This is a helicopter tour of Rio De Janeiro. After the first 40 seconds, I'm thinking you'll agree that the pilot is clearly insane. But it looks like a hell of a fun ride.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
Friday, June 20, 2008
A while ago, Kitsch and I went east. All praise to Kitsch for these pics btw. Click on the pics to make 'em bigger.
We were there for a few days, and decided to take a trip down the east coast.
Pretty spectacular views around here.
You can tell which way the prevailing winds blow by looking at the vaguely creepy trees.
Oh, what's this? An island you say?
To be precise...The Island Of The Damned!
Click on the pic for a closer look. Note that all the trees are dead, and there are lots of large black birds nesting in the withered stumps. This would be a perfect location for some romancing. Perhaps some local high-school kids could get drunk, climb up to the top and spend the night there having premarital sex and consuming drugs. I'm sure nothing terrible and horrifying would happen to them.
Another place that the Island Monster could store the bodies...
I briefly overcame my fear to pose for a quick shot.
I am pretty sure I shouldn't have taken that last gulp of water from the pump. My face has been numb ever since, and the walls of my apartment keep bleeding.
After escaping The Island Of The Damned, we headed back, loaded the plane with 25 lobsters, and waited for our passengers. This job is a great job, and I am a lucky guy. Except for the whole numb-faced, bleeding-wall thing :)
*Pictures taken between Bathurst and Caraquet, NB*
We were there for a few days, and decided to take a trip down the east coast.
Pretty spectacular views around here.
You can tell which way the prevailing winds blow by looking at the vaguely creepy trees.
Oh, what's this? An island you say?
To be precise...The Island Of The Damned!
Click on the pic for a closer look. Note that all the trees are dead, and there are lots of large black birds nesting in the withered stumps. This would be a perfect location for some romancing. Perhaps some local high-school kids could get drunk, climb up to the top and spend the night there having premarital sex and consuming drugs. I'm sure nothing terrible and horrifying would happen to them.
Another place that the Island Monster could store the bodies...
I briefly overcame my fear to pose for a quick shot.
I am pretty sure I shouldn't have taken that last gulp of water from the pump. My face has been numb ever since, and the walls of my apartment keep bleeding.
After escaping The Island Of The Damned, we headed back, loaded the plane with 25 lobsters, and waited for our passengers. This job is a great job, and I am a lucky guy. Except for the whole numb-faced, bleeding-wall thing :)
*Pictures taken between Bathurst and Caraquet, NB*
Thursday, June 19, 2008
I saw this on Digg, and wanted to share. The author is Patrick Smith, and it was published in Reader's Digest. I don't particularly care for the author's hating on corporate jets, but perhaps I am a wee bit biased.
Welcome aboard. Our flying time this afternoon, not counting ground delays and holding patterns, will be two hours and thirty minutes.
Before we take off, I would like to apologize on behalf of this and every airline for the hassle you just endured at the security checkpoint. As is patently obvious to any reasonable person, the humiliating shoe removals, liquids ban, and pointy-object confiscations do little to make us safer.
Unfortunately, the government insists that security theater, and not actual security, is in the nation's best interest. If it makes you feel any better, our crew had to endure the same screening as the passengers. Never mind that the baggage loaders, cleaners, caterers, and refuelers receive only occasional random screening. You can rest easy knowing that I do not have a pair of scissors or an oversize shampoo bottle anywhere in my carry-on luggage.
Just a moment.
Okay, well, as expected, we've received word of a ground stop. Our new estimated departure time is 90 minutes from now, subject to change arbitrarily, without warning.
And while we're waiting, let me explain that these sorts of delays (and it's not your imagination -- late arrivals and departures have doubled since 1995) result not only from our antiquated air traffic control system but also from too many planes flying into and out of overcrowded airports. Passengers demand frequency-you want lots of flights flying to lots of cities. But this can be self-defeating, because many of these flights will be late -- in some cases, very late. At airports near major cities like New York and Washington, D.C., the proliferation of small jets has added to the congestion. They make up nearly 50 percent of planes at some of our busiest airports yet carry only a fraction of overall passengers. This inefficient use of air and ground space is one reason we will be sitting here for the next hour and a half.
Once we're airborne, flight attendants will be coming around with food and beverages for sale. I know many of you are irritated that an in-flight meal now costs $7 -- on top of the $25 you just paid for an extra checked bag. Unfortunately, with oil prices skyrocketing and jets requiring as much fuel as ever (a coast-to-coast flight takes 8,000 gallons), it's impossible for us to provide luxurious service and rock-bottom fares at the same time. We know that most of you are miserable and that you long ago learned to despise every aspect of air travel. But try, if you can, not to take your frustrations out on other passengers or the crew. The overall surly vibe is unpleasant for us too. And ridiculous as this might sound, look on the bright side.
Yes, there is a bright side: more choices and surprisingly reasonable fares. Domestically, you can now fly between almost any two airports in the country with, at worst, a single stopover. Internationally, transoceanic routes have fragmented, allowing people to fly direct from smaller hubs in the United States to points in Europe, Asia, Latin America, and elsewhere. Nobody enjoys holding patterns or sitting on a tarmac, but in earlier days, the overall journey would have taken longer-and cost more.
It's true that fares have risen sharply of late, but if they seem especially pricey, that's partly because they remained so cheap for so long, with many carriers selling tickets below cost. Fares in 2006 were averaging 12 percent lower than in 2000, despite a 150 percent rise in jet-fuel costs.
Current fares cost about what they did in the 1980s. And let's not forget that flying is much safer than it was in the past. Globally, there are twice as many planes carrying twice as many people as there were a quarter century ago. Although the raw total of crashes has risen, accidents are way down as a percentage of total flights.
I am well aware that airlines have become pariahs of the postindustrial economy. But it's rarely acknowledged that despite recurrent fiscal crises, major staffing and technology problems, and constant criticism from the public, our carriers have managed to maintain a mostly reliable, affordable, and safe transportation system.
Hang in there, and our crew will let you know if and when our plane might actually take off. In the meantime, those $7 sandwiches are actually pretty good.
Welcome aboard. Our flying time this afternoon, not counting ground delays and holding patterns, will be two hours and thirty minutes.
Before we take off, I would like to apologize on behalf of this and every airline for the hassle you just endured at the security checkpoint. As is patently obvious to any reasonable person, the humiliating shoe removals, liquids ban, and pointy-object confiscations do little to make us safer.
Unfortunately, the government insists that security theater, and not actual security, is in the nation's best interest. If it makes you feel any better, our crew had to endure the same screening as the passengers. Never mind that the baggage loaders, cleaners, caterers, and refuelers receive only occasional random screening. You can rest easy knowing that I do not have a pair of scissors or an oversize shampoo bottle anywhere in my carry-on luggage.
Just a moment.
Okay, well, as expected, we've received word of a ground stop. Our new estimated departure time is 90 minutes from now, subject to change arbitrarily, without warning.
And while we're waiting, let me explain that these sorts of delays (and it's not your imagination -- late arrivals and departures have doubled since 1995) result not only from our antiquated air traffic control system but also from too many planes flying into and out of overcrowded airports. Passengers demand frequency-you want lots of flights flying to lots of cities. But this can be self-defeating, because many of these flights will be late -- in some cases, very late. At airports near major cities like New York and Washington, D.C., the proliferation of small jets has added to the congestion. They make up nearly 50 percent of planes at some of our busiest airports yet carry only a fraction of overall passengers. This inefficient use of air and ground space is one reason we will be sitting here for the next hour and a half.
Once we're airborne, flight attendants will be coming around with food and beverages for sale. I know many of you are irritated that an in-flight meal now costs $7 -- on top of the $25 you just paid for an extra checked bag. Unfortunately, with oil prices skyrocketing and jets requiring as much fuel as ever (a coast-to-coast flight takes 8,000 gallons), it's impossible for us to provide luxurious service and rock-bottom fares at the same time. We know that most of you are miserable and that you long ago learned to despise every aspect of air travel. But try, if you can, not to take your frustrations out on other passengers or the crew. The overall surly vibe is unpleasant for us too. And ridiculous as this might sound, look on the bright side.
Yes, there is a bright side: more choices and surprisingly reasonable fares. Domestically, you can now fly between almost any two airports in the country with, at worst, a single stopover. Internationally, transoceanic routes have fragmented, allowing people to fly direct from smaller hubs in the United States to points in Europe, Asia, Latin America, and elsewhere. Nobody enjoys holding patterns or sitting on a tarmac, but in earlier days, the overall journey would have taken longer-and cost more.
It's true that fares have risen sharply of late, but if they seem especially pricey, that's partly because they remained so cheap for so long, with many carriers selling tickets below cost. Fares in 2006 were averaging 12 percent lower than in 2000, despite a 150 percent rise in jet-fuel costs.
Current fares cost about what they did in the 1980s. And let's not forget that flying is much safer than it was in the past. Globally, there are twice as many planes carrying twice as many people as there were a quarter century ago. Although the raw total of crashes has risen, accidents are way down as a percentage of total flights.
I am well aware that airlines have become pariahs of the postindustrial economy. But it's rarely acknowledged that despite recurrent fiscal crises, major staffing and technology problems, and constant criticism from the public, our carriers have managed to maintain a mostly reliable, affordable, and safe transportation system.
Hang in there, and our crew will let you know if and when our plane might actually take off. In the meantime, those $7 sandwiches are actually pretty good.
Friday, June 13, 2008
My grandfather's name was Bill Sealey, also known as Flight Lieutenant William James Sealey. He flew in the Royal Canadian Air Force, on the C-47 Dakota, which was the military version of the DC-3.
Here's a sample pic of a C-47, for those of you who aren't familiar.
On January 19, 1946, my grandfather's C-47 left Comox, British Columbia on a flight to Greenwood, Nova Scotia. It and its crew of seven were reported missing shortly afterwards.
Around the Crowsnest Pass, people noticed smoke coming from a nearby mountain, Mt. Ptolemy, which straddles the border of British Columbia and Alberta. Though they were guided by the smoke of the burning wreckage, it took five days for the Crowsnest Pass Forest Rangers to snowshoe to the crash site because of bad weather.
The plane had collided with Mt. Ptolemy, and fallen into the valley below. There were no survivors, so the rescue team brought the bodies out on toboggans.
The men who lost their lives were: Flying Officer Robert Huycke Watt, Flying Officer James Leonard Norris, Flight Lieutenant William Joesph Woods, Flight Lieutenant William James Sealy, Sergeant Vernon Rupert Ducklow, Leading Aircraftsman Daniel Levy and Leading Aircraftsman Richard Brockwell Lowe.
The crash left my grandmother a widow with 2 small children. She didn't even qualify for a widow's pension from the DVA (Dep't of Veterans Affairs) because Grandpa Sealey had joined as a volunteer rather than being drafted. She survived by doing housekeeping for neighbors while bringing my mother and uncle along with her. Tough times, but grandma was a tough woman and she made a go of it. She remarried a few years later and had 2 more children, and together with her second husband, the man I knew as grandpa, they built a good life together on the shore of Vancouver island, near Comox. When my mother and uncle grew older, the DVA did pay for their university tuition, along with an extra $94/month to live on while attending school. They both made the most of it, and are among the smartest people out there, so thanks to the DVA for that.
Here's a link to a youtube video made by some hikers who went to check out the site, and the wreckage. Since then, a plaque has been posted to commemorate the place where my grandfather and his flying companions lost their lives.
The part I'm interested in doesn't start until 5 minutes in.
I did a google search on "Mt. Ptolemy crash" and came up with a few links from hikers who have visited the area.
Here's a link to some hi-res photos on a guy's Flickr account.
So what happened? Unfortunately, we don't really know.
I'm taking the following quote from an email from my uncle, who has done a fair amount of research on the accident.
"On the face of it -- It seems to me there was 1) a fire or mechanical failure on board; there have been a few engine or fuel line fires in the Dakota model or similar DC-3 model of planes, and this plane did in fact burn -- possibly both before and after the hit -- or perhaps more likely 2) there was icing (according to a Environment Canada weatherman who reviewed and interpreted historical weather records for that day and for several days before and after); or 3) possibly the navigator entered a false setting on the Altimeter, which although is a common error I think is unlikely but can't be ruled out, particularly because there doesn't seem to have been an emergency call, say to Calgary, before the crash.
There was likely no suffering after the crash, as the coroner's report on the crew indicated that they hit the ridge at high speed."
It's also frustrating because the crash investigation report is missing from the official files - likely filed in another binder by mistake. The trouble is, we don't know which binder and there are thousands of them.
Ever since I was a little kid I have always wanted to be a pilot, and I like to think I get my passion for aviation from my grandfather. I wish I could have met him so we could have shot the breeze, and compared flying stories. I sometimes think about what he'd make of my corporate pilot job, with all the differences and similarities from his. The technology certainly has changed, but I bet we would have found a lot of common themes, and shared a few good laughs. I would have loved to take him up for a trip in our baby jet, to show him my world, and the earth below from 40,000 feet.
But my biggest wish is this: I hope that in the giant bucket of karma that comprises the universe, his spirit somehow knows that I am following in his contrails as I burn holes through the sky. I hope he'd approve, and every time I push the throttles forward, I hope I do him proud.
Here's a sample pic of a C-47, for those of you who aren't familiar.
On January 19, 1946, my grandfather's C-47 left Comox, British Columbia on a flight to Greenwood, Nova Scotia. It and its crew of seven were reported missing shortly afterwards.
Around the Crowsnest Pass, people noticed smoke coming from a nearby mountain, Mt. Ptolemy, which straddles the border of British Columbia and Alberta. Though they were guided by the smoke of the burning wreckage, it took five days for the Crowsnest Pass Forest Rangers to snowshoe to the crash site because of bad weather.
The plane had collided with Mt. Ptolemy, and fallen into the valley below. There were no survivors, so the rescue team brought the bodies out on toboggans.
The men who lost their lives were: Flying Officer Robert Huycke Watt, Flying Officer James Leonard Norris, Flight Lieutenant William Joesph Woods, Flight Lieutenant William James Sealy, Sergeant Vernon Rupert Ducklow, Leading Aircraftsman Daniel Levy and Leading Aircraftsman Richard Brockwell Lowe.
The crash left my grandmother a widow with 2 small children. She didn't even qualify for a widow's pension from the DVA (Dep't of Veterans Affairs) because Grandpa Sealey had joined as a volunteer rather than being drafted. She survived by doing housekeeping for neighbors while bringing my mother and uncle along with her. Tough times, but grandma was a tough woman and she made a go of it. She remarried a few years later and had 2 more children, and together with her second husband, the man I knew as grandpa, they built a good life together on the shore of Vancouver island, near Comox. When my mother and uncle grew older, the DVA did pay for their university tuition, along with an extra $94/month to live on while attending school. They both made the most of it, and are among the smartest people out there, so thanks to the DVA for that.
Here's a link to a youtube video made by some hikers who went to check out the site, and the wreckage. Since then, a plaque has been posted to commemorate the place where my grandfather and his flying companions lost their lives.
The part I'm interested in doesn't start until 5 minutes in.
I did a google search on "Mt. Ptolemy crash" and came up with a few links from hikers who have visited the area.
Here's a link to some hi-res photos on a guy's Flickr account.
So what happened? Unfortunately, we don't really know.
I'm taking the following quote from an email from my uncle, who has done a fair amount of research on the accident.
"On the face of it -- It seems to me there was 1) a fire or mechanical failure on board; there have been a few engine or fuel line fires in the Dakota model or similar DC-3 model of planes, and this plane did in fact burn -- possibly both before and after the hit -- or perhaps more likely 2) there was icing (according to a Environment Canada weatherman who reviewed and interpreted historical weather records for that day and for several days before and after); or 3) possibly the navigator entered a false setting on the Altimeter, which although is a common error I think is unlikely but can't be ruled out, particularly because there doesn't seem to have been an emergency call, say to Calgary, before the crash.
There was likely no suffering after the crash, as the coroner's report on the crew indicated that they hit the ridge at high speed."
It's also frustrating because the crash investigation report is missing from the official files - likely filed in another binder by mistake. The trouble is, we don't know which binder and there are thousands of them.
Ever since I was a little kid I have always wanted to be a pilot, and I like to think I get my passion for aviation from my grandfather. I wish I could have met him so we could have shot the breeze, and compared flying stories. I sometimes think about what he'd make of my corporate pilot job, with all the differences and similarities from his. The technology certainly has changed, but I bet we would have found a lot of common themes, and shared a few good laughs. I would have loved to take him up for a trip in our baby jet, to show him my world, and the earth below from 40,000 feet.
But my biggest wish is this: I hope that in the giant bucket of karma that comprises the universe, his spirit somehow knows that I am following in his contrails as I burn holes through the sky. I hope he'd approve, and every time I push the throttles forward, I hope I do him proud.
Friday, June 06, 2008
Want to see more than a billion dollars go up in smoke? How about from 2 different angles? Read on...
The second plane in this video, a B-2 bomber operated by the US Air Force went boom on takeoff in Guam. Apparently the air data computers got a little confused as to the difference between up and down.
Apparently the crew didn't turn on the pitot heat before calibrating their air data computers, and moisture in the units made the computers chuck a fit, sending the plan into the ground. The crew both ejected and lived, though the f/o suffered a spinal compression fracture, which I'm sure isn't much fun.
Nothing $1.2 billion more won't fix.
That same amount would provide $50,000 university scholarships to 24,000 people. It seems like an incredible waste of money for a single airplane, but I guess I just have my priorities wrong.
The video is a bit jerky and annoying, but it's certainly interesting viewing.
Here's a second angle that cuts out right as the wing hits the ground...
More on the story here:
http://www.af.mil/news/story.asp?id=123101727
The second plane in this video, a B-2 bomber operated by the US Air Force went boom on takeoff in Guam. Apparently the air data computers got a little confused as to the difference between up and down.
Apparently the crew didn't turn on the pitot heat before calibrating their air data computers, and moisture in the units made the computers chuck a fit, sending the plan into the ground. The crew both ejected and lived, though the f/o suffered a spinal compression fracture, which I'm sure isn't much fun.
Nothing $1.2 billion more won't fix.
That same amount would provide $50,000 university scholarships to 24,000 people. It seems like an incredible waste of money for a single airplane, but I guess I just have my priorities wrong.
The video is a bit jerky and annoying, but it's certainly interesting viewing.
Here's a second angle that cuts out right as the wing hits the ground...
More on the story here:
http://www.af.mil/news/story.asp?id=123101727
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Of course we met at the airport, part 2.
I was flying cargo in a Beech 58 Baron out of Goderich when Lisa and I met 8 years ago. I got up the courage to ask her if she wanted to go for a plane ride, and she accepted...
I picked up the cargo boxes from the factory, then drove to the airport and loaded them into the nose of my beloved Baron. I saw Lisa in the main terminal, so after I was done loading the boxes, I casually and nonchalantly walked over to her. I had my lines all picked out, and the world was about to witness how smooth and suave I could be.
"Sooo, I see you are hanging around the airport. I guess you couldn't stay away from me eh? Well, the weather is perfect so if you still want to come with me to Hamilton, we can go whenever you are ready."
"First of all, I work at the airport, remember? That's why I'm here - I'm not just waiting around for you. In fact, I'm not actually off for another half-hour. But if you want to wait for me, I would like to go for a flight."
My face burned as hot as a thousand suns, but I kept it together.
"Umm, sure. A half-hour won't hurt. I umm have to do some flight planning anyway and stuff and other things that will take precisely a half-hour also, so umm yeah, I will get back to finishing off those things and then meet you at the plane in half an hour. 'Cause I have lots of important flying things to get ready. Righty-o, see you in 30 minutes. Then we'll go flying. To Hamilton. In 30 minutes. Half an hour."
She raised an eyebrow and smiled a little. I bit my tongue so I'd stop talking, then slowly walked away like I had something to do. Like I said, smooth and suave.
Time passed, up to and including the 30 minutes I had so eloquently discussed.
Lisa walked over to the plane.
"Hi Sully, I'm ready to go now. Hey, don't you wear a uniform?"
I looked at her, looking at my sandals and shorts and Skinny Puppy t-shirt.
"Umm, I fly cargo mostly. The uniform isn't important. I hate wearing a tie anyway."
"Pilot uniforms are hot."
"I will wear one from now on, even when I'm not flying"
She laughed, and I fell further in love.
Now a couple of minor things to note: This was May 2000, and things at small airports were considerably more relaxed than they are now. The main runway in Goderich is runway 13/31, and normally we use runway 31 for takeoff and landing. At the end of runway 31 is a steep cliff, followed by Lake Huron. My boss worked in a building right on the shoreline, and frequently on departure I would keep the plane low, then skim out over the water and parallel the shoreline until I streaked past the boss's office at a great rate of speed. Then I would pull up, hang a left and head toward Hamilton. It took maybe 20 extra seconds, my boss enjoyed it, and it was hella fun.
I gave Lisa the safety briefing, including the part "If the door pops open right as we take off, that's pretty much normal in a Baron. There's no danger, and we'll just come back around and land." Now that I think about it, maybe that's not as confidence-inspiring as I meant it to be.
I told Lisa that the Baron is fairly overpowered for a light piston twin, and that the plane handled like a sports car. I did a static runup on the runway, then let go of the brakes and pulled the trigger. PAA launched forward like a greyhound (the dog, not the bus) and we were airborne in a few seconds, skimming out over Lake Huron, then hanging a left and flying across from the main beach in Goderich, out over the water enough to make it legal. I looked over at Lisa. She was waving at the people on the beach, and seemed to be enjoying herself.
The plane was light and we accelerated to 180 knots very quickly, so I decided to show off a little more. Once we were done the tour of the beach, I pulled back to maybe a 30-degree climb, and we hauled ass skyward. We climbed a thousand feet in a few seconds, and then I decided to show Lisa the zero-G trick, so I pushed forward on the controls. As the nose fell below the horizon, we were weightless for a few seconds. Lisa laughed as my lucky clearance-writing pen floated in midair between us. I heard a muffled clunk up in the nose, or maybe it was just a random airplane noise. After a few seconds of weightlessness I had to pull the nose up again, and I started to fly toward Hamilton like a normal pilot might.
On the way there I showed Lisa the controls and instruments, and pointed out Stratford and Kitchener and Toronto in the distance as we got closer and closer to Hamilton.
"So when we land, we go to the UPS ramp. We are by far the smallest airplane that hauls cargo there, which is kind of cool because when it rains I can actually park under the wings of the 757's at the UPS ramp and stay dry."
"Hmm. Most of the pilots I have met say bigger is better. And here you are, saying that small can be good too. What am I going to do with you, Mr. Sully."
I tried not to lose control of the airplane, and actually had a decent landing. We taxiied over to UPS and hopped out. I introduced her to the glassy-eyed ramp rats, and went to the nose of the plane to get the boxes out.
"Okay, Lisa, I'll just be a few seconds unloading, then we can taxi over to the Tim Horton's at the other end of the field, grab a couple of iced cappucinos and blast off for home. Just as soon as I get the nose door open. Hmm, it's sticking a little."
In fact, the nose cargo door was completely jammed. When I had shown off to Lisa after takeoff and done the zero-g trick, the cargo in the nose had also become weightless, which enabled it shift inside the nose in such a way as to settle on top of the inner latches, preventing them from snapping open.
Our nightly cargo was stuck inside the plane and we had no way to get it out.
The ramp rats tried to slide thin metal strips between the latches to pop them open, but nothing would work. They even called over a 757 mechanic to come take a look. He fiddled with it for a long while, then said "It's screwed. Go home." and walked away.
Shame-faced, I told the ramp rats that we would head back to Goderich to get the nose compartment fixed "The locks must be stuck or something. The mechanic at our home base should have told me they were sticking!" I faked outrage.
Of course by then it would be too late for my plane's cargo to get on the 757's that would take it all across the world, meaning the boxes would sit at the Goderich airport overnight and come on the following night's cargo run. Not a desirable outcome for the customers who paid extra to have their boxes flown to Hamilton to make tonight's 757 flights.
Anyway, Lisa and I loaded back up into the plane and departed back to Goderich, with our precious cargo still in G-PAA's nose It was almost dusk and the skies were clear, so we watched the sunset turn the sky red and gold.
I waited a few minutes before I confessed to her "When I did the weightless thing the cargo shifted and..." She had a good laugh, which then turned to worry.
"Are you going to get fired?"
"I don't think so. I'm probably going to get yelled at for showing off though"
"Awwww...you were showing off for me?"
"Yes. Yes I was. I wanted you to think I was dazzling and amazing and now I feel like a complete tool"
"Well I thought the zero-g thing was pretty cool. But you don't have to try to impress me, I already like you"
As we flew home in silence we watched the moon and stars move in the heavens, then a brief flash of a meteor as it burned across the horizon, winking out as the ball of flame became a cinder.
"Quick! Make a wish!"
"I already did"
Her hand reached over to mine.
The next day, I got a phone call from our mechanic. It took him 6 hours to remove the main nosecone and then de-rivet one of the latches so he could pop the nose cargo compartment open. "Did you bring a girl with you last night? That's the only thing I can think of that would cause you to do something that stupid." Yes, he actually said that. He then continued to chew my ass for quite a while.
And I would do it all over again in a millisecond.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
This King Air has a particularly nasty gear failure, with only the nosegear being available. The story goes that the wheels came off the King Air when it went to land the first time, but I have no details. If you watch the video to the end, there is a quick shot of a piece of landing gear laying on the runway, but no back-story.
I thought the guy was gonna lose it, but it turns out pretty well.
"Raw video,May 06/08:The wheels came off the plane when the pilot tried to land at Dunn Airpark in Titusville,Florida. He was able to land the plane on a grassy landing strip on a second attempt.
One other person was on board. They were both reportedly okay."
I thought the guy was gonna lose it, but it turns out pretty well.
"Raw video,May 06/08:The wheels came off the plane when the pilot tried to land at Dunn Airpark in Titusville,Florida. He was able to land the plane on a grassy landing strip on a second attempt.
One other person was on board. They were both reportedly okay."
Saturday, May 03, 2008
One more post then I'll stop.
It made me happy and I wanted to share.
We have gone carbon-neutral. From now on, every hour we fly, we pay TerraPass to offset our carbon emissions. Even in our light jet, 2 hours of operation generates the same amount of C02 as a year's worth of running my Honda Civic Hybrid, so I wanted to do something about that.
Our parent company is in the business of alternate power generation, and it made sense to keep in line with that corporate culture, as well as making me feel a little less ashamed of the state I'll be leaving the planet in for my children and grandchildren.
This system isn't perfect, and I understand that. In a perfect world we would be able to use non-polluting fuel, and our carbon emissions would be zero. That option is not available to us currently, and until it is, this is one of the things we can do.
I would be interested in listening to what you think we could do in addition to our carbon offsets - I am always on the lookout for ways to minimize our environmental impact.
I am not forgetting about what we are doing to the environment, which is why we initiated carbon offsets. I am still conscious that it is a bit of a shell game - it's not like the carbon is being captured or anything, but we are paying for others to reduce their CO2 emissions while we wait for the technology to become available to actually reduce ours.
We hope to do more in the future, but I think this is a decent start. If you fly, I encourage you to research carbon offsets. The cost is a lot lower than you might think - through TerraPass, our cost works out to about $17/hour for 160 gallons/hour of Jet-A. A small price to pay, really.
It made me happy and I wanted to share.
We have gone carbon-neutral. From now on, every hour we fly, we pay TerraPass to offset our carbon emissions. Even in our light jet, 2 hours of operation generates the same amount of C02 as a year's worth of running my Honda Civic Hybrid, so I wanted to do something about that.
Our parent company is in the business of alternate power generation, and it made sense to keep in line with that corporate culture, as well as making me feel a little less ashamed of the state I'll be leaving the planet in for my children and grandchildren.
This system isn't perfect, and I understand that. In a perfect world we would be able to use non-polluting fuel, and our carbon emissions would be zero. That option is not available to us currently, and until it is, this is one of the things we can do.
I would be interested in listening to what you think we could do in addition to our carbon offsets - I am always on the lookout for ways to minimize our environmental impact.
I am not forgetting about what we are doing to the environment, which is why we initiated carbon offsets. I am still conscious that it is a bit of a shell game - it's not like the carbon is being captured or anything, but we are paying for others to reduce their CO2 emissions while we wait for the technology to become available to actually reduce ours.
We hope to do more in the future, but I think this is a decent start. If you fly, I encourage you to research carbon offsets. The cost is a lot lower than you might think - through TerraPass, our cost works out to about $17/hour for 160 gallons/hour of Jet-A. A small price to pay, really.
Aight, this is my third post for today.
A few weeks ago, I slept under a Vampire's wing. And it was awesome!
I did a trip from Toronto to Hamilton (distance maybe 40 miles), taking some cub scouts and their parents to the Canadian Warplane Heritage Museum at the Hamilton airport. For a sleepover!
The museum has a great program called "Night Operations" where they allow various groups to bring sleeping bags and sleep under the wings of warbirds.
On the way to Hamilton, Toronto ATC let us circle the CN Tower at only a few thousand feet, and the kids in the back loved it. Except for the one kid who barfed during the 12 minute flight, but what can you do - kids barf over just about everything.
Anyhoo, we landed in Hamilton and headed over to the museum. The client offered a hotel room for me, but there was no way I was going to pass up the opportunity to watch 200 kids run amok all night in the museum, so I packed my sleeping bag and joined the group.
The staff at the museum were absolutely excellent - they did a presentation on the basics of flight, then gave the kids little foam gliders to toss about the main museum hangar.
Picture a couple of hundred little kids and parents running around with foam gliders, flinging them with glee. Absolutely hilarious.
After what seemed like just a few minutes it was time for pizza, then bed.
Notice how I didn't say "sleep", as that was impossible after the kids were so wired up, but it was worth it.
One thing that I did find amusing was that at 3:14 am I heard the unmistakable sound of an MU-2 medevac plane landing and watched it taxi by to drop off their patient. I don't miss those all-nighters at all.
We flew home the next day morning, bleary-eyed but happy knowing that a new generation of people just got bit by the flying bug. I wonder what form aviation will take in the next 30 years - I think the industry is going to be profoundly different from the way it was just a couple of years ago, but I have no idea what form it will take.
A few weeks ago, I slept under a Vampire's wing. And it was awesome!
I did a trip from Toronto to Hamilton (distance maybe 40 miles), taking some cub scouts and their parents to the Canadian Warplane Heritage Museum at the Hamilton airport. For a sleepover!
The museum has a great program called "Night Operations" where they allow various groups to bring sleeping bags and sleep under the wings of warbirds.
On the way to Hamilton, Toronto ATC let us circle the CN Tower at only a few thousand feet, and the kids in the back loved it. Except for the one kid who barfed during the 12 minute flight, but what can you do - kids barf over just about everything.
Anyhoo, we landed in Hamilton and headed over to the museum. The client offered a hotel room for me, but there was no way I was going to pass up the opportunity to watch 200 kids run amok all night in the museum, so I packed my sleeping bag and joined the group.
The staff at the museum were absolutely excellent - they did a presentation on the basics of flight, then gave the kids little foam gliders to toss about the main museum hangar.
Picture a couple of hundred little kids and parents running around with foam gliders, flinging them with glee. Absolutely hilarious.
After what seemed like just a few minutes it was time for pizza, then bed.
Notice how I didn't say "sleep", as that was impossible after the kids were so wired up, but it was worth it.
One thing that I did find amusing was that at 3:14 am I heard the unmistakable sound of an MU-2 medevac plane landing and watched it taxi by to drop off their patient. I don't miss those all-nighters at all.
We flew home the next day morning, bleary-eyed but happy knowing that a new generation of people just got bit by the flying bug. I wonder what form aviation will take in the next 30 years - I think the industry is going to be profoundly different from the way it was just a couple of years ago, but I have no idea what form it will take.
Now my second post for today is a completely different topic, and I'm curious as to what you think.
Suppose we had a client in the past that used our aircraft on a semi-regular basis. Suppose they decided to go elsewhere for their aviation needs. Suppose I contacted them later on to remind them we would be delighted to have them rejoin us, and asking them to consider us for future business.
Suppose I got a phone call from an angry manager of the other flying service, telling me I was unprofessional in contacting our old clients now that they were dealing primarily with the other flying service.
Am I being unprofessional? My take on it is that we had a prior business relationship with the client, and anyway it's just straight-up competition.
It is kind of a grey area to me - the aviation community is pretty small in Toronto, and we all have to work together even though we all sort of have love-hate relationships with each other. Our lives would be easier if we were the only operation in town, but it's also nice to have other operators to help us out of our plane goes mechanical, or if we need to borrow a pilot etc.
So I'm not sure what the rules are. Is it acceptable to approach past clients who currently use another operator? Is it acceptable to approach clients who are new to us, but who are already being serviced by another charter operator? What if we don't know they are being serviced by another operator and we happen to cold-call them? What if we do know they are being serviced by another operator?
Right now my rule of thumb is that we don't approach clients who are sub-chartered to us from another operator (maybe the other operator's plane is broken, or they are busy that day or whatever, so they have to farm the business out to us), but everything else is fair game.
What do you think? What are the proper ethics? I want to run an ethical operation, but I also want to expand our business.
Suppose we had a client in the past that used our aircraft on a semi-regular basis. Suppose they decided to go elsewhere for their aviation needs. Suppose I contacted them later on to remind them we would be delighted to have them rejoin us, and asking them to consider us for future business.
Suppose I got a phone call from an angry manager of the other flying service, telling me I was unprofessional in contacting our old clients now that they were dealing primarily with the other flying service.
Am I being unprofessional? My take on it is that we had a prior business relationship with the client, and anyway it's just straight-up competition.
It is kind of a grey area to me - the aviation community is pretty small in Toronto, and we all have to work together even though we all sort of have love-hate relationships with each other. Our lives would be easier if we were the only operation in town, but it's also nice to have other operators to help us out of our plane goes mechanical, or if we need to borrow a pilot etc.
So I'm not sure what the rules are. Is it acceptable to approach past clients who currently use another operator? Is it acceptable to approach clients who are new to us, but who are already being serviced by another charter operator? What if we don't know they are being serviced by another operator and we happen to cold-call them? What if we do know they are being serviced by another operator?
Right now my rule of thumb is that we don't approach clients who are sub-chartered to us from another operator (maybe the other operator's plane is broken, or they are busy that day or whatever, so they have to farm the business out to us), but everything else is fair game.
What do you think? What are the proper ethics? I want to run an ethical operation, but I also want to expand our business.
Lots of random thoughts today:
A few weekends ago Kitsch and I went into Augusta, taking some folks to the Masters Golf Tournament. I just don't get golf, but maybe I'm not in the proper tax bracket to fully appreciate it. On a side note, it's funny how many sports are variations of "hit the ball with the stick". Baseball, golf, hockey, bowling (hit the sticks with the ball), lacrosse, cricket, billiards (fancy name for 'pool'), tennis (bigger stick).
I must say, the operation at KAGS Bush Field in Augusta was incredibly well-run. The folks who work at the FBO there did an amazing job of organizing a few hundred pilots and airplanes, and it was entirely painless. Fuel was fast and efficient, parking was effortless, and they got us a GPU when we asked for one. Whoever designed the airport plan for the Masters tourney should be recognized and awarded a gold star or two. My only remark is that it would be nice to have customs on the field there, at least for the Masters week.
Anyway, after making sure our passengers were taken care of, we rented a car and drove the 90 minutes to Columbia, South Carolina. In Augusta, we could stay at the 1-star Super 8 motel for $450/night each, or we could drive to Columbia and stay at the Marriott for $129/night each. And to be honest, the city of Augusta is kind of a dump so we weren't too upset about the drive.
Why do we even care about a few hundred bucks when a flight like this will run into the tens of thousands of dollars? Well, our boss is a genius - our latest contract includes profit-sharing, which means about 10% of my income is based on whether or not we make money. It's calculated so that things like maintenance / training / aircraft supplies etc. aren't included, which is good as it would make for a pretty big conflict of interest if my compensation was affected by aircraft repairs etc.
Now our operation is structured to basically break even on all the flights we do for our parent company, so that essentially means our opportunity for profit is based on the charters we do. With the price of fuel approaching $8/gallon at the major centers, we now tanker fuel from home base and plan to land at max landing weight at all our destinations so we don't have to uplift any more expensive gas than is necessary.
That being said, we certainly don't skimp on fuel either. My personal comfort zone is to take about an hour's more fuel on top of our legal requirements for all our flights, and I'm not going to change that no matter what it costs.
But if I see an opportunity for an easy cost saving like driving 90 mins to save $700 on hotels, that's a no-brainer. I don't mind exploring the local countryside, and both Kitsch and I will squeal with delight when we get some of that money back on next year's bonus cheque.
Anyway, we arrive in Columbia, South Carolina. We check into the local Marriott and head out for a meal. We come upon a mom n' pop restaurant and decide to roll the dice. I should have known better after reading the sign on the front door. "In the interest of friendliness, we will serve all people who come through these doors, regardless of race, color or creed." You know you're in the south when....
A few weekends ago Kitsch and I went into Augusta, taking some folks to the Masters Golf Tournament. I just don't get golf, but maybe I'm not in the proper tax bracket to fully appreciate it. On a side note, it's funny how many sports are variations of "hit the ball with the stick". Baseball, golf, hockey, bowling (hit the sticks with the ball), lacrosse, cricket, billiards (fancy name for 'pool'), tennis (bigger stick).
I must say, the operation at KAGS Bush Field in Augusta was incredibly well-run. The folks who work at the FBO there did an amazing job of organizing a few hundred pilots and airplanes, and it was entirely painless. Fuel was fast and efficient, parking was effortless, and they got us a GPU when we asked for one. Whoever designed the airport plan for the Masters tourney should be recognized and awarded a gold star or two. My only remark is that it would be nice to have customs on the field there, at least for the Masters week.
Anyway, after making sure our passengers were taken care of, we rented a car and drove the 90 minutes to Columbia, South Carolina. In Augusta, we could stay at the 1-star Super 8 motel for $450/night each, or we could drive to Columbia and stay at the Marriott for $129/night each. And to be honest, the city of Augusta is kind of a dump so we weren't too upset about the drive.
Why do we even care about a few hundred bucks when a flight like this will run into the tens of thousands of dollars? Well, our boss is a genius - our latest contract includes profit-sharing, which means about 10% of my income is based on whether or not we make money. It's calculated so that things like maintenance / training / aircraft supplies etc. aren't included, which is good as it would make for a pretty big conflict of interest if my compensation was affected by aircraft repairs etc.
Now our operation is structured to basically break even on all the flights we do for our parent company, so that essentially means our opportunity for profit is based on the charters we do. With the price of fuel approaching $8/gallon at the major centers, we now tanker fuel from home base and plan to land at max landing weight at all our destinations so we don't have to uplift any more expensive gas than is necessary.
That being said, we certainly don't skimp on fuel either. My personal comfort zone is to take about an hour's more fuel on top of our legal requirements for all our flights, and I'm not going to change that no matter what it costs.
But if I see an opportunity for an easy cost saving like driving 90 mins to save $700 on hotels, that's a no-brainer. I don't mind exploring the local countryside, and both Kitsch and I will squeal with delight when we get some of that money back on next year's bonus cheque.
Anyway, we arrive in Columbia, South Carolina. We check into the local Marriott and head out for a meal. We come upon a mom n' pop restaurant and decide to roll the dice. I should have known better after reading the sign on the front door. "In the interest of friendliness, we will serve all people who come through these doors, regardless of race, color or creed." You know you're in the south when....
Friday, April 11, 2008
//Shameless promotion coming up...
I got a bunny hug in the mail the other day. You know, a fleecy pullover with a hood - the folks here in Ontario call it a hoodie, but the correct term is Bunny Hug, now and forever. Anyhoo, I wasn't expecting this gift, so I was a little puzzled. Within the package was a little note...
"I saw your blood-drenched photo on your blog. You have the perfect psycho smile, so I used your photo in a poster for our new play. Here's a bunny hug for your troubles"
Here's the original pic I posted, from when Lisa took me to see Evil Dead: The Musical
Here's a small pic of the poster. I'm immortal now!
The theatre company is Spectral Theatre, based in Vancouver BC.
Check 'em out if you happen to be in the area, and let me know how the play is. It looks spooky, which is right up my alley.
The only thing I wonder about is, if I had the perfect psycho smile, why did he remove my head? I'm not just a sexy, blood-drenched piece of meat, I have a sexy-blood drenched brain too :)
I got a bunny hug in the mail the other day. You know, a fleecy pullover with a hood - the folks here in Ontario call it a hoodie, but the correct term is Bunny Hug, now and forever. Anyhoo, I wasn't expecting this gift, so I was a little puzzled. Within the package was a little note...
"I saw your blood-drenched photo on your blog. You have the perfect psycho smile, so I used your photo in a poster for our new play. Here's a bunny hug for your troubles"
Here's the original pic I posted, from when Lisa took me to see Evil Dead: The Musical
Here's a small pic of the poster. I'm immortal now!
The theatre company is Spectral Theatre, based in Vancouver BC.
Check 'em out if you happen to be in the area, and let me know how the play is. It looks spooky, which is right up my alley.
The only thing I wonder about is, if I had the perfect psycho smile, why did he remove my head? I'm not just a sexy, blood-drenched piece of meat, I have a sexy-blood drenched brain too :)
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
A friend of mine, who we will call First Officer X (She's in the left seat now), wrote a story about a flying incident that happened to her a few years back. I thought it was pretty gripping, and I bet you do too. I'm posting this with her permission.
--------------------
The night of ice.
It was late winter in 2002. I was a first officer on a piston twin engine aircraft. Working medevacs.
We had a nice long day planned. The weather was fairly decent, but there was icing in cloud forecast. In the type of airplane we were flying you had to be on the ball about that, as piston engines are less powerful than the turbine engines, and they generally fly at lower altitudes, which is where the ice is.
There had been issues with the de ice equipment recently, but when it was checked on the ground prior to the flight it seemed to be functioning properly.
The first leg was to Ottawa. En route we start picking up some ice, and the wing boots seemed to be doing their job. (there are also boots on the tail, but you cannot see then from the cockpit, that will come into play later). The ice is not that bad, and in about an hour we arrive at our destination.
Once we get out of the plane we can see there might be a bit of a problem. The wing ice boots were working fine. But the tail boots....they were not working. The tail was covered in ice, which is not good. We call for the deice truck and go into the FBO to discuss the situation. And the situation is this. We can continue, as long as we remain clear of icing conditions. So, as long as the ceiling stays high enough for us to stay clear, we are good to continue for the day. The decision is made to continue.
Next leg it to 'some town somewhere' (STSW). We manage to stay clear of cloud on this leg, so things are looking up.
Then back to Ottawa. Manage to stay clear of cloud again. Everything looks to be going swimmingly. Or so it would seem.
Back to STSW. This time, as we are approaching the airport we are unable to stay clear of cloud, and pick up a bit of ice, but not much. This causes the Captain to come down with a case of the 'stupids'. Even though we cannot stay clear of cloud, he has decided that there 'really isn't much ice in there', so we will keep going. We have two more legs to complete for the day. I am starting to get a bad feeling, but since he is far more experienced than me, I stupidly follow.
As we taxi out for the next leg to 'Another town somewhere'(ATSW) I happen to hear a friend of mine flying another plane into the area we are, from the place we are going. He hears where we are going on the radio, and makes a call to me to warn us of freezing rain he encountered at 3500'. I express concern to my captain, who tells me that my friend is obviously not nearly as intelligent as he is, and that it is too cold for there to be freezing rain. AT this point the little man in my head is starting to complain rather loudly to me that this might be a stupid idea.
We blast off for ATSW.
It is only a short flight, maybe 30 min. Shortly after take off we start picking up ice. A lot of ice. I comment about the fact that our airspeed is getting quite low (because we are dragging our asses, covered in ice). The captain looks out the window and states that 'it doens't look too bad to him'. We continue.
Once we arrive at our destination I can see there are serious problems. The entire plane is caked in ice. The tail being the worst since it's deice equipment is not working. But the rest was pretty bad too. I head out with a broom handle to bash the ice off the tail, while I think about what I would like to do. The airport manager comes out and comments that he has never seen this much ice on an airplane before, ever. I agree that it is pretty bad. When I am done removing the ice I head inside to see what the plans are. I am hoping that he will say that we are staying the night and that we can fly back tomorrow when there is no cloud.
Wrong.
He has spoken to the boss, and they have decided that we will continue on and get back to our base. That means at least 1.5 hours in the ice, instead of the 30 min we have just completed. I am not happy about this, and we get into a screaming match in front of everyone. Classy. Eventually I give in and get into the plane. Though I am NOT happy about it. It is my leg to fly, but I refuse, stating that since my input was not required while making the decision to do this leg, I will not fly. I am a passenger. What else can I do, besides stay there, alone, cold, with no where to go.
We take off.
We start picking up ice.
Lots of ice.
We change altitude.
Still more ice.
We are now unable to maintain altitude.
Descend.
The captain comments that it 'doesnt' look as bad as the last leg'. I point out that we have an ever lower airspeed that before, and are using a higher power setting on the engines. In fact, we are at max power.
We are now drifting down towards the ground, the windshield caked in ice so bad we can barely see out. The ice on the wings extends back a foot and a half back from the boots. I feel ill imagining what the tail is looking like. We are inching closer and closer to a tail stall, I can just feel it.
The tail surfaces of an airplane will normally ice much sooner than the wing; this is particularly important to pilots. If the tail stalls due to ice and the airflow disruption it causes, the down force is suddenly removed and the aircraft will pitch down rapidly! At low altitudes, recovery is unlikely
And we are low. Now we are under 2000'.
My hands are starting to sweat.
I tell the captain that STSW is just a few miles off our nose, and that I feel we should land. He argues with me for a bit, then finally relenting. I request direct STSW from the controllers.
As we continue our decent we start briefing the landing. Fortunately STSW is a former military airport, so the runway is 11 000 ft long.
As we slow on final the plane is shuddering. I am sure that we are moments from meeting the ground in a way I am not really looking forward to.
The captain calls for flaps. It is now that I should mention that if you have an airplane covered in ice, and it is STILL flying, AND you have a 11000' runway, there is NO WAY you should change the configuration of the aircraft. The only purpose flaps have is to shorten the landing distance of the aircraft. We do not need a short roll out. The captain is a moron. I realize this completely now.
I don't answer. He calls for flaps again. I tell him that there is no way in hell I am putting down the flaps (for the reasons explained above). He tells me that we ARE using flaps, and there is nothing I can do about it.
I inform him that if he goes near the flap switch I will break his arm. He understands that I am not kidding. The approach is continued without the use of flaps.
On very short final the plane gives one final shudder and decides it is done flying. We arrive very firmly on the runway. We cannot see out the windows. Slowly we taxi our way to the ramp. In the dark.
Once we get out of the airplane we see the truth. There is really no way we should have still been able to stay in the air. The plane looks like a fire hose has been sprayed on it in a deep freeze. There is a foot and half on the nose. It goes all the way up, covering the entire plane. The wings are covered with 2 inch ridges that extend back a few feet. The tail is covered with 5-6 inches of ice.
I feel sick.
The captain turns green.
We go to the bar and get drunk and I am glad to be alive.
And I didn't fly with that captain again.
------------------------
--------------------
The night of ice.
It was late winter in 2002. I was a first officer on a piston twin engine aircraft. Working medevacs.
We had a nice long day planned. The weather was fairly decent, but there was icing in cloud forecast. In the type of airplane we were flying you had to be on the ball about that, as piston engines are less powerful than the turbine engines, and they generally fly at lower altitudes, which is where the ice is.
There had been issues with the de ice equipment recently, but when it was checked on the ground prior to the flight it seemed to be functioning properly.
The first leg was to Ottawa. En route we start picking up some ice, and the wing boots seemed to be doing their job. (there are also boots on the tail, but you cannot see then from the cockpit, that will come into play later). The ice is not that bad, and in about an hour we arrive at our destination.
Once we get out of the plane we can see there might be a bit of a problem. The wing ice boots were working fine. But the tail boots....they were not working. The tail was covered in ice, which is not good. We call for the deice truck and go into the FBO to discuss the situation. And the situation is this. We can continue, as long as we remain clear of icing conditions. So, as long as the ceiling stays high enough for us to stay clear, we are good to continue for the day. The decision is made to continue.
Next leg it to 'some town somewhere' (STSW). We manage to stay clear of cloud on this leg, so things are looking up.
Then back to Ottawa. Manage to stay clear of cloud again. Everything looks to be going swimmingly. Or so it would seem.
Back to STSW. This time, as we are approaching the airport we are unable to stay clear of cloud, and pick up a bit of ice, but not much. This causes the Captain to come down with a case of the 'stupids'. Even though we cannot stay clear of cloud, he has decided that there 'really isn't much ice in there', so we will keep going. We have two more legs to complete for the day. I am starting to get a bad feeling, but since he is far more experienced than me, I stupidly follow.
As we taxi out for the next leg to 'Another town somewhere'(ATSW) I happen to hear a friend of mine flying another plane into the area we are, from the place we are going. He hears where we are going on the radio, and makes a call to me to warn us of freezing rain he encountered at 3500'. I express concern to my captain, who tells me that my friend is obviously not nearly as intelligent as he is, and that it is too cold for there to be freezing rain. AT this point the little man in my head is starting to complain rather loudly to me that this might be a stupid idea.
We blast off for ATSW.
It is only a short flight, maybe 30 min. Shortly after take off we start picking up ice. A lot of ice. I comment about the fact that our airspeed is getting quite low (because we are dragging our asses, covered in ice). The captain looks out the window and states that 'it doens't look too bad to him'. We continue.
Once we arrive at our destination I can see there are serious problems. The entire plane is caked in ice. The tail being the worst since it's deice equipment is not working. But the rest was pretty bad too. I head out with a broom handle to bash the ice off the tail, while I think about what I would like to do. The airport manager comes out and comments that he has never seen this much ice on an airplane before, ever. I agree that it is pretty bad. When I am done removing the ice I head inside to see what the plans are. I am hoping that he will say that we are staying the night and that we can fly back tomorrow when there is no cloud.
Wrong.
He has spoken to the boss, and they have decided that we will continue on and get back to our base. That means at least 1.5 hours in the ice, instead of the 30 min we have just completed. I am not happy about this, and we get into a screaming match in front of everyone. Classy. Eventually I give in and get into the plane. Though I am NOT happy about it. It is my leg to fly, but I refuse, stating that since my input was not required while making the decision to do this leg, I will not fly. I am a passenger. What else can I do, besides stay there, alone, cold, with no where to go.
We take off.
We start picking up ice.
Lots of ice.
We change altitude.
Still more ice.
We are now unable to maintain altitude.
Descend.
The captain comments that it 'doesnt' look as bad as the last leg'. I point out that we have an ever lower airspeed that before, and are using a higher power setting on the engines. In fact, we are at max power.
We are now drifting down towards the ground, the windshield caked in ice so bad we can barely see out. The ice on the wings extends back a foot and a half back from the boots. I feel ill imagining what the tail is looking like. We are inching closer and closer to a tail stall, I can just feel it.
The tail surfaces of an airplane will normally ice much sooner than the wing; this is particularly important to pilots. If the tail stalls due to ice and the airflow disruption it causes, the down force is suddenly removed and the aircraft will pitch down rapidly! At low altitudes, recovery is unlikely
And we are low. Now we are under 2000'.
My hands are starting to sweat.
I tell the captain that STSW is just a few miles off our nose, and that I feel we should land. He argues with me for a bit, then finally relenting. I request direct STSW from the controllers.
As we continue our decent we start briefing the landing. Fortunately STSW is a former military airport, so the runway is 11 000 ft long.
As we slow on final the plane is shuddering. I am sure that we are moments from meeting the ground in a way I am not really looking forward to.
The captain calls for flaps. It is now that I should mention that if you have an airplane covered in ice, and it is STILL flying, AND you have a 11000' runway, there is NO WAY you should change the configuration of the aircraft. The only purpose flaps have is to shorten the landing distance of the aircraft. We do not need a short roll out. The captain is a moron. I realize this completely now.
I don't answer. He calls for flaps again. I tell him that there is no way in hell I am putting down the flaps (for the reasons explained above). He tells me that we ARE using flaps, and there is nothing I can do about it.
I inform him that if he goes near the flap switch I will break his arm. He understands that I am not kidding. The approach is continued without the use of flaps.
On very short final the plane gives one final shudder and decides it is done flying. We arrive very firmly on the runway. We cannot see out the windows. Slowly we taxi our way to the ramp. In the dark.
Once we get out of the airplane we see the truth. There is really no way we should have still been able to stay in the air. The plane looks like a fire hose has been sprayed on it in a deep freeze. There is a foot and half on the nose. It goes all the way up, covering the entire plane. The wings are covered with 2 inch ridges that extend back a few feet. The tail is covered with 5-6 inches of ice.
I feel sick.
The captain turns green.
We go to the bar and get drunk and I am glad to be alive.
And I didn't fly with that captain again.
------------------------
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Someone had a bad day yesterday...
See, it was pretty wild and wooly as far as the weather went. Moderate turbulence, moderate mixed icing, and when we landed, the wind was 30 degrees off the runway, at 29 gusting to 42 knots.
See how angry the clouds were?
I happened to be taking a little video of an inbound WestJet 737 doing a landing. On landing you can see a little puff of smoke from the tires, which is a relatively normal sight for a large aircraft. It was a little unusual to see a puff of smoke on a wet runway, but I thought nothing of it.
A few minutes later, we see fire trucks go screaming down the field after the same 737. They had blown most of their tires on landing and were disabled on a taxiway.
Here's a link to LiveATC.net's recording of Toronto Tower during that time. You can hear the WJ plane drama at around 8:30 into the recording.
The runway was closed for at least an hour while support vehicles gathered up pieces of the airplane.
I felt sorry for the aircraft that had to go-around and hold in all the bumps and jumps while ATC figured out the new plan of attack re: runways. They ended up changing to the 33's, which would only enhance the crosswind component of the prevailing winds.
---------------
Now about my previous post. Some spirited discussion about the first part, for sure. I have the second part mostly ready to go, but I'm waiting a few more days until I get it all organized - Lisa wants to add a few words, and I'll have that up as soon as it gets done.
Next up: I spent Friday night sleeping under the wing of a Vampire. Yes, Vampires exist in real life...
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