Night Flight - Fixed wing 737 200

Night Flight 

After completing my IOE “Initial Operating Experience” the airline gave me my first flight schedule. It was a strip of paper cut out from a letter size paper sheet in the landscape position one inch height. It had printed  a slotted diagram, the flight numbers and dates were positioned in each slot and to accommodate for evening or morning flights they would use either the top or the bottom of the little rectangular slots. 

Evening flights were given to pilots with more seniority, the reason why was you could get bonuses and perks with them. 

As I reviewed my little strip of paper which from now on would rule my life, there appeared to be an evening flight, I wasn’t a senior, so I decided to ask. 

The answer was a  straight punch in the gut. The chief-pilot had decided he would fly with all the rookies to give his final blessing.

What a difficult thing is this tendency I have to ask questions. I was happy, for all I knew they were giving me a senior flight schedule. But now I was in the “know“.  And of course after all the things I had endured to that moment, I was going face to face with the chief-pilot. From that moment on, I had two choices, learn everything there was to know about that flight or worry.

Worrying was the choice. 

The day came and with it the bottom of the bottle of antacid.  I prepared my stuff diligently, I had a couple of flights before that one where the commanders of those flights assured me, I had nothing to worry about. 

The pointers were all over the place, from be there early, to be on time, be polite to be assertive, and talk to better not. 

I grabbed all those things and packed them tightly so they could become the seed to a new ulcer. 

In the end the only things my central nervous system allowed me to do, was iron my uniform (which you don’t know but has always helped me look sharp) and polish my shoes to the point of what monks now call “Mindfulness”.

I’m looking for a word here, pleasant with no pleasantries. 

The chief-pilot was a methodical man, dispatcher briefing taken and he then proceeded to brief the cabin crew members and a moment later, me. 

During that briefing I noticed something, the flight attendants were eager, I could call it happy they got him as their Captain for the flight. I thought maybe, just maybe he is a good guy. 

During the briefing I was told the Takeoff was going to be mine and he expected me to hand fly the Boeing 737 to at least 18,000 feet during the climb. Thunderstorms were expected en route and I was to make the calls on which way we should deviate to evade the bad weather. 

Out of the gate late, the night was upon us and after a short taxi we were instructed to taxi the 200 into position on runway 01.

-Aviateca 321, Runway zero one Cleared for Takeoff  -The Controller transmitted-

-Aviateca 321 Cleared for Takeoff Runway zero one-The Captain replied-

Throttles began to move forward. 

Slowly, decisively, symmetrically, 31,000 pounds of thrust stopped all the nonsense in the world and gave way to the moment I had been waiting and prepared for. 

The ironed shirt, the polished shoes, the new batteries in my flashlight were the only ones that could  attest the path endured and the road taken. 

We left the friendly skies I had been calling home for a little more than 20 years and into a dark thunderous night. -Eeeeasy does it, eeeeasy does it- those were the only words that came to mind while hand flying that well behaved airliner.

As we past the transition level during the climb I released my hand from the joke for a moment, it was balanced, aviators would call it “in trim”, autopilot was then engaged. 

At cruise level meals were served, smiles exchanged, weather deviations taken, descent briefed then initiated. 

We were now descending into a mountainous rainy paradise with a runway that had a predominantly gusty crosswind. 

A pitch dark canvas bellow and the occasional bump were reminders that it wasn’t going to be handed to me without some fun. 

With enough visibility to land, the only thing that separated me and my check mark to pass was the right crosswind at night. 

The drill was like this: Fly the approach with the nose headed into the right crosswind until the moment we were ready for touchdown, then press the left rudder pedal to align the nose with the runway and keep the joke with enough right aileron to touch right wing down.  All of this while carefully raising the nose to arrest our descent rate.

Let’s get this clear, if those instructions were a recipe in a cook book I would say it is one that you would not consider doing if you wanted to impress someone for the first time. 

We could stop here and say that we all survived, but...

The touchdown was light with the right gear outboard tire gracing the pavement, preventing the ground spoilers from activating and launching the aircraft into the first light bounce.  

Here we are consuming runway at ludicrous speed one foot above it and thinking, “¡Kartoffelsalat!” (Oh Snap!)

Second bounce I procured to our frequent flyers was wings level with an increasing nose up attitude which was not only deviating from the original plan but, hard enough to activate the ground spoilers after gaining flight. Obedient to the law of gravity the 737 dropped to the ground left wing down to what I learned later that night, authorized me to pay for the beers.

Silence....

Remember no pleasantries? After a few minutes we arrived at the gate and accomplished the Shutdown-checklist so we could call it a night.

Being who I am, I had to ask. -¿How was it?- The Captain looked at me and said,

 “You will get better..............in time.”

Turned out to be a positive outcome and went on to fly many more hours with him, all pleasant ones. 

If on the morning of the flight someone would have required me to point out where the moment of truth laid in that flight, I would honestly have said, “I can’t.”

It turned out to be that Takeoff.  Before that moment I had doubts, and after it uneasiness was all but gone. Even after sticking my third landing I already knew things were going to be all right. 

Ready or not events in life come, make a mark and then go. Handle them the best we can is what we should pitch for. 

Rest assured you will get better.............in time. 

LuCa

Lost in translation,

Originally written in Spanish and these and other small pieces didn't fit anywhere.

Due to factors that are beyond the scope of this paper, I will try to keep the excuses to a minimum.

Trying to see the future is pointless and futile would be our efforts to change the past.