become more and more impressive as MSFS has matured. There seemed to be a great deal of interest in realistic depictions of airline operations; and, as Carrie Bradshaw is fond of saying in a certain well-known cable channel sitcom, "I couldn't help but wonder"... Would you like a look at the real thing? So you are hereby invited along on AA flights 166 and 163, the JFK-FCO (Rome) and FCO-JFK services, the modern day Golden Argosies that constitute the source of most of my daily bread these days. You'll even join us on the layover, for a peek at just what makes Rome such a great destination. One thing must be noted for the record: during the course of any flight, certain situations are considered "sterile" and nothing must distract the crew from the duties of the moment. Generally, this sterile period is said to exist any time the airplane is in motion below 10,000 feet. None of these pictures of (or from) the cockpit were taken during a sterile period. Flight 166 leaves JFK in the early evening, at 17:50. That means sign-in time (the reporting time for the flight - one hour prior to gate departure) is 16:50, in operations. But for an airline pilot, the day does not begin then. No, we all commute to work in one fashion or another, some by car and some by air. (This is perhaps the only aspect of being a virtual airline pilot that is better than the real thing!) I am now one of the "bridge and tunnel people", to recall a phrase from the disco era of the late '70's when I used to live in Manhattan. So around two in the afternoon, we'll get the motor running and head out on the highway. A pilot lives by the traffic reports on the radio, and so the two-plus-hour drive is spent listening to news, weather, traffic and, in my case, Rush and Sean! Assuming no major tie-ups on the greater New York interstate highway system, we block in at the employee lot at JFK and catch what bears a striking resemblance to a school bus over to the terminal. I often wonder what I'd have thought if, as a schoolchild on just such a bus, I had any idea I'd still be riding one in my mid 50's! Once settled into operations, it's time for the one really undesirable part of being an airline pilot - revisions! Elrey Jeppesen was one of the real old timers at what became United Airlines, and his little book of notes on the airmail routes he flew turned into a big business. But with all due respect to the old Captain, inserting page after page of tissue paper sheets into a binder that is already bulging and overweight (not unlike its owner!) is a thankless and miserable task indeed. There is talk of an "electronic kitbag" and other space-age paraphernalia in the offing, but it won't be here in time to do me any good! Doppler radar display, typical of the displays in Operations With our manuals up to date, it's time to take a preliminary look at the weather. Actually, I've been taking preliminary looks at the weather for the last two days, courtesy of the Weather Channel website. But that's just to decide how to pack. Now it's time to check for real. We have a nice weather computer in ops that can depict just about anything you want to know about the atmosphere between here and there (and everywhere!). Tonight, there is a small area of rain shower activity just west of Teterboro that appears to be moving east. Hopefully, it won't turn into thunderstorm activity, but we'll keep an eye on it. Enroute, the weather is not too bad, although a change in direction of the Jet Stream over Newfoundland promises a bit of turbulence during the first few hours of the flight. Beyond about 50 degrees west longitude, it will be a tailwind most of the way, although not too terribly strong. Rome will be cloudy in the morning, with clearing around noon, and it should be sunny later in the day. Sounds good! Europe satellite. Flights from the US to Rome are in excess of eight hours, and Federal Regulations specify a third pilot for relief on flights over eight hours. So tonight we have an additional First Officer on the crew. We will each have an opportunity to take a break during the cruise portion of the flight. The union contract specifies that a seat in Business Class, the highest class on the 767-300 at AA, will be set-aside as a crew rest seat. Some of the longer range Boeing 777's have a special bunk room aboard for rest purposes, but the 767's do not fly routes long enough to warrant a bunk (over 12 hours). Right now, though, the FB, as he is known, will assume the duties of the long gone Flight Engineer, and proceed directly to the airplane after our initial briefing. There he will complete a preflight and walk-around inspection and set things up prior to our arrival. We, the First Officer and myself, have other things to keep us busy. Airline flight planning these days is a lot different from the early days of transoceanic flight, when the crew consisted of at least one navigator and a radio operator in addition to the pilots and a flight engineer. This cast of thousands was fully occupied for well over an hour with weather analysis, route selection, takeoff performance calculations, and the actual preparation of the flight plan, including calculating the time and fuel burn between each waypoint. This latter task was performed with a circular slide rule, called by many pilots the "whiz wheel". For reasons no longer apparent, (perhaps a sense of history, or an arcane form of ancestor worship!) we still have such a whiz wheel as part of our kit bag. I can honestly say that in a 27+ year career at AA, I have never used it in anger! I have, however, occasionally taken it out of its case just to see if it still spins! The reason the whiz wheel hibernates in its case these days is that, from about the early 1970's onward, computers have taken over the purely calculational tasks of planning, and dispatchers handle much of the route selection and weather analysis. This is not to say that the pilot does not look carefully at these things; indeed, the last word belongs to me. But by the time I arrive, a thoroughgoing professional dispatcher with a license nearly equivalent to mine (the dispatcher written exam is essentially identical to the ATP written) has already selected a route and planned a flight. On most occasions, I have merely to review, agree with and approve the plan, and the number of times that I have found the plan wanting in one way or another have been few indeed. The dispatchers do a very good job. Tonight the plan our dispatcher has chosen calls for a flight of just under eight hours from takeoff to touchdown. We will proceed from JFK to Yahoo, a point just southeast of Nantucket, and from there more or less parallel to the Canadian coast south of Halifax, to a waypoint called Rafin, about 150 miles south of St. Johns, Newfoundland. From there we will step out across the Atlantic. FL 340 winds aloft chart. Most air routes throughout the world are fixed; that is, they reside in the same geographical place anchored by the same end points defined by ground based radio transmitters (VORs and ADFs) or else defined by waypoint coordinates of latitude and longitude. They are thus like highways in the sky, and when followed they will lead you over the same terrain every time. The North Atlantic, however, is different. Decades ago, in an effort to both increase the amount of traffic that could be handled, and to improve efficiency and economy for all, a program was established whereby the routes across the North Atlantic would be determined twice a day, based largely upon the forecast winds. The traffic across the Atlantic in these latitudes between North America and Europe is very directional. That is to say, in the evening, virtually all of the flights are eastbound, and most leave North America between 16:00 and 23:00, with the real jam occurring between 18:00 and 20:00 Eastern time. During the day, the flow is westbound, with most departures from Europe occurring between 09:00 and 13:00 Europe time. The tracks, known as NATS (North Atlantic Tracks), are determined taking into account the location of the jet stream winds. So for the evening tracks, which are laid out by the oceanic control center at Gander, Newfoundland, the location and orientation is selected to make best use of any tailwinds that exist. If, like tonight, the winds are mostly crosswinds, then the tracks are selected to minimize overall distance. Day tracks (westbound) are put together by the center located at Shannon, Ireland and Prestwick, Scotland (known as Shanwick) and generally strive to avoid the headwinds, thus lying either north or south of the jet stream. The tracks are published twice a day and sent to all operators, such as airlines and the military. There are generally six tracks, each 1 degree of latitude (60 nm) apart, all parallel with the exception of one or two that lie farther to the south, and serve flights from Miami and points south. Our dispatchers let the computer calculate each track and select the most favorable in terms of time and fuel. (Flight simmers can take advantage of a website that has the NAT tracks available each day. There is even a freeware program that plots these tracks onto a nice map to make orientation easier. Check it out at http://www.natroutes.glideslope.de/) Fuel planning is the most important part of the overall flight planning process. It is nice to know how long it will take to get there, but it is imperative to know that you will get THERE, and not to some intermediate point, perhaps in the middle of the ocean, for lack of fuel! When we plan a flight, we attempt to do two things at the same time - first, to ensure that there is enough fuel, and second to minimize the overall usage of fuel for the sake of economy. Like it or not, air transportation is a business, and it must follow the general guidelines of the economics curriculum of Father Guido Sarducci's famous "5 minute University" comedy routine; namely, "you buy something and you sell it for more"! Notwithstanding the number of times since deregulation that it has seemed as though the entire industry had forgotten this simple maxim, it still applies; therefore, we try to avoid wasting expensive resources, fuel among them. So the dispatcher and I look for a balance that results in the lowest cost, a function of both time and fuel, for the complete operation. All other things equal, a shorter trip is a cheaper trip, since the engines burn fuel every minute they run. Yet to speed up, more fuel must be used per hour, and so careful calculations must be made to see if it is worth speeding up (which might use more fuel) to arrive earlier (which might otherwise save some fuel, as well as crew time, which is also money). The computers, of course, solve this problem in the usual computer way - brute force! They calculate every reasonable combination of altitude, speed, and route in a matter of seconds and decide upon the least cost solution. This is then compared to standards such as the overall schedule, and unless it would result in a very late arrival which would compromise passenger connections and convenience, the plan is finalized. Fuel-wise, however, we aren't finished yet! Federal law requires us to incorporate additional fuel for unforeseen circumstances. The simplest requirements apply to all flights, domestic and international, and mandate sufficient fuel aboard to fly to the destination, then to the alternate (if applicable) and finally an additional reserve amount to account for delays at the alternate. This is the absolute minimum fuel required, and rarely if ever does a commercial airliner take off with only these amounts aboard. In normal operations, extra fuel is added for such things as delays or holding at the destination, delays on takeoff, delays enroute, and so on. Internationally, additional reserve fuel is required when flying over water for more than an hour or so. Since our departure time of 17:50 puts us right in the leading edge of JFK's evening rush hour, we must account for an historical average of 30 minutes taxi time before taking off. An enroute reserve equal to 10 percent of the flight time, is also aboard to protect against the possibility of our not getting the optimum altitude we filed for, or for the winds being less favorable than forecast, or for temperatures at altitude being warmer than forecast, all of which can result in an increased fuel burn. Finally, the dispatcher and I have selected Roma Ciampino airport as one alternate, with Genoa as a second, since Ciampino is only about 12 miles from Fiumicino, and will likely be affected by the same weather. Fuel will be aboard to proceed to Genoa, the furthest alternate. This all adds up to 113,500 pounds of fuel, which is our required fuel load for tonight. Added to the airplane, which weighs around 204,000 pounds empty, and tonight's payload of around 49,500 pounds, we get a planned ramp weight of 367,000 pounds, well below the maximum takeoff weight of a Boeing 767-300, which is 408,000 pounds. Once the weight of the paperwork begins to approximate that of the airplane, we gather it all up and head on out to join the FB. The walk from operations to the airplane can be considerable hike, although at JFK it is within the limits of reasonableness. Halfway to the gate, we must clear security. I actually remember the days, up until the mid to late 1960's, when you simply walked onto the airplane, with only a ticket check. Nowadays, and of necessity, security is a gauntlet. Pilots have to go through everything that the passengers go through, with only some "head of the line" privileges to speed us up a little. Many, including some of the brethren, wonder why pilots have to go through all this; after all, the logic goes, they mostly know each other and can vouch for each other. Well, yes and no. An airline like American has over 12,000 pilots (around 10,000 or so still working at the moment) and it is not at all unusual to fly with someone you don't know. And if anyone thought that the uniforms and ID cards were some kind of guarantee, just rent "Catch Me if You Can" from your local video store! Having passed through security, we arrive at the gate. It is here that the reality of this business hits you. The gate area is already full of people, all of whom are eager to go to Rome, and willing to trust us to get them there on time, in comfort, and of course without a scratch. Captain Auggie Keim, an AA old timer featured in Ernie Gann's "Fate is the Hunter", had a simple creed: "If my ass gets there, so do the passengers!" For the most part, he was right. We don't normally spend a lot of time thinking about what is following us around behind the cockpit door. Probably just as well. But here they all are, waiting patiently, some looking up with obvious interest when we make our grand entrance, garbed in the suit of lights, the toreador image sullied only by the wheelie suitcases we all drag around these days! After checking with the gate agent, who has been checking passengers in for the last half hour or so, we board the airplane, which, at this point, is usually in the process of being cleaned. Airliners are staggeringly costly these days, and an investment of this magnitude cannot be allowed to sit idle for long. As the old crop dusters used to say, "you can't make money with the hopper shut!" So our airplane has arrived within the last several hours, most likely from Europe, perhaps even from Rome itself! A small army of cabin cleaners goes to work as soon as the inbound passengers have deplaned, and they are still hard at it when we arrive. You would not believe the mountains of detritus that are removed from an inbound long distance flight! Suffice to say that many large (and I do mean large!) garbage bags are sitting, bulging, on the Jetway. Several more will accumulate before all is done. These cabin cleaners are a real unsung group of heroes at American Airlines. Just in time for our outbound passengers to begin boarding, the cleaners will have this airplane looking like it just came from the Boeing factory! They really do a terrific job, and against some tough time constraints. Which is all the more astonishing when you see what greets them upon their arrival! In addition to the bustle of the cleaners, there are several additional bustles going on! The Cabin crew, tonight numbering eight Flight Attendants under the leadership of a Purser, have been busy since their arrival ten or fifteen minutes ago. Working with the caterers (the third bustle at the moment), they are preparing the galleys: stowing things in the proper places, inventorying the supplies, and getting the coffee brewing! The coffee thing goes back a long way in aviation. The first Stewardesses, all registered nurses prior to WWII, served coffee and, at American, fried chicken box lunches on most of the DC-2 and DC-3 runs, and the practice went back even farther to the Condor sleepers and Ford Tri-motors. So much so that American Airlines was known, in the pre-war era, as the "chicken" airline, a moniker that had nothing to do with courage! But the coffee stayed as a constant link with aviation's origins, long after the chickens had flown the coop! In contrast to the thermos bottles of hot (?) coffee that were loaded onto the early airliners, the coffee is brewed fresh onboard nowadays, and I suppose, if you like such things, it is very good. For me, however, coffee is an emergency procedure! I never developed a taste for the stuff, and prefer to get my caffeine from an infusion of Diet Coke! Legally, I assume command of the entire crew when I board the airplane, and command of the airplane when the door is closed. "Command" has had a long evolution in the airline business, and has its roots in maritime tradition. But the application of maritime tradition to aviation can be traced to one man - Juan Trippe, the legendary president of Pan American Airways. Trippe had a great love of all things nautical, and he was the first to establish marine nomenclatures such as First Officer and Captain. It was only natural on an airline that operated mostly flying boats! In fact, the two highest ranks at Pan Am prior to WWII were "Captain Coastwise", and, the ultimate glory, "Master of Ocean Flying Boats". That last has a nice ring to it, and it is perhaps a shame that we settle today for the simpler title "Captain"! But whatever you call him or her, the pilot who sits in the left seat is the aircraft commander, and is completely responsible for the airplane, crew, passengers and cargo. It is a benevolent despotism, but a despotism just the same. Notwithstanding modern developments in "crew coordination" or "crew resource management", there is still only one man or woman charged with making the important decisions. It is not, nor has it ever been, a committee task. This is all codified in law, and the law states that, although I am charged with operating the flight in accordance with a myriad of regulations and policies, in an emergency requiring immediate action, I can take any action necessary for the safety of the flight, including actions which, in other circumstances, would be grossly illegal. Despotism it may be, but it is not, hopefully, a tyrannical one! There is plenty of room for collegiality on the flight deck, and everyone today tries to operate in as casual an environment as regard for regulations and good conservative operating practices will allow. In my experience, the Captain Bligh's are few and far between. My colleague and I arrive on the flight deck to find that the FB has completed his inspections and has the airplane set up. Tonight, the FB is one with whom I have not previously flown, an unusual but not unknown event. Airline crews form and re-form every month, as bids are run and pilots select the runs they will fly. Sometimes, you fly with the same crew for several months, but this is rare these days, at least at American, and is either a coincidence or the result of relatively senior people specifically bidding to work together. Standardization, therefore, is obviously essential, and it is achieved by training and evaluation. All training for pilots at American Airlines is done at a single location, our Flight Academy just south of the DFW airport in Texas. American was the first airline to set up a single standardized school for the entire pilot corps, back in the 1960's. Prior to that time, when most training was done in airplanes and not simulators, a great deal of the training went on at the individual crew bases, under the supervision of the chief pilots. Today, though, I trot down to Texas every nine months for a week or so of ground school and simulator training. Our pilot corps, typical of the pilot groups of all of the major airlines, is a well-seasoned group of professionals, especially these days. The First Officer, for example, has served as a Captain on domestic flights for several years. The downsizing after the 2001 terrorist attacks has cost him his Captaincy, at least for the moment. Both he and the FB are also Captain qualified on this Boeing 767, although neither hold a Captain bid. The qualification is required by the FAA on flights that need a relief pilot - there must always be at least one person on duty on the flight deck who holds a license to command. Both the FO and the FB had years of flying experience before they came to American. All of us spent years, either in the military, or in the various levels of general aviation, acquiring and honing the skills and experience needed to meet the hiring standards of the airline industry. These standards have always been very high, and for one reason -- they can be. There have always been more people who want the airline pilot job than there are airline pilot jobs. This, caused in part by the generally prevalent supply of ex-military pilots, has ensured that the nation's airlines have always been staffed by highly experienced crews. It is a serendipity that has benefited everyone. The Nest. Once within the cockpit, it is time to get to work! Off comes the jacket and hat, and the kit bag and suitcase are stowed. After settling into the left seat, I spend a minute or so adjusting it to my liking. Boeing builds a good seat, although the very latest 767's have a harder cushion that takes some getting used to. The seat adjusts in a variety of directions, and for some perverse reason, the little holes that the pins pop into to lock position always seem to be a few millimeters too close or too far for my preference! C'est la vie! After the seat is adjusted, the process of "building a nest" begins. A great many charts, approach plates, taxi diagrams and the like must be out and readily available once we get going, and an organized pilot plans ahead, arranging these in a convenient location and a sequential order. The most important thing now is the loading and checking of the flight plan in the Flight Management Computer. When the Boeing 767 was introduced, these computers were a brand new concept, and state of the art, as far as the hardware was concerned. Today they are still state of the art, circa 1982. That is to say, around the Intel 286 level of processor. Even so, they still do the job; just like that old 286 would, with software written for it! Those of you who use Wilco's 767 Pilot in Command, as I do at home, are already familiar with the loading and use of the FMC. The major improvement over the loading of the old Inertial Navigation Systems is the ability to enter waypoints and navaids by name, rather than the more error-prone method of typing in the coordinates. Additionally, the route may be entered by airways, rather than entering each waypoint separately. Nowadays, the entire route and all of the performance numbers can be sent to the FMC over the ACARS, an Airinc data link radio system. No matter how it gets into the computer, the route and all of the performance data must be carefully checked. We compare each waypoint in the computer to each waypoint on the flight plan, and the airway routing in the computer to the route filed with the FAA. It is a drill, pure and simple, but embarrassing errors have occurred when the drill was ignored! Tonight the route portion of the FMC looks like this: * Hapie Three -Yahoo * Direct -Vitol * N21C -Jarom * Direct -Bobtu * Direct -4450N * Direct -4540N * Direct -4730N * Direct -4820N * Direct -4815N * Direct -Etiki * Direct -Reghi * UN480 -Kolek * UN470 -CGC * UN460 -Fouco * UT187 -Lerga * UM728 -BTA * UL146 -GRO * L153 -TAQ * ILS16R TAQ Transition (If you want to fly this yourself in MSFS, and you don't have the ability to input all of the flight plan by airways, you can either use a high altitude chart for Europe to get all the waypoints along the airways, or you can cheat and use only the significant points that define the airway changes, as indicated above. After all, you aren't actually dealing with ATC!) We'll start off at FL 350, which we will maintain for the Atlantic crossing, climbing to FL 370 once across, after we get somewhat lighter from the fuel burn. The plan calls for cruising at Mach .80 the entire way, which happens to be the typical best economy speed for a 767-300 under most conditions. For the takeoff, planned for runway 13R at JFK, the numbers show: Flaps 5 V1 153 Vr 157 V2 164 Once all of this is entered and checked in the computers, I brief the crew on the plan for takeoff, including the runway, flap setting, departure to be flown (in this case the Hapie 3 departure from JFK with the Yahoo transition), altitude for level off, and the procedure and plan for an engine failure during or immediately after takeoff, including the runway and approach by which we will return to the airport if necessary. All of this is required by company policy and we are now all aware of what will happen during the first, and most critical, few minutes of the flight. Briefing accomplished, I call for the first of many checklists that we will run tonight. Checklists are an age-old tradition in aviation, and it is hardly possible to remember a time when they were not used. Certainly one would have to go back to the wartime years at least, but there was indeed a time, even in the airlines, when the pilot's memory was all that ensured that every switch, knob and lever was in the correct position. Since embarrassing and even tragic things happened when memory failed, as it often did and still does, the written litany was developed and mandated, no doubt to the chagrin of at least a few of the old timers! Today's airman, however, has been using checklists since his or her first introductory flight as a student pilot. To go without the checklist today would be unthinkable! If everything has gone according to Hoyle, we have 5 or so minutes left until departure time. Departure time is the time the airplane first moves, not the time it takes off. This has been a source of confusion and even consternation for some passengers, who think that "padding" the schedule to account for the inevitable delays from first movement to actual takeoff is somehow cheating! Of course, nothing could be farther from the truth. Any scheduled transportation system has systemic delays that are a result of more than one person wanting to use the system. Accounting for the probable delays when they are predictable is nothing more than plain old honesty. The gate agent checks with us one final time to ensure that all is in readiness, then proceeds to close the door. My speaker crackles to life, as the ground-man makes his presence known and calls for release of the brakes. This action on our part triggers the ACARS unit to transmit an "Out" time, and we are officially on the clock. Most laymen probably know that pilots and flight attendants are paid by the hour, but they likely think it is on the basis of hours on duty. It is not. Our pay has always been calculated on the basis of block-to-block hours. Everything that has happened up to this moment, from arrival at the employee parking lot onward, has been gratis! (In actuality, however, the hourly pay rates do take into account the value of the time worked when not in motion. And that time can be considerable, especially on multi-leg trips with long sit-arounds between flights.) Brakes released we get clearance from company ramp control for pushback. The practice of pushing airplanes with tugs became common in the late 1960's, when the search for space on the ramp led to airplanes heading directly at the building for parking rather than parking parallel to it and simply turning away on taxi-out. Smaller planes can actually back up under their own reverse thrust, but large engines like the GE CF-6's on the 767 would create too much blast and subject themselves to Foreign Object Damage. Slowly we trundle backwards into the "alley", as the ramp between concourses is always called. We have departed from gate 8 in terminal 8, the original American Airlines building at JFK. (You may remember the large stained-glass window that covers the entire front of this building, said to be the largest stained glass window in the world.) Once we get placed in the center of the alley, the ground-man clears us for engine start. Starting a jet engine is simplicity itself compared to starting a big radial recip. One switch (on the 767, a button on some other types) opens a start valve, which allows high-pressure air from the Auxiliary Power Unit (or a high pressure air cart) to spin the starter motor. This motor in turn spins the spool that carries the compressor and turbine blades, thus creating a flow of air through the engine core. Once the high-pressure spool (N2) speed is above a certain percentage, fuel and ignition are added to the mixture by the operation of a fuel cutoff switch. With fuel, air and a spark, ignition cannot be far behind, and we watch the EGT gauge for evidence of light off. This is not long in coming, and within a minute, the engine has accelerated to idle RPM, and the start cycle is complete. Once more, with feeling, for the right engine, and we are ready to bid the ground-man a fond farewell -- he wastes no time in unhooking and delivering a smart salute before getting out of the way! From now until we tie up at the gate at Rome, our every movement will be at the pleasure of Air Traffic Control. Ground control clears us to taxi to Runway 13R, via taxiway Bravo to November to Papa. I nudge the throttles forward a bit, and the beast moves under its own power. A 767-300 loaded to around 370,000 lbs will often start rolling on its own if the ramp is not sloped upward. Oddly, the smaller sibling, the 757, seems to have square wheels, even at relatively light weights, and needs frequent blasts of thrust to keep it rolling. JFK at around 18:00 is alive with aircraft and vehicles moving in every direction, and so a high degree of vigilance is in order. We give way to a 767 just in from who-knows-where, and turn left onto the outer taxiway, now known as Bravo. Around 10 years ago, the FAA moved to standardize the taxiway nomenclature around the country, and we lost the old, more descriptive, designations of Inner and Outer. O'Hare lost a good deal more - The Wedge, Cargo, Lakeshore Drive, Old and New Scenics, Wolf road; just about every taxiway at O'Hare had a name! The names were a little tough to get used to, but once you got the hand of it, it was way better and more descriptive than Yankee or Lima. You just never forgot where the Wedge was! The rain shower on radar, in max mode. Doppler indications (purple areas) are absent. By now, that rain shower that started out at Teterboro has moved overhead LGA. We can see the clouds just to the north. It still doesn't look like a serious threat; certainly not a severe thunderstorm, for example, but I decide to turn on the radar and check it out. The radar picture shows the rain area, the display changing as we switch from max mode, the most intense, to calibrated gain. We have a Doppler turbulence function in this radar, and it is not making itself known at the moment, indicating that the returns are most likely just rain. But to get a better feel for it, I take advantage of a unique fact about the New York area; namely, that EWR, LGA and JFK are in some ways just one huge airport without connecting taxiways! So, we listen to the tower frequency at LGA to see if the rain is wreaking any havoc on operations over there. It is not. So it is unlikely that we will experience any microburst or windshear problems in our takeoff. Didn't cost anything to check it out, though. With about five airplanes ahead of us in the line, we complete all of the pre-takeoff checklists. This runway is one of the simpler departures at JFK - just fly an assigned heading, which usually involves a turn of only 20 or 30 degrees to the right. On the reciprocal runway, 31L, you have to turn all the way toward Canarsie, and then turn another 70 or so degrees to the left, while retracting the flaps and speeding up. No problem, really, but a lot of maneuvering. 13R is much more straightforward. Takeoffs in transport category jet airplanes are planned carefully around a worst-case scenario - the loss of an engine at the critical point, just prior to rotation. By law, every takeoff must be planned so that if an engine failure occurs, the airplane can, depending upon speed, either stop on the runway or become airborne and achieve 35 feet of height over the runway end. This performance edge is achieved by limiting the weight of the airplane to a maximum level, determined by extensive testing before the airplane is certified. The weight, of course, is then essentially a function of the runway length, any obstacles beyond the end of the runway, and any contamination on the runway itself that would either retard acceleration or impede stopping, such as ice or snow. Runway 13R is one of the longest civil runways in the world; at over 14,000 feet in length, it is a legacy of the needs of the original Boeing 707's, which were by no means stellar performers on takeoff. Twin-engine jets are much more sprightly, even on just one engine, and so tonight we have a generous surplus of runway at our disposal. Would that it were always so! Liftoff! He's heading for Rome too, and he'll get there before us. Cleared into position to hold, we run the final checklist and check that the final approach is clear. JFK usually lands on 13L when using 13R for takeoff, but Delta and a few other airlines with terminal buildings on this side of the airport often prefer to land on the left side, saving several miles of taxiing. With the airplane ahead of us safely up and away, we hear "American 166 Heavy, cleared for takeoff 13R" and a wind report. We zero the ship's clock, the last preflight checklist item, and I push the throttles forward slowly. We're off to the races! Authors note: To be continued in Golden Argosy, part II, the flight to Rome! Anthony Vallillo

Golden Argosy II By Tony Vallillo (17 May 2005) It's spring again, and an old pilot's fancy turns to...Rome! JFK-FCO is, for us, a seasonal route - we only fly it from April through October. From November until March I must seek out other pleasures. Fortunately, these are many and varied, and so I find myself flying to Paris, the Caribbean, and Buenos Aires in the "off season"! But tonight I'm back on the "Golden Argosy" once again! And this time there is a new twist. I'm going to have a Wingman - a virtual wingman, to be sure, but a wingman nonetheless! I'm sure that many of you have been "shadowing" us in real time over the years, but at least to my knowledge, this will be the first time that it will be done with knowledge aforethought, and coordination between the two pilots, real and virtual! The idea originated in some of the feedback from the original Golden Argosy series. Why not have a virtual pilot fly the exact same flight plan, at the same time, using the same environmental conditions that I will be encountering? Why not indeed? It so happened that Chuck Gehman, who has been flying the 767 for some time now by way of PIC and Level-D, volunteered to do the virtual flying, thus condemning himself to a very long Sunday night! Just how long would become apparent later! We decided that I would call Chuck shortly before we departed and share a few unclassified details about the route, fuel load, weights, and the suchlike, so that the virtual 767 would match the real one as closely as possible. Real world weather would be available via the Internet, as would the NAT tracks for the evening. Chuck would plug all of this into his Level-D Boeing, and await clearance for pushback along with us. Things went exactly according to plan until the day before the trip, when Flight Standards (the part of our flight department responsible for training and qualifications) called and informed me that I would be having the next three days off! Seems as though an F/O needed a route qualification and the first Rome trip of the season fit the bill. I was of two minds about this development, since I had bid this schedule specifically to fly this opening day trip, as I have done for both previous seasons that we flew JFK to Rome. (It seems only fitting that the Captain on this first flight to Italy be -- how shall I phrase this delicately -- of Italian descent!) So although I usually don't object too strenuously when offered a few extra days off (with pay, of course!) I was at least a little miffed that my annual San Gennaro fest had been purloined! On Sunday morning, however, the call came that I was back on the trip. And, for the record, the rumors that I made the check airman "an offer he couldn't refuse" are completely false! In any event, our virtual formation flight was back on again. A portion of the flight plan. The drive to the airport went smoothly, and shortly after I arrived in operations I called Chuck for the first part of the briefing. The route was similar to the original route mentioned in the articles, differing only in the Atlantic track. The filed route was as follows: Hapie 3 YAHOO, dct TUSKY, N91B CYMON, NAT Z GIPER, UN511 TAKAS, UN490 TERPO, UM616 LERGA, UM728 BTA, UL146 ELB, dct GRO, UL153 TAQ Initial level off was to be FL 350, with a climb to FL 370 after BODNO, and eventually a climb to FL 410 at KOLON. Speed was filed as M.80 for the entire flight. The Zero Fuel weight was 255,000 lbs, and the dispatch fuel was 99,100 lbs, for a takeoff weight of 354,000 lb. Only 10 seats were unoccupied, all in coach, a good load for the first flight. Center of gravity worked out to 29.6 percent. Chuck loaded all of this into his virtual Boeing, along with the weather, which at JFK was actually 260/18kt with 2900 scattered, 3600 broken and 5500 overcast, temperature 6 Celsius. The 31's were in use, landing on the right and departing on the left. We expected the Canarsie climb. Our carefully laid plans began to go awry when we arrived at the airplane. The FB (the second copilot) had discovered a problem with the electrical system and the airplane was taken out of service. One of the advantages of being at a large airline is that there is usually another airplane somewhere that can be commandeered; and so it was that another 767-300 was discovered lurking about, scheduled to arrive at JFK around 19:30. This would mean, of course, a delay of around 3-4 hours, but it's better than a cancellation. I phoned Chuck when these developments became clear, only to find that he, apparently in possession of a serviceable 767(!), had departed on schedule and was already somewhere beyond Nantucket! Chuck kindly agreed to hit the reset button, thus giving the real airplane a fighting chance in the great Atlantic air race! Actually, Chuck already knew that we had not left the gate. The Internet is a mother lode of information, especially about such things as the comings and goings of airliners! From "ourairline".com and several other sites, including a few that provide direct ATC audio and radar information for the New York area, he was able to gather that we were still tied up at the dock, so to speak. Next in line for takeoff. The white lines are the preceding airplane on the roll, and the thunder from his departure shakes us just a bit, resulting in the slight jiggle in the photo! In due course, the new airplane arrived, was cleaned and fueled, and we were once again ready to cast off. I had given Chuck one final heads-up from the cockpit via cell phone shortly before we left, so he was able to log on to the various sites and actually listen to us talking to ground and tower. We left the gate at 0047Z, and taxied out to runway 31L, which was still the active runway. After a relatively short 25 minutes, we were cleared for takeoff and lifted off at 0112Z. Takeoff: 0112Z The Canarsie climb is so named because, at around 400' AGL you turn left toward the VOR of the same name, located upon a spit of land jutting out from the neighborhood of the same name, a portion of the borough of Brooklyn. The procedure itself calls for a further left turn over the VOR, to track outbound on the 176 radial. Occasionally this is done, but more often Departure Control, as you near Canarsie, gives you a heading toward whatever offshore fix you are filed over, such as Hapie, or Shipp. This is the case tonight; and, in fact, we are cleared direct to Yahoo, for which we must turn almost 180 degrees to the left, passing close by JFK airport as we do so. We are not too terribly heavy, and so we have the flaps retracted by the time we are halfway through the turn. Steady on our course to Yahoo, we contact Boston Center, which has control of the airspace from mid Long Island eastward. Well before Yahoo, we are cleared direct to CYMON, which is hundreds of miles to the east. This is not exactly typical, and is likely due to our long delay departing JFK - we have now fallen to the rear of the pack, so to speak. When we reach cruise altitude, FL 350, and things settle down a little, I think about my virtual wingman, and wonder how Chuck is doing on his own Argosy! If we still had the Airphones, I could actually call him; but alas, they have gone with the wind, apparently a victim of their high cost. YAHOO - 0138Z 89,400 lb We pass abeam Yahoo at 0138 with 89,400 lbs of fuel still onboard. The newer so-called Pegasus FMC's on later 767's have a key that will automatically insert abeam positions for every bypassed waypoint when you set up a direct routing, but tonight we have the old style FMC, and so we have to use the fix page to create abeam waypoints. It takes a few more keystrokes, and such is the sloth of the modern airman that we gripe about it! Self portrait by moonlight. TUSKY - 0200Z 85,100 lb The air is smooth enough to turn off the seatbelt sign, and in the cabin, the Flight Attendants have started the meal service. This is a fairly senior cabin crew, which is typical of a Rome trip. With as many years of experience as this crew has in the aggregate, there is little that can happen that would fall outside their area of expertise. Nothing beats experience! As we roll along past Moncton and Halifax, our oceanic clearance comes across the ACARS printer. Just what we filed - NAT Z at FL 350 and Mach.80. The enroute alternates are YJT (Stephenville), KEF and SNN. A check of the weather at Gander (YQX) shows why we are not using it - a mile and a quarter visibility in rain and fog! Likewise at Torbay and Goose. CYMON - 0313Z 71,200 lb Approaching CYMON we get another direct clearance, this time to 51N050W. In earlier times, we would have precomputed the estimated time and fuel over the fixes by doing the math right on the flight plan. Nowadays, though, a log comes over the ACARS printer shortly after takeoff, and the computer has done all of the figuring for us. 51N050W - 0338Z 66,700 lb For the oceanic portion of the flight we will be communicating with Gander and Shanwick via HF radio, in a rigid format known as an Airep. Again, the newer FMC's on some of the airplanes are capable of automatically making position reports via Satcom, but tonight we are doing it the old fashioned way! All of this is exactly as it was described in the Golden Argosy articles, to which I now refer you for more details. The second break, mine, begins between 50 and 40 West, so I will get an hour or two of shuteye. 52N040W - 0422Z 59,400 lb 52N030W - 0506Z 51,600 lb At 30 West we change to Shanwick Oceanic Control, still using HF radios. This airplane does have Satcom, but it is not tied into the FMC, and, in fact, is set up more like a telephone. We don't use it for Air Traffic Control communications except as a last resort. There is some occasional light chop, enough to turn on the seat belt sign, but not to be a concern. At this point, fed and sated, all of the passengers who can be asleep are indeed asleep. Only the insomniacs or those incapable of contortion are still conscious. For them, we have the dubious delights of Hollywood on the screens throughout the cabin! The first movies aboard airplanes were actually shown in the '30's, but it was really just a demonstration. All the way to the early '60's conversation and reading served to wile away the long (and they were indeed long!) hours of transoceanic flights on piston engine airplanes. It was not until the jet age that Seattle and Hollywood joined forces. At first, an actual 16mm film was projected onto a single screen in the front of each cabin. A follow-on system, which was still employed on our 707's when I came aboard in 1977, involved a single huge reel of film at the back of the airplane. This reel fed the film through the hat racks up one side and then down the other side, whence it was taken up on another huge reel. In between, the film fed, in sequence, through 20 or so small screens that hung below the hat rack, every three or four rows. Each screen was a self-contained rear projector system, and the movie played in a sequential fashion. If you liked a scene, and were sitting in the back, you could see it time and again on each successive monitor, about 10 seconds apart! These film systems prevailed until the advent of video recording technology in the 1970's. Dawn breaks at last! 51N020W- 0551Z 44,300 lb Approaching DINIM we will re-establish VHF radio contact, this time with Shannon Control in Ireland. From here on out, the waypoints come fast and furious, and we will get a great many direct clearances, especially in France. These direct clearances seldom involve much cutting of corners, but rather allow for the elimination of closely spaced waypoints along a pretty much straight course. We are back in radar contact, of course, and so we no longer make position reports. All we need to do is keep track of the time and fuel over or abeam certain of the waypoints as we pass. We choose these ourselves, based upon time and distance - we want a time and a fuel check about every 20 minutes or so. Thus far, we are a minute ahead (fast) and 500 lb to the good. Fat City! We also get clearance to climb to what is now our optimum altitude, FL 370. NTS - 0724Z 28,500 lb BEBIX - 0744Z 25,600 lb LATAM - 0802Z 23,000 lb KOLON - 0819Z 20,000 lb Ever since LERGA the Alpes Maritimes have been visible out the front window. Mt. Blanc, Europe's highest massif, is also visible a bit farther in the distance. The Mediterranean Sea out the front window reminds us to recheck the Rome weather. The report is not long in coming - good visibility, light southerly winds, and a temperature of 12 degrees C, around 54 in real degrees! Looks to be a terrific day! South of KOLON, which is very close to Nice, ATC instructs us to descend to FL 270. This is well before we would do so on our own, since a clean descent from 370 would only involve around 120 miles distance, and we are much farther from touchdown than that. Nevertheless, to hear is to obey! Passing GRO, having descended to FL190 we hear, on the radio, that which a pilot never wants to hear - holding instructions for aircraft ahead! Sure enough, Approach Control soon issues us our own holding instructions - at the TAQ VOR, as published. Checking the fuel we find that, although we are 400 lb to the good over GRO, the amount onboard, 16,200 lb., will not allow for too much dallying. Ciampino is the alternate, since the weather is good; indeed, weather is apparently not a factor in today's holding. It is more likely that traffic has gotten a bit bunched up heading toward the runways, and they need to sort things out. All too soon we need the sunshades. One turn in holding should be enough, and indeed it is. We are vectored to the final approach, although kept high enough that we will need to do a few "S" turns on final to arrive at a stabilized profile by 1000 feet AGL. Touchdown is smooth at 0911Z, just four minutes later than the original computer estimate on our flight log! The Alpes Maritimes in the distance, with Mont Blan in the center. Taxi-in is short in Rome, since our terminal is close to runway 16R, on which we landed. We tie up at the gate at 0915Z, which is 11:15 local time, exactly four hours later than schedule. Oh well, we're just glad to be here! Fuel on board at engine shutdown is 13,700 lb, only 300 lb lower than the original forecast. Let's see Chuck beat that! The Alps, closer to the Mediterranean. As I look at my watch and see that it is 05:15 Eastern time, I realize to just what lengths people like Chuck are willing to go to experience a realistic simulation of flight. We will discover when next we speak, several days hence, that we blocked in within a few minutes of each other - a remarkable performance indeed. Times and fuels are remarkably similar, as a comparison of the logs shows. Indeed, the only notable difference is our actual location at the end of the drill! My crew and I will now enjoy a layover in Rome, while Chuck will have to simulate that too, perhaps at the local Olive Garden! Ah, but he does not have to deal with the time zone difference or a nine-plus hour flight home tomorrow! Everything has its own unique rewards! "Virtual cockpit" view! This has been, in my experience, a rather novel way to test a product, but the Level-D 767 simulator has passed with flying colors, at least with respect to realistic systems and general performance characteristics. Some day, when I get a new computer, one worthy of such a fine program, I can have a look at the flight dynamics. If they are anything at all like the PIC program, I'm sure they are right on! The flight log, uploaded via ACARS, with my notes of the flight. So therefore, rejoice and be glad, because to get a significantly higher level of realism for the 767 will cost you many million bucks! Looked at in that way, Level D has created a real bargain! Happy Landings! Anthony Vallillo avallillo@charter.net By Chuck Gehman (17 May 2005) First off let me introduce myself. My name is Chuck Gehman and I have been flight simming since FS98. I fly with no less than 10 virtual airlines at the moment and have close to 2500 hours of "virtual" airline experience. Hands down my favorite aircraft has been and continues to be the Boeing 767, on which I have over 600 hours -- mostly with the older Wilco 767 PIC and lately with the incredible Level-D Simulations 767. Not too long ago I emailed the esteemed Captain to thank him for giving the flight sim community his article entitled "The Golden Argosy." We have since struck up an email friendship wherein I constantly belabor him with questions about airline operations, the 767 and a real world ATP's life in general. He has been very kind (and patient) with me in my quest to accumulate all the knowledge I can about those issues. I think in turn I have informed him of what it is like to be a virtual airline pilot, and how most of us strive to make it "as real as it can get". This Captain in my opinion epitomizes what deep down inside all of us would like to be, and I see him as a true professional. I have learned more in a month from him about the "inside" than I probably knew up to that point in 7 to 8 years of flight simming. Now on to our task... We conceived the notion one day of flying a route in flight simulator mirroring its real world counterpart in as many unclassified ways as possible. We doubt if this has actually been done before, wherein the real world pilot shared the information with the virtual pilot before departure and the virtual flight was conducted as closely to the real flight as possible. The Captain called me from his flight ops around 1715 local EDT (it was the first day of daylight savings and that hour 'lost' will come in to play later). In a hurried way (we were both busy at this time) he gave me the flight plan KJFK (Kennedy Intl, NY, NY) to LIRF (Rome-Fiumicino, Rome, Italy). He also quickly gave me the zero fuel weight of the aircraft, the pax weights, cargo weights plus fuel on board. In addition we quickly discussed assumed temps, V-speeds and such. After that we ended the phone call in short order, as I knew he had work to do and I had to get FS running, get the route plugged in (default FS planner), get to the flight deck, which was of course cold and dark. After getting electrical power established I had to really fly inputting the SID for JFK the route including the NAT and the STAR for LIRF I assumed I would be receiving. Trying to be prepared as possible I was probably at the cpu around 1500 that afternoon checking wx and his flight to make sure everything looked to be on time with it. All appeared to be. I knew I was in for a long night Sunday evening, thus I stayed up very late Saturday night and slept in Sunday morning. Thankfully. Had just finished everything up on the deck and checked the time and had all of one minute remaining to double-check everything. Yes I was pressed for time, but got things underway on time and planned to use my extra-long taxi to continue the double-checking. Lets face it, in flight sim I could have pushed and been rolling on the active within 6 minutes, but trying to keep it real I taxied over to 31L and held for about 15 minutes to properly simulate the Captain's real world taxi. About 25 minutes after push we were rolling and following a normal departure and climb -- so I decided it was time to check on the real world flights progress. On flightview.com, much to my chagrin, his flight was still being shown at the gate. Double-checking this with his airline's website I found it to be true that something was not right. Quickly killed the flight and was off to research what was going on. An hour of sim time lost...no big deal...this happens. After verifying via the net that he had indeed not departed I wanted to know why. A quick call to his airline's automated flight status informed me that, due to a problem, there was to be an aircraft change and a gate change. Plus the flight was now tentatively being called for to depart at 8:30 pm local. 2 hours from now. Well not that bad, at least my "hurried" flight prep for this one was now washed out and sometimes when you are taking off you know in the back of the mind whether everything is "right" or not and I never had that feeling during the first attempt. Was considering calling the Captain, and my battle of wills was finally concluded with me snatching the phone and searching for his phone number. Just then the phone rang and guess who? He explained there was a problem during the preflight of the aircraft and I responded with "I know". He seemed somewhat amazed here and I went on to tell him that he was getting a new bird and was now departing at the adjoining gate. I got a kick out of his amazement with this but some simple quick internet research can pull up a lot of info in real time. It turned out to be a blessing in disguise, since now we went over the flight info again and I discovered I had a few small errors in my route. This time around we had ample time to thoroughly discuss everything, and after the call I felt relieved that I had plenty of time to get all this set up "right" in the sim. Only difference I made in the "numbers" was I took a Captain's discretionary bump of 5,000 extra on fuel so I was planned for a brake release of 104,100. This was because during the first attempt the FMC was projecting me after TOC to only have around 7000 lbs of fuel left on arrival. I'm entitled to my bump and so I took it. Figuring this flight is so late adding 5000 more lbs is not going to hurt anything. Attempt 2 Now prepped and ready sitting at the gate, after a last look at his new scheduled departure of 8:45 pm local, I started wondering how can I tell EXACTLY when he pushes so we can get the brakes released at the same time. One last look at the airline's site showed he had pushed at 8:47 pm local. I jumped into the sim and the sim time showed 8:47 local to the second! I quickly pushed back and began a taxi towards 13R that FS ATC was giving me. Of course I was quicker in my taxi than the Captain and decided to pull over into one of the taxi hold areas and pull up JFK Live ATC on the Internet. I could hear that they were using the 31's for departure, and shortly after that I heard his flight being instructed to hold short of taxiway Juliet. A quick glance out the LF window confirmed I was in nearly the same spot. After waiting a few minutes, I taxied down to 31L and held short, waiting to hear his flight cleared for takeoff. It was deserted down here as all the FS AI aircraft were using the reciprocal. Here is where some worry crept in. I did want to take the active and roll when he was cleared to do so, however I had default traffic taking off into my face. A head-on collision in the middle of 31L would not be a great way to start this journey! Visibility was very good, and I could see the AI traffic at the far end finally dissipate down to where everything was clear. As soon as it was, like a sign from above, I heard his flight cleared to takeoff. I eased the throttles forward and performed a rolling takeoff feeling assured we were within a minute of each other. Takeoff: 0113Z Very good takeoff! I do not know if it was the fact I had the real flight's numbers or not but everything seemed perfect. We were to fly the HAPIE3 and there are a few different turns you can make to accomplish this. I knew the Canarsie turn was very popular so at 400' AGL began the left turn towards it. My Level-D virtual first officer was in fine form tonight, retracting the gear and flaps according to schedule, and soon we were cutting inside of Canarsie VOR to fly outbound towards Hapie. During the climb I pulled up JFK Live Radar and noticed his flight was airborne and just behind and below me (although this could simply be the internet lag). His flight was handed off to departure but the JFK Live ATC dep. page was down. Well we are on our own now! I whispered to myself "have a good ride Captain". I knew at this point I was armed with enough information to make this one truly "as real as it gets". We had by this time ditched the default FS ATC, and since we planned to stay on the deck for the entire route traffic would not be any trouble thanks to LDS for their fully operational Traffic Collision and Avoidance System. Approaching Yahoo I noticed a flurry of default Project AI traffic quickly moving from my left to right across the TCAS and assumed that all the AI traffic was using the wrong NAT tonight. This suited me perfectly, since now there was one less thing I would have to worry about. I leveled off at FL350 and started settling in for a long haul. YAHOO 0134Z 90,900 lbs. We pass directly over Yahoo at 0134z with nearly 91,000 lbs. of fuel remaining. Later after having been debriefed by the Captain after the trip I noticed I am slightly ahead of him but over half of my "bump" fuel has already been burnt. Also he had been cleared direct a few times (unknown to me) and I had been flying the route exactly as filed. I am watching the end of the Yankees - Red Sox game in New York at this time and monitoring the flight in between pitches. Yes there are differences in real world flying vs. sim flying but the latters' are not all negative! TUSKY 0202Z 86,600 lbs. Clipping along and all is silent here in the house. Kids and wife are gone to bed and it's just me and the simulator. Looking back at the Captain's log I see he is slowly reeling us in and burning a touch less fuel to boot! Guess all those years of experience due mean A LOT. CYMON 0320Z 71,900 lbs. The Captain's direct clearance before the intersection has put him positively in front of us now, but that's OK...we will not have to hold on arrival. I plan to be busy during the NAT keeping up with all the enroute alternates and the "points of no return" so shortly before Cymon I wolf down some sandwiches along with some triscuits and cream cheese. Definitely a negative of flight sim vs. real-world! 51N050W 0345Z 67,600 lbs. AHA - Now that he can no longer cut the corners on some of these waypoints we are holding pace. Also the fuel burn has calmed down and we are very close in our numbers. It is about this time I assume the Captain is going to be napping. I consider this possibility myself but conclude it's a no-go due to the fact that I still have 1 failure per month armed on the sim. It has not happened yet in 250+ hours with the LDS 767 but if I take a nap I'm sure to have an unattended engine fire or some calamity that could put the flight in jeopardy. I shake the Z-monster off and open up the Golden Argosy for a re-read. 52N040W 0432Z 59,500 lbs. OK by now all my bump fuel is gone. Where did it go? I'm not sure. FMC is projecting us with around 13,000 at arrival so there is no need for alarm but we will keep a close eye on it. Also around this time I lose the Captain's flight on flightview.com. No cause for alarm as surely it is just due to range reasons but I do double-check the news site quickly to make sure there is no breaking news of a 767 missing over the North Atlantic! (Oh ye of little faith! Capt. V) 52N030W 0515Z 52,100 lbs. Looking later at the Captain's log I see the extra fuel burn has disappeared. Since we are now no longer as heavy we finally had a leg that we won the fuel battle. Now, looking back, I am sure this extra burn in fuel was due to different enroute winds we have been experiencing. FS default real-world weather is a great tool but let's face it, it is not an exact science. I can't harp on the FS weather too much, though, because on my log I have recorded light turbulence on this leg as well as the Captain. Must have been very light on my end because I do not recall turning the seatbelt sign on. Funny that the Captain mentions the movie -- somewhere around here I started watching "Goodfellas" on one of the movie channels. We are going to Italy...right? 51N020W 0600Z 44,000 lbs Still no Captain on flightview.com, or news of a missing 767. Am wondering whether or not we will be able to pick him up on any internet flight trackers, as we are now approaching Europe. Ranging out on the EHSI I see a long list of waypoints approaching that appear to be no more than 5 meters apart! About midway between Giper and Takas the FMC begins requesting FL370 and I suspect that the Captain, somewhere in this vicinity, will be climbing as well. I figure the pax are still asleep, so I commence a very slow hand-flown climb to FL370. The systems of the LDS are excellent but the real beauty of this bird is her hand flying capabilities. I find myself leveling off at FL370 and still hand flying her for several more miles. Finally I know there are a multitude of waypoints to record, therefore I reluctantly reengage LNAV and VNAV with the left autopilot controlling. One other aspect of sim flying I have noticed is that my sim time has fallen behind the real time by a couple of minutes! I engage 2X acceleration for a couple of minutes and get everything resynchronized. NTS 0732Z 29,000 lbs. We've been flying now for several hours, and I have to admit no boredom to this point. As we crossed the French coast flightview.com once again began reporting the Captain's flight! I know now all is well with them and comparing the 2 map views I see we appear to hit the coast at the same time. Reinvigorated we slip effortlessly on. BEBIX 0748Z 26,200 lbs. At this time I remember the Captain telling me not to worry about recording every waypoint, especially since a lot of these waypoints are 2 minutes apart. Flight simmers are too hardcore for that -- every waypoint is recorded! Plus, it keeps me busy and keeps the mind calculating possibilities. Then too, in the middle of the night here, Goodfellas just ended -- I find myself with not much else to do at this point! LATAM 0800Z 23,900 lbs. KOLON 0818Z 21,500 lbs. Just before Kolon I start checking Rome wx. Appears to be nice but I am hearing some distant thunder in the sim and way off in the distance directly ahead we see some VERY tall clouds. This may become very interesting! We see the Alps Maritimes off in the distance as well and slightly to the left of our track although they are somewhat obscured by clouds. Everything continues well during the latter portions of our cruise and we check back in with FS ATC. They order a descent to be initiated about 2 miles earlier than the FMC so we simply engage the VNAV DES NOW button on the FMC and we're descending. As the PA crackles to life informing the pax that we are close to ending this trip I wonder if the real-world Captain may be making a similar PA about this time. Everything is fine until as we are passing through FL300 the plane gets knocked sideways some as the wind violently shifts direction then as soon as the AP stabilizes everything we get hit again from the opposite direction. Enough of that -- I kick off the A/P and begin to hand fly the descent. It's slightly before 5 am back here in the Eastern US and I notice I am not sharp at all with my hand-flying skills so on the side of safety we turn everything back over to Otto. We pass through the broken to overcast skies around 10,000' to find a moderate thunderstorm taking place over the field. FS ATC is giving me a visual to 7 so this is where I once again part ways with the ATC. I know they regularly use 16R for landing so we vector ourselves in to take the ILS to 16R from about a 20 degree intercept. I start to pick up the ATIS for LIRF reading as ...vis 3 in rain, thunderstorms in the area. I decide against hand flying the approach as by this point in the flight nature was beginning to catch up with my body. We set her up for a LAND3 autoland and Otto takes over. I monitor the approach and the LDS sim simply nails the approach perfectly, I notice the flare commence and shortly after touchdown we engage the reversers and switch the A/P and A/T off. We taxi off and FS GND gives me a gate I have never used before. We begin to taxi there when we realize it is sending this international 767 flight out to what looks like a barn on the far north side of the airport. About this time we see a Delta 767-400 tied up at a respectable looking gate and we pull in beside him just as he is pushing back. I follow all of the shutdown checklists and just before killing the electrical power we notice the time in as being 0915z (1115 am local). At shutdown, fuel remaining shows 13,800 lbs. At this point although I am dying to know how the Captain's trip went. I head to bed and pass out knowing that as I fall asleep that I simply nailed that flight from start to finish. A few days later the Captain and I once again correspond by phone but this time it's a lot different. We do have some flight info to share but there is no "rush". He is off for a few days now. We share real world flight stories and simulated ones. He explains to me some real world airline procedures and facts about the 767 and I begin to explain to him some of the workings of a virtual airline. I find whilst speaking to him that we are not that much unalike. We both love aviation and practice it by the means available to us. Him a 767 flight deck and me a LDS simulation on the PC. As far as LDS goes this is by far the best add-on ever for flight simulator. On this example the flights were literally within a minute or so of each other and although I burnt a "touch" more fuel I feel this is the wx's fault and no fault of LDS. If you want the "immersion" factor, as I have searched for since I began flight simming, then the LDS sim is for you. I in no way work for them nor am I a beta tester, just your average simmer like the other 99.5% of us are. To this point there is nothing out there that comes close to the LDS sim and I advise all of you "on the fence" to check out their site and hopefully their product. As for the Captain I cannot say enough for the man. He is the consummate pro and I'm sure he ranks VERY highly with his airline. That alone does not compare with his willingness to share some of his experience with the flight sim community and he is to be respected in the community if for no other reason than that fact alone. Many thanks Captain for giving me the most realistic sim flight I have ever embarked on and I get great pleasure in sharing this journey with all of you. "Sim" Captain Chuck Gehman simboeing24@yahoo.com

By Tony Vallillo (21 August 2004) It's been a real pleasure having you with us for the trip to Rome! Many of you have expressed interest in this series of articles and a number of you indicate an interest in a career as an airline pilot. I hope that the insights into our day-to-day routine will be useful. It is important to understand, however, that trips such as this one to Rome are usually very senior trips at an airline, like American, that has a large international division. A pilot for Southwest, at least for now, will not be flying a trip like this, nor a pilot for Jet Blue or any number of airlines whose focus is purely domestic. Nor, for that matter, will a junior pilot at American. An airline career is always under the rule of the seniority system, and, all in all, this is a good thing. Seniority systems ensure that access to the more desirable jobs will be handled in accordance with a fixed protocol, and not at the whim of a chief pilot or flight manager. Seniority has also ensured, over the years, that the pilots of the largest airplanes are the most experienced on the property. Since experience does count for something in this business, this has also had a positive influence on air safety. The more junior pilots at any airline, however, will be flying copilot or, until very recently, flight engineer, and not captain. They will likely be flying the smaller airplanes on shorter domestic runs, and not the long haul non-stop premium trips like JFK-Rome. Although I have no plans to inflict another series of articles upon you, it will be interesting to at least examine a typical "junior" trip. This example, one of a great many, is from the American Airlines Super 80 selections. The day begins with an 05:00 sign-in at LGA for an 06:00 departure to ORD, which is a flight of around two hours twenty minutes gate to gate. After arriving at ORD at 07:19, you will change planes and leave ORD at 08:16 bound for SAT, arriving at 11:12 for a layover. You will have from around noon on to enjoy the sights and the fine Tex-Mex food, before retiring early (to bed, that is!) since wake-up will be around 04:45! Departure from SAT is 06:00 bound for DFW, known around American as the Master Base. Having perhaps dipped a wing to the company HQ on final approach to the north runways at DFW, you will arrive at around 07:05, and, after bidding the passengers farewell, you seek the next flight, which leaves DFW at 08:00 for ORD. Arrival at ORD will be 10:15 if all goes well, and after perhaps a quick bite to eat, you leave ORD at 12:59 bound for LGA and home, arriving around 16:00. During the two days, you will be fed onboard once each day, a breakfast on the first flight of the first day, and the second flight of the second day. Overall, the trip is worth around ten and a half hours of flight pay, which is enough to avoid triggering provisions in the contract requiring certain minimums of pay per duty period. If this were your trip as a schedule for the entire month, you would have to fly seven of them to get a more or less full month. Domestic trips can be two days, like this one, or one day, which are known as turnarounds. A turnaround might be just two legs, like JFK-MIA-JFK, or it could be more, like LGA-ORD-IND-ORD-LGA. Then there are three and four day trips, which are more like the one described above with the addition of one or two more days of flying. Since American's system includes a considerable amount of fairly long domestic flights - well over an hour - the multi-day trips usually involve no more than three legs per duty period. On an airline with a shorter stage length system, like Southwest, a duty day may involve considerably more flying than just two legs, although probably not much more in terms of total hours. The Nest; your home in the air. Of course, a pilot does not have to wait until he or she has mostly grey hair to fly to places like Rome. These trips can be flown as First Officer or Relief Pilot much earlier in a career, and the fun factor is almost the same! Indeed, a few years ago new hires at AA were flying the international division to Europe as FO and FB, albeit not to Rome. But there are many other beautiful and interesting destinations - like Paris, Zurich, Brussels, Buenos Aires, Sao Paolo, London and so on, many of which are available to more junior pilots. The airline pilot career has been changing rapidly, especially since 9/11, and it looks like it will continue to do so. Not all of the changes have been desirable. Many pilots have lost their jobs, at least temporarily, and there is still a possibility that at least one airline in the US will cease to operate. Does this mean that it is futile to pursue a career as an airline pilot? Of course not! But you must go about it with your eyes open. Be realistic as to the conditions and prospects for both employment and the quality of the job once you get it. Be sure your expectations are in line with the reality of the industry. One thing is certain - for a considerable time to come, and regardless of the price of oil, airplanes and airlines will be the principal mass transit system, especially in the United States. And, from a purely flying standpoint, it will probably still be enjoyable. It may not be quite as lucrative as it has been in the past, but it will remain a good living and a good way to make a living. So keep pursuing it if you want to. It should still be worth your efforts. Now, for those of you who merely want to simulate this on your new Alien Ware hot rod, how best to go about it? The following is somewhat tongue in cheek, but would result in perhaps the most realistic simulacrum of the overall experience. Read on! Begin by getting in your car around 1400 local time and driving for two hours, preferably mostly on an Interstate. End the drive back home, and proceed to your computer, where you will examine the weather and plan your flight. If you don't have access to navigation charts and such, simply use the general flight plans included in the GA articles. Try to fly this in an aircraft that has a functioning FMC, if possible. If the only such aircraft you have is of shorter range, such as a 737NG, use that anyway and disable the fuel burn if possible. It is probably a better overall simulation to use an FMC than to be slavish about actually burning fuel at a given rate. Of course, you could always challenge yourself with a fuel leak or the like, just to spice things up! But at least for the first time, keep the actual flying simple. The purpose of this exercise is to simulate the overall experience, especially the fatigue issues. At around 17:30 local time (Eastern, if you are leaving from JFK) start your checklists. Promptly at 17:50 leave the gate and start engines. Taxi out to the active runway very slowly, taking at least 20 minutes to get to the takeoff position. If you have access to some sort of realistic ATC system, use it. If not, don't worry. Ditto the AI airplanes. After around 20-30 minutes out to off, takeoff and fly your flight plan as precisely as you can. Phone a friend with position reports at the mandatory oceanic waypoints. Use proper reporting format. At some point around 2-3 hours into the simulated flight, have your (spouse, parent, friend) prepare and serve a meal, perhaps a TV dinner or the like. Take only a two-hour break for a nap and make yourself get up for the remainder of the flight. Don't just let the autopilot do all of the work - pay attention every minute! Use real world weather for the arrival, and also for the enroute winds if possible. Fly the arrival and approach as precisely as possible. Once again, if an ATC service is available, use it. After landing, taxi to the gate and shut down. Wait about 5 minutes, then walk around the block to simulate going through the terminal to the van pick up point. Have your (spouse, parent, friend) drive you around for around 15-20 minutes, and then, back home, head for the sack. Allow yourself to sleep around 3-4 hours, then wake up and eat and go for a long walk. If you live in a city that has a "little Italy", walk around there! Have a nice meal in a good Italian restaurant. Your next wake up will be at 0200 local time, so plan to get some more sleep prior to then. At that time, get up, shower and the rest, have yourself driven around for 15 minutes, and report to your computer for the flight home. Do all of the same things again, leaving the gate at 0400 local (eastern time, again). Taxi out and takeoff, and fly the trip home. Again, use ATC if available. Take around a 2.5-hour break on this leg. You may choose either the first, second or third break, as you wish. After all, you're the Captain! When you park at the gate and shut down the computer, you're not done yet! Drive for another two hours. When you arrive back home, then you are finished! Mission accomplished! Still want to be an airline pilot?! Anthony Vallillo avallillo@charter.net

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

Golden Argosy Part 3 By Tony Vallillo (15 July 2004) An airline layover can, depending upon the location and accommodations, be either a mini-vacation or a mini incarceration! The basic purpose of the layover, of course, has nothing to do with entertainment or sightseeing, but rather with the rest and rejuvenation of the crew. Nevertheless, some crewmembers also look at layovers as potential sources of entertainment and fun, and some even bid their flights according to their tastes in destinations. I am one of these folks, and I bid the Rome trips solely because of the lure of the destination! Rome from the Capitoline Hill As we clamber off the bus at the hotel, our home away from home for some 24 hours, we are once again faced with a familiar dilemma: sleep, or hit the ground running! Remember that it is now around 3 in the morning tummy time, even if it is 9 am here. At this point, what the body wants most of all is to sleep for at least 8 hours, probably longer. If one gives in to this natural urge, though, one finds oneself waking up around 6 o'clock in the evening local time. Well rested, you could have dinner and perhaps seek a bit of nighttime entertainment, but by the time the body was ready for sleep again, it would be but a few hours until your wake-up call, and a good deal of the flight back would be spent in a semi-comatose condition. So you must deny the body what it wants in the short run, and try to set your schedule from sign-in time tomorrow backwards to today. Nobody said this career was going to be easy! Once inside the hotel, we wait for our room keys. Arrivals this early in the morning are a problem for hotels, since check out time is hours later, and most of the rooms are still filled with snoring guests. Some people, to be sure, are checking out early. But the rooms will need to be cleaned, and this will take some time. Here in Rome, the wait is seldom longer than 20 minutes or so. But in other cities, waits of 2-3 hours are common, and the longest wait I have had in my career was in a 5 star hotel in Paris where we got to sample the delights of the opulent lobby for over 5 hours! Of course, that hotel was a one-night exception to the unwritten rule against layovers in 5 star hotels! The quality of our layover hotels is, with few exceptions, quite good. Hotels are selected by a joint committee of the company and the two unions (pilot and flight attendant) involved. In the early days of aviation, as Ernie Gann said in "Fate is the Hunter", they ranged from the Salvation Army to the Garden of Eden. Today, they are much more uniform, in terms of quality and desirability. But the selection is not easy. Beyond the basics of decent rooms, two things drive hotel selection - location and location! The difficulty lies in the fact that no two people will have the same idea of what location is best. Pilots and flight attendants often differ in this respect, and finding a location that will please both, with a decent hotel that will take airline business, and offer rates that are attractive to the company from an expense standpoint can often be a real challenge. With keys finally in hand, I bid the crew goodnight and head to my room. Since my flying career began in the Air Force in 1971, it seems that I have spent at least a cumulative decade in hotel rooms, or the military equivalents! After so long, they all seem about the same: a bed, a bathroom, a closet, a small desk, and perhaps an armchair of some sort. The one real exception was that 5 star place in Paris, where the room was so large and ornate that it seemed to take an hour just to explore it! All that acreage was wasted on little old me, though. Although She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed has occasionally accompanied me on trips, I was solo on that occasion. Today, though, the room is standard issue, and can be explored in around half a minute. No problem - I need no more. The legends about romantic interludes between crewmembers on layovers are, for the most part, relics of the 1960's. The work is too hard these days, especially aft of the cockpit door, for any energy to be left for hijinks! My plan is to sleep until around noon, and then head out for some sightseeing. And what sights there are to see! Occasionally, if I have a "nugget" on the crew (old Navy term for new crewmember) I will offer the "grand tour" of the main attractions. Today, we'll run through it just for you! So grab a few winks and I'll see you in the lobby around noon. The Victor Emanuele Monument Grabbing a few winks is not always as easy as it should be, even at this "late" hour. You were probably into the coffee at least a bit during the last hour or two of the flight, just to be alert for the descent and landing. This often backfires now, an hour or so later, when you actually have the opportunity to sleep in a real bed. Fortunately, today, the wake up call is the next thing I hear. Getting up after only 3 hours of sleep in these circumstances is extremely difficult. The bed has the lure of the mythical sirens, and on at least a few occasions my intentions of getting up and hitting the bricks have evaporated as I yielded to the irresistible temptation of more hours of sleep. Knowing what a mistake that can be, though, I force myself out of bed and into the shower, where either hot or cold water will jolt me awake in an instant. Partially rejuvenated, I head for the lobby where I find you eagerly waiting. This is your first trip to Rome, and you want to see all of the sights. We'll start close by the Forum at the Victor Emanuel monument, that enormous white marble edifice that the locals have dubbed "the typewriter" and/or "the wedding cake". Not always a favorite among natives, it is nevertheless usually thronged with tourists, at least some of whom probably think that it dates back to the Roman Empire like the rest of the architecture here! It does not - it is a late 19th century artifact. So we will not tarry there, but instead will sprint up the several hundred feet of stairs to the Capitoline hill. The buildings here now were all built during the Renaissance; the plaza itself was designed by Michelangelo. But originally this area housed the capital buildings and a temple to Jupiter, the Roman edition of the Greeks' Zeus, the Chief Pilot of the Gods, as it were. The Piazza del Campidoglio, Capitoline Hill There are a great many excellent guidebooks that tell the tales of all of the great monuments and archaeological sites in Rome, so I won't spend too much time giving you the history and background of everything we will see today. Instead, I'll share it in pictures, some of the over 500 that I have taken since I started flying here last year. Digital cameras are great gadgets, and the "film" is cheap, as is the processing! The Forum from the Capitoline Hill The Via Sacra From the Capitoline, you overlook the Forum, the large area that was the center of Roman life and culture in the days of the Republic and Empire. Our first major sight is the Arch of Septimus Severus. It is interesting to discover that, as recently as the 19th century, the entire area of the Forum was buried up to nearly the inside of the arch itself, which once, according to a guide, housed a barbershop! Serious excavations started in the 1800's, and are still ongoing today. We'll walk through the Forum along the ancient Via Sacra, passing such sights as the Temple of Vesta, the dormitory of the Vestal Virgins, The Basilica of Constantine, and other less famous ruins. At the other end of the Forum is one of the most recognizable buildings in Rome - the Coliseum. This was perhaps the world's first covered stadium, equipped with a sailcloth "roof" which could be retracted or extended by a squad of sailors permanently assigned to the amphitheatre, all of whom were experienced in "hauling on the bowline"! The Arch of Constantine The Flavian Amphitheater, otherwise known as the Coliseum The interior of the Coliseum After we tour the Coliseum, we turn up the Via dei Fori Imperiali and pass the ruins of Trajan's markets, arguably the first shopping mall! Was this, in fact, the hangout of imperial Roman teenagers? No one can say, although rumors continue to circulate about mysterious "Nikeum" inscriptions found inside! The ruins of Trajan's Market We will now head up the Via Del Corso, a famous street with all kinds of exclusive shops. Our goal lies off to the east of the Via, the famous Trevi Fountain. It was here that Anita Ekberg romped in "La Dolce Vita". The place is always thronged with tourists, but romping in the water is now forbidden! The Trevi Fountain After all this tramping about, the temptations of the Gelato shops become too irresistible, and we stop for some refreshment. Italian ice and ice cream are among the world's great treats, and in Rome the selection is overwhelming. The average gelato shop is a rainbow riot of color, and the stuff tastes even better than it looks! Refueled now, we cross the Via del Corso, bound now for the largest and most intact Roman Temple still standing, the Pantheon. Pantheon means "all of the gods"; and, to cover all the bases, the Romans had an altar in there dedicated to the "unknown god", lest some hitherto unrevealed deity take umbrage! The coffered ceiling is cement, poured in place into wooden molds, which were later removed. The formula for cement was subsequently lost for many centuries, being rediscovered, fortunately, in time to build runways! Originally a pagan temple, the Pantheon was consecrated as a Christian church in the early 600's, and it remains so to this day. The Pantheon We take leave of the Pantheon and the Piazza della Rotunda, which it faces, and head toward another famous Piazza, the Piazza Navona. Here we find two of Bernini's most famous fountains, including the Fountain of the Four Rivers, allegorically depicting the four greatest rivers known at that time (the Renaissance), the Danube, Nile, Ganges and Plate. The Piazza Navona Fountain of Neptune, Piazza Navona Typical side street near the Pantheon Now our steps are drawn to the Tiber, for we are headed to Castel Sant' Angelo, which, though a papal fortress in the Renaissance, was originally the mausoleum of the Roman Emperor Hadrian. This fortress served as a refuge for more than one Pope during times of siege and is still connected to the Vatican itself by a fortified causeway. St. Peter's Square Interior of St. Peter's Basilica After taking in the Castel Sant' Angelo, we head up the Via del Conciliazione, which leads directly to St. Peter's square. This is not square at all, but rather an oval, enclosed by another of Bernini's triumphs, the famous colonnade. We stroll across the plaza and climb a flight of stairs to the right, which leads to the entry to St. Peter's and also to the stairway to the top of the dome. We'll leave the dome for another layover, when we have more energy! Now, we enter the nave of St. Peter's, reputed to be the world's largest church. I can certainly believe that claim -- the church is vast! Pictures simply cannot convey the size of this liturgical space! Fine dining, Roman style Having roamed respectfully through the great basilica we now take our leave, for we are following our appetites. All this walking is hungry work, and since we are in one of the world's great culinary centers, we anticipate a great dining experience! Many crewmembers actually eschew the sightseeing altogether, and concentrate entirely on the cuisine. None of us are disappointed -- I've never had a bad meal here! After several blocks of reconnaissance, we settle on a promising looking eatery. The weather is fine, so we will dine outdoors. A menu in English is proffered -- I wonder how they knew (!) -- and we peruse the delights on offer. A meal in Italy consists of many courses, and the pasta is only an appetizer. Having ordered, we settle down for a several-hour experience. Meals are never rushed, unless you insist on it, and we take advantage of the opportunity for conversation and good eating! Crew conversations tend to be wide-ranging, from family and children to stories of the "old" days, rumors about the company, plans for upcoming holidays or vacations, even plans for upcoming retirements! As day yields to evening, and evening to night, we reflect upon how lucky we are to be doing this. As I hope you can see from these narratives, the job is not all glamour, but the greater part of it can be enjoyable, and moments like this are priceless. Times like this, along with the actual flying, are what I will miss on that inevitable day when the grim reaper of retirement comes calling! For now, we simply savor the moment, reminding ourselves that these really are the good old days! The Forum by night Sated in appetite and spirit, we set course back to the hotel. We've covered a lot of ground today, and we've seen a great deal of history. Tomorrow, we fly back home. For now, let's get some sleep. See you at pickup time! Authors note: Continued in Golden Argosy part IV, Homeward Bound! Anthony Vallillo avallillo@charter.net

Golden Argosy Part 2B By Tony Vallillo (29 June 2004) Sleep on an airplane is usually dreamless, at least for me. Unlike REM sleep, where nocturnal adventures play like 3D movies, airplane sleep is simply a suspension of consciousness, a sort of physiological fast-forward. I once "slept" for an entire deadhead on a C-141A from Charleston S.C. to Tokyo, including a 3 hour stop at Anchorage, which I also slept through. So little refreshment resulted from all of this "sleep" that I promptly proceeded to the hotel and slept an additional 8 hours for real! Now, as the Flight Attendant nudges me awake at the request of the two stalwart airmen on duty, it seems that I have slumbered for no more than one or two minutes. A glance at my watch reveals otherwise - I have slept the entire two hours of my break, an unusual but welcome circumstance! The Aurora Borealis seen at latitude 53 north in spring. After a quick freshen-up in the "blue room", I return to the flight deck. Releasing the First Officer to his break, I survey the situation almost five hours into our odyssey. We have just passed 20 degrees West. It is still dark, although a faint glow in the east heralds the arrival of a new day. These late night flights can have a magic all their own. Occasionally, in the northern latitudes we sometimes use for the tracks, the Aurora Borealis treats us to a spectacular light show. Although we don't often see the Technicolor displays typical in the arctic, we can sometimes see pastel colors. On several occasions I have flown directly beneath an Aurora, looking right up into the vertex of the flux, which looks for all the world like a glowing circus tent from below. Several times per year the skies put on the best show of all - a major meteor shower. It is not uncommon to spend an entire flight watching several meteors per minute shooting across the sky! As I reminisce about the wonders of the night sky, dawn begins to break in earnest. Soon it will be time to hoist out the sunshades and arrange them painstakingly across the front windshield. Sunsets, when westbound at 500 knots, seem to last forever, but eastbound the sun leaps up like it was shot from a canon! Sunrise at FL350. Normally, at 15 degrees West the long tendrils of the ground-based radar system can once again take hold of us, and we would be in radar contact and VHF radio contact with Shannon Center. Today, though, we are taking a more southerly route, and so will proceed well south of Ireland itself, and Shannon airspace. In fact, we will not contact a domestic control center until nearing 8 degrees West, when we pass into airspace controlled by Brest, in western France. Once in radar and VHF contact with Brest, we can request a climb to what is now a more efficient altitude. Jet engines have always performed most economically at high altitudes, generally the higher the better. But airplane performance is limited by a number of things, not merely engine efficiency. A major limitation on performance is the weight of the ship, and the wing can lift a given weight to only a certain altitude without reaching a point where the speed required to generate the lift needed is beyond the capability of the engines to generate; or, if the engines could do it, it would put the airplane too far into the transonic regime of flight. At speeds above around Mach .70, swept wing airplanes enter what is called the transonic range. Although the airplane itself is still subsonic by a considerable margin, the air going over the top of the wing is being accelerated as it is slung up and over the curve of the airfoil. Above this "Critical Mach", some portion of the airflow at some point above the wing is actually going supersonic with respect to the wing structure itself. It matters not which is moving, the wing or the air, for the result is the same. As air flows across something at supersonic speeds, a shock wave is formed. In the lee of this shockwave, the flow becomes turbulent and somewhat detached, similar to a stall condition. Turbulent flow creates a buffet, which, as speed increases, becomes more pronounced as the airflow separation occurs over a wider area of the wing surface. Eventually, in theory, the entire airflow would separate, but this does not happen because the shock wave produces a large amount of drag, eventually precluding further acceleration altogether. It was partly this shockwave phenomenon, and the rapid drag rise, that gave birth to the notion of the "sound barrier" in the early days of sonic flight. Our cruise speed of Mach .80 puts us into this transonic range, but the wings are designed to fly like this, and the shape of the wings, as well as certain added featurettes like vortex generators, keep the shock wave under control. Sometimes, when the light is just right, you can actually see the shock wave out the window if you are sitting over the wing. As we burn fuel, and thus reduce the weight of the ship, we can reach higher altitudes without compromising this so-called buffet boundary. So we will request FL 370 initially, which is granted forthwith when Brest has us in radar contact. Dialing the new altitude into the AFCS window, I let the VNAV function carry out a cruise climb, which is so gentle as to be undetectable from the cabin. By the time we cross the beach near a VOR named Cognac (CGC), which I presume is somewhere in the heart of the wine country, we have reached our new altitude. The Alpes Maritimes. Contact with Brest brings linguistic confirmation that, as Dorothy told Toto, "We aren't in Kansas any more!" The French controllers speak excellent English, and they do so with a Maurice Chevalier accent that is as delightful to hear as it is sometimes difficult to understand, at least for a New Yorker! On paper, English is the international language of aviation, a decision taken at an ICAO meeting in the immediate aftermath of WWII. In reality, however, this means only that English will be available throughout the world, not necessarily that it will be the only language heard on the radio! In France, and a number of other countries as well, many of the local pilots converse with the controllers in the native tongue. While no doubt easier for them, this does create problems for the rest of us. By listening to the radio, a pilot can build a mental picture of the surrounding traffic and atmospheric conditions, which can be a valuable asset in overall situational awareness. But when a great deal of the chatter is in an incomprehensible language, you lose whatever intel could thus be gathered. Possibly that pilot is giving a turbulence report, or being cleared to land on the runway you are holding in position on. The ability to back-up the controller is pretty well gone. Aviation English, outside of North America and parts of Europe, can often be a small vocabulary learned by rote in phrases (not unlike learning Italian from a CD!). As long as you keep to the standard body of repertoire, mutual understanding will take place. But pilots in America have long since become casual in their phraseology, as have some controllers. This works just fine in the land of the big BX, but is an invitation to trouble outside of the USA and Canada. The most important element of an international qualification is exposure to the accents and discipline in using the correct terminology. This has become an even bigger problem now that waypoints all have 5 letter names, the vast majority of which appear to have been made up by a computer with crossed wires! Consider these examples, all from the Western Europe area: RATKA, OMOKO, KENUK, BEGAS, HIDRA, NAKID, GIPER, GAPLI, and the list goes on to infinity. These particular examples, while nonsense words having no meaning or association with reality, are relatively straightforward in their pronunciation, at least for an American. But because these are not really words, and thus have no agreed-to pronunciation, someone from elsewhere may pronounce these things much differently than I do, and it leads to constant requests for "..say again..", often more than once! Listening carefully, and taking even more delight in the accents of the young women, who seem to be moving into the controller ranks in large numbers throughout Europe, we make our way across France. The radar ATC system here is excellent, indistinguishable, but for the accents, from Chicago or New York center. Clearances to go direct and thus cut distance are often available, and we take advantage of them as much as we can. We ask for and receive clearance direct from around Cognac to a waypoint called LERGA, in the middle of southern France. From here on, we will begin to see the foothills of the Alpes Maritimes, lying in the morning mists below. We are now around an hour out of Rome, and I begin to attend to the details of the arrival. A few taps of the ACARS keyboard brings us the latest weather, and the ATIS. Mid level clouds, a bit of mist lying around the valleys, and fairly good visibility with southerly winds is what is on tap. They seem to be using the 16's for landing, which is typical. We will set up the FMC's for the ILS to 16R with the TAQ transition. This transition leads directly to the localizer, without any need for vectors, and is often flown that way. It is something of a contrast to London, where even high overflying aircraft are treated to micro vectoring for hundreds of miles. (I have never been able to figure out the reason for these vectors, which usually take the aircraft along the filed route, only a few hundred yards to one side or another! Seems like a lot of work on somebody's part.) The Cote Azur. Approaching the Cote Azure, we look down upon Nice, just now waking up. The mountains run right to the sea at this point of the coast, and the Grand Corniche, the cliff-hugging coast road, can be seen on both sides now. This road, which is among the world's great thrill rides, was built by none other than Napoleon. And now, as we go "feet wet" for one more short time, we are confronted with two more memories of the General. Directly before us lies the mountainous island of Corsica, Napoleon's birthplace. We make a turn toward the east over the town of Bastia, on the northern tip of the island, and head for Elba, the volcanic island just off the coast of Italy itself, where the British first incarcerated Napoleon. The island looks beautiful in the extreme, but apparently the little man didn't like the scenery, because he escaped and returned to France, only to keep a date with the Duke of Wellington at a place called Waterloo. For my money, he should have stayed on Elba! Since passing Nice, we have been cleared to lower altitudes. There are a number of ways to perform a descent in an airliner, and 5 different pilots will probably have 5 different ways to do it! Much depends upon the level and quality of the autoflight system. The old Boeing 727 had a dependable autopilot, but aside from altitude hold, it had no real pitch mode other than plain old attitude hold, which could often be a bit jerky. A great many pilots on that now-venerable liner began descents by disconnecting the autopilot and starting the descent manually, engaging the autopilot only when the correct attitude had been established. Or, perhaps, not at all - quite a few of us hand flew the bird at all times except in cruise! It had great handling qualities and a not-so-great autopilot. The DC series, the various versions of the 9 and 10, had a vertical speed function that apparently worked very well, to judge from the proclivity of the alumni of these airplanes to use the vertical speed knob on the 767! The mountains of Corsica. The 767, on the other hand, has an autoflight system that can out-finesse almost any pilot, except on a very good day! Any mode of the autoflight yields a smooth transition from cruise into descent, so we can choose from flight level change, vertical nav, vertical speed, or hand flying. I tend to use the cruise descent feature of the vertical nav function. This simply involves inputting a new altitude in the cruise page of the FMC and activating it. It has the advantage of updating the top-of-descent calculations for the later portions of the descent. The vernav function can be programmed to hit a whole series of intermediate altitude constraints, crossing various fixes at, or above, or below specified altitudes, at any speed desired within the capability of the airplane. One does have to keep a close eye on it, since it will, when tasked beyond its' limits, "give up" and default to an idle descent without warning, which will no longer comply with the constraints placed upon it! But most of the time it works like a charm. Approaching Elba. Heading now toward Elba, we change over to Rome control. The difference is amazing, like strolling from the France pavilion at EPCOT over to Italy! The Rome controllers speak excellent English, with an accent straight out of Mama Leone's! They have everything lined up for approaches to the 16's. Although we often get an initial approach clearance for 16L, by the time we are talking to approach control we are usually given the ILS to 16R. This is the way we want it, because our gate is much closer to 16R than it is to the left. Crossing Elba, we set course for Tarquinia, on the coast of Tuscany. Off in the distance to the northeast, we can occasionally get a glimpse of the environs of Florence. From Tarquinia onward, we are using the approach page for the ILS 16R. Only once or twice have we gotten vectored off the transition, usually for spacing on another leading aircraft. Most of the time, the controllers just let us follow the transition all the way to the localizer, at Golpo. Speed below 10,000 feet is 250 knots, although the controllers can issue a clearance for higher speeds and they occasionally do. Closer in, speeds are held at or above 210 kts until around 12 miles from touchdown. This yields just enough time and distance to slow down and get the flaps extended past 5 degrees before intercepting the glide slope. Today the logbook says that the airplane needs to log an autoland, so I will perform a coupled approach to landing. The automatic landing system originated in Britain in the 1960's; a product, no doubt, of the famous London fog! The first jetliner so equipped was the Trident, a medium range trijet from which, it is said, the 727 inherited its appearance. The success of this early system spurred development of more advanced versions, and nearly all modern airliners are equipped with double or triple autopilot systems certified for landing and rollout in visibilities less than 600 feet. The autoland uses the localizer and glide slope of the ILS to create a path for the autopilot to track, and the onboard radar altimeter cues the flare. The autothrottle system maintains speed and retards the throttles to idle at touchdown. The airplane needs to log an autoland for certification purposes every so often, around 60 days or so, and the opportunities to fly one in real weather are somewhat scarce, especially in the summertime. Since we can let Otto make the landing on any ILS runway, we'll give him a shot today. Breakfast time. Slowing now at 10,000 feet, I signal the Flight Attendants to finish battening down the hatches and take their seats. Notwithstanding the considerable amount of hash they have slung (including a breakfast served over the last half hour or so), their real duties occur mostly below 10,000 feet. It is here, strapped into jump seats at every exit, that they stand guard, ready to go into action should an emergency develop and the passengers need to be evacuated quickly. They are trained and certified to get everyone out of the airplane in less than two minutes, using only half of the available exits. They would do this on receipt of a special signal from the cockpit, but they are also trained to use their heads and initiate an evacuation on their own, if conditions are serious enough to warrant it. Approach control clears us to intercept the ILS localizer, and I arm the autopilot for the approach. Once the localizer is captured, we arm the approach mode, which arms the glideslope function. All three autopilots are now engaged. The 767 has three autopilots not so much for enroute redundancy as for this one duty - the automatic landing. The FAA decided, rightly so, that triple redundancy would be required for blind automatic landings to be considered sufficiently safe. Below 200 feet, we can lose an entire electrical bus system, including one of the three autopilots, and still have enough gadgetry working to complete an autoland. Approaching Tarquinia. As we near the glideslope, I reduce speed. The autopilot works best when changes are introduced slowly. We want to be fully configured and on speed by around 1500 feet, to give Otto a chance to track the localizer and glideslope accurately. He needs to get a sense of the drift caused by the winds in order to fly the last few hundred feet precisely. Approaching glideslope intercept, the gear is extended and flaps are set to 20 degrees. From here on down, it is a matter of keeping two needles centered - the localizer, which indicates our deviation left and right, and the glideslope, which shows us our deviation from the correct vertical path. Porte San Stefano on Argentarola, on the coast approaching Tarquinia. The ILS approach system, now the worldwide standard, has been in use for around 50 years. It consists of several transmitters - a localizer aligned with the runway centerline and projecting out in both directions beyond each end of the runway, and a glideslope which is aligned with the descent angle and projects only up the approach path. Until the early 1970's, the system was accurate enough to allow descents to as low as 200 feet above the ground, which in turn meant minimum visibilities of 1/2 mile or so. In the '70s more accurate transmitters were developed which allowed the localizer and glideslope to be followed down to 100 feet above ground. This allowed minimum visibilities of 1/4 mile. The current no-ceiling and 300 foot visibility minima came about when the autopilots got sophisticated enough to land the plane, since it was considered beyond the safe capability of any pilot to hand fly in visibilities that low. Ironically, the future of low visibility operations seems to be in the direction of hand flying once again, with Heads Up Displays providing artificial visual cues which the pilot sees projected on a transparent screen in the windshield in front of him. Either way, it is a tremendous improvement from the old DC-3 days, when approaches were flown using the 4-course radio ranges, often to 200 feet and one half mile, although the actual published minima were higher! (See again "Fate is the Hunter", by Ernest K. Gann) Lago de Bolsena abeam Tarquinia. As we slide down the glideslope toward the runway, we can see the coast just to our right. Several large cruise ships are in port, and more than a few of our passengers are probably going to be enjoying the sunset from the poop deck of one of them! Lago de Bolsena with mist in the nearby valley. At 1000 feet we check everything again - gear, flaps, brake pressures. We are by now talking to the control tower and are cleared to land on 16R. We have, of course, been able to see the runway for the last 10 miles. If this landing were actually being made in 300 feet of visibility, things would now be getting interesting. From here on down, I hold the control wheel and throttles, a finger close to the disconnect button of each, alert to any untoward movements and ready to disconnect in an instant. Below 100 feet, an instant is all I would have, but it would be enough. Special monitoring systems will flash us an alert now if any component, airborne or ground, should go awry. At 300 feet radar altitude I make an initial assessment: speed within 5 knots of approach speed, needles within 1/2 dot of centered. These will be the limits from here to the ground, and any deviation in excess of these will result in a go-around. Go-arounds are also automatic - just push one switch on the throttle and power increases to maximum and the autopilot starts a brisk climb. But that won't be necessary this morning. Otto has everything nailed - speed right on and needles perfectly centered. At 100 feet the flare mode arms and around 30 feet it begins to raise the nose to reduce the descent rate. Throttles retard smoothly and we touch down with only a small squeak. I can do better, but not consistently! Photo by Adriano Fidanza The spoilers deploy automatically, to dump whatever lift the wings are still generating, which is, in fact, a considerable amount. The autopilot is still controlling steering, using the localizer for guidance. I apply reverse thrust manually. Here in Rome, in the morning, reverse is allowed only in idle unless an emergency dictates more. This makes things less noisy, but it is harder on the brakes, which will now have to do all of the stopping themselves. As we slow to 80 knots, I stow the reversers. Reverse thrust below about 60 knots can blow things forward of the engine, where they can be sucked in and cause damage to the fan stages. Around 40 knots I disconnect the autopilot and begin steering toward the high-speed turnoff coming up on the left. As we clear the runway, I stow the spoiler handle and call for the after landing checklist. We're almost there! Any taildragger pilot will tell you that you must fly the bird right to the chocks. Although an airliner can be driven there, and not actually "flown", it still pays to be alert. Rome airport is just like JFK - a beehive of vehicular and aircraft activity at this hour. So I pay close attention to our taxi route and let the FO handle the after landing checklist. Parked at T-8. We are parking at gate T-8 today. This gate is located in what appears to be an addition to the terminal complex, separate from the main buildings and reached by a small tram, similar to the one at MIA that connects Concourse E to the main terminal. All of the gates here have an automatic parking system, one that is well modeled in the Rome add-on scenery created by SimFlyers. As I turn toward the lead-in line, a digital lighted signboard flashes with the aircraft type (767-300) to confirm that it is set correctly. Then it begins to give steering guidance, left or right as necessary. Within the last 30 feet or so, it indicates distance to go, climaxing with a "STOP" command at the penultimate point. If I have carried to much momentum this far, and go even a millimeter beyond the bounds of automated propriety, a denigrating "TOO FAR" remonstration flashes accusingly! I have no idea what the purpose of this last insult is, since no effort is made to reposition the aircraft. Just the system thumbing its' nose at me, on the one or two occasions I have triggered it! Not today, however, since I am wise to its ways. I taxi the last 30 feet at a literal snail's pace, and when the STOP indication first appears, I can make a smooth stop that will go unnoticed in the back. This constant endeavor to make a flight as totally sensation free as possible is, in my opinion, the hallmark of a real professional pilot. The passengers pay us for a serene experience - they can easily get thrills at any amusement park - and we try hard to provide what they desire. This is rarely possible in any total sense, of course, since the air is a fluid and often unstable medium. But we certainly do our best to keep our own manipulations from adding to the sensations! Leonardo's statue in front of the terminal. Having arrived at the gate, we run the last checklist of the flight and I proceed to the door to bid the passengers farewell. This last task, of course, is more palatable when the landing has been a grease-job, but it is important no matter what the circumstances. Air travel has metamorphosed from an elegant experience savored mainly by the rich and famous to a mass transportation common-carrier experience. Nonetheless, I believe that most passengers still look to the cockpit crew with at least a little of the respect and perhaps awe that attended the Captains of the great ocean liners during the golden age of the sea. They very much want to place their full trust in us, and part of the reason they feel free to do so may well be what I call the "Central Casting" image of the airline pilot, perpetuated in movies over the years. It is more or less what they expect to see, and we try hard to ensure that they do see it. This is one reason why the "suit of lights" is so important, along with the hat and the other accoutrements like wings and big watches! And so I stand at the cockpit door, hat and jacket on, and bid each passenger adieu. Occasionally, I collect a salute or a proffered handshake, which I courteously return. And there are always the children! I well remember my first and only airplane ride as a child, on a DC-3 of Allegheny Airlines. I spent the entire flight in the cockpit - that was legal in 1958! Today's kids can't do that, of course, but at the gate we are always willing to let them have a seat at the controls, and let mom or dad get that once-in-a-lifetime picture that just might start them on the way to their own flying career someday. Once the last of our guests have departed, we can gather up our charts, checklists and other belongings, and head for the hotel. We have to clear customs like everyone else, although in many places, Rome among them, the process is somewhat accelerated. Once through the terminal, we gather at the curb where the hotel van is already waiting for us. Now, as they say, it's Miller Time! To be continued: Join us on the Rome layover in Golden Argosy Part Three - The Glory of Rome! Anthony Vallillo avallillo@charter.net