wabpilot

Or, how not to run an airline.

It has been a while since yours truely was in the pointy end of an airliner. But, coming back from vacation, I was invited to exercise my pass privileges from the jump seat of a MD-80 from ATL to DFW. (I prefer to call it Ft. Worth International Airport, but no one else does.) I settled in the jump seat which is rather uncomfortable, but they could sell my seat to a paying customer. The back end was packed. I suppose lots of folks were trying to make it home before school started. I just hoped my snow skis made it before I did.

The crew was made up of a very experienced captain who looked like he might be retiring soon. He told me he had flown just about every type in the widget inventory, but liked the DC-9 (like me, he has a hard time referring to it as a MD-80 or a Boeing) better than most. The FO was very junior, she was fresh from regionals where she had been a captain. For my part, I kept quiet about the fact that I still instructed a few hours a month. My line having run off all its senior instructor captains is now dependent on retirees to keep the sims running. The Captain was the pilot not flying on this leg, so he was doing the talking and the FO was going to do the flying. As with most big jets, the tiller (steering wheel) is on the left, so the Captain taxis regardless.

We got our clearance and pushed on time with a full load. For my part, I was wondering just how they couldn't be making money. But, I had read an editorial from the chief widget wonder saying that little planes, corporate jets and VLJs were obstructing his magnificent flying conglomeration from reaching its profitable potential. (It couldn't be his brilliant leadership.) Maybe I shouldn't be so harsh, after all, my line took two trips to bankruptcy, one because painting our planes a different shade of blue didn't attract passnegers in droves. Could be that our new shade of blue looked a little too much like another crappy airline's shade of blue? Passengers might have confused our their lousy service, for ours? Hey, it could have happened that way. The boss sure thought it did. The other blue shade went into bankruptcy as well. Must have been the paint. Oh well, my line is repainting the airplanes again. The next time I get into aviation, it's going to be as a paint salesman. Those guys have got to be making bank! (Sherwin-Williams pension plan is much better too.)

We pushed back. The Captain and FO were watching carefully. The FO explained that the wonders at widget central had outsourced the ramp workers and they now made slightly more than minimum wage. It was considered bad form to squash one of them. The old ramp rats had been highly paid, but well trained and very experienced. They knew to stay out of the way of big planes. More important the old ramp rats knew to watch out for their birds. The new ones were just sort of standing around looking confused. I was glad to be moving forward.

ATL has lots of room between the rows of gates. In theory two planes can pass and still leave room for parking on either side. But, ATL had decided to use mostly a one way system of taxilanes. Probably to cut in half the risk of squashing ramp rats. Once on the taxiway, we joined a conga line of departing airliners. Most from widget central. But a few interlopers. I saw one of my old line's machines. It had the ugly new paint, which was slightly less ugly than the blue but easier to see than when we decided to go with bare metal. The white tops are easier to cool too, so say the HVAC geniuses.

As is required, the radar was in standby mode. Don't want to radiate a minimum wage ramp rat. So, for these poor folks, no way to get any updates on the weather. (In my corporate jet flyin' days, I would have just turned on the XM satellite radio and downloaded the RAREP imagry. Yeah, it's five minutes old, but still a lot more current than the faxed RAREP that the FO has crumpled up in her lap. It's an hour old, or more.) Taxiing a big jet is a learned talent. No need to jocky the throttles. Just a nudge gets you moving slowly. Push it too far forward and you'll only stomp on the brakes to slow down. Even the DC-9 has plenty of thrust. The Captain has a nice touch on the throttles. Our pace is even and deliberate. If I was giving him a checkride, I'd be favorably impressed at this point. He's a pro. The FO is looking sharp too. She's got her side of the pit organized and has reviewed the DP. (Departure Procedure, I still call them SIDS for Standard Instrument Departure procedureS.) They are keeping a steril cockpit, as is called for by the regs and just good practice.

In the conga line, we move deliberately toward departure. Start, stop, start, stop. There must be fifteen planes in front of us. Then, ground control calls with a ground hold. Weather to the west. The FO emits an expletive. I feel the same way. It sounds like we'll be sitting here for forty-five minutes or more. The Captain must make an announcement. I remember these, I hated them. I am not a good public speaker. I rehearsed my announcements at home and tended to say exactly the same thing on every flight. The problem for me always came when I had to make an announcement about a change in plan. But, our Captain this day knew his stuff. He briefly announced the problem and how long ATC thought the delay would take. When he turned off the PA, the FO asked him why he lied? Afterall, didn't the chief widget just say all our problems were the result of little planes? All three of us had a good laugh. It proved to be the best of the day.

Pretty soon, dispatch had come up with a re-route and it was printing out on the cockpit printer. After almost an hour, ATC got the conga line moving again. Before long, it was our turn on the runway. The Captain turned the plane over to the FO. On the Runway, she could turn on the radar. Now, for the first time in a long time we got a real time update on the weather. The storm looked like it was due west of ATL, and the proposed re-route looked like a good one. Launching, the FO was smooth, very smooth. Every motion was done with deftness. We climbed out at 250 KIAS. Even above 10,000 feet. I wondered why, but said nothing. When I was flying the Citation X, I would have transitioned to highspeed climb and boogied on up to FL510 for a long trip. The FO, must have sensed my question. She replied that "management" was restricting them to climbs at 250 KIAS until at least FL 180. A turn to the north and we were on our way, still slogging along. Too bad "management" seems to know how to fly a plane better than the pros in the pit. As it was, they gave their passengers a bumpy ride when a smoother, faster one was available.

Once at altitude, the trip became much nicer. Still slow. It's been two years since I retired from the Citation X, but it's still tough to crawl along at Mach .8 when I'm used to seeing Mach .9 or more. Oh well, the accountants know best how to save prescious fuel, so management can repaint more planes, faster. I swear I have to send Sherwin-Williams a resume.

Arrival at DFW was a snap. The FO was sharp. The Captain had all the checklists down to a fine science. The FO moved quickly through them. All along the way, it was clear that the cockpit team was first rate. She had the numbers nailed all the way to the ground and made a nice landing. I was pleased. On the ground, our gate was ready. We arrived only an hour late, so the PAX were not in a good mood. Of course they weren't stuffed with airline food, so at least they didn't have that to complain about. As we deplaned, a couple of passengers commented on the smooth landing. The Captain was gracious giving all the credit to the FO. One passenger asked who I was. (Wearing a suit in a cockpit makes PAX think you're either a sky marshal or a FAA inspector.) The Captain told him I was an airline pilot on a pass ride. (True enough, though retired from a competing line.) I thanked them for a great ride. Still its no way to run an airline.