My fate has a date

The furlough notices have been released and it is official, I, along with 67 other pilots, will be on the streets as on November 1. There are 10 somewhat luckier pilots that will continue flying until December 1, which I suppose makes it bit of a Christmas Layaway Plan.


Even though each of us on the furlough lists has known this was coming, seeing my name of that list in black and white creates a lump in my throat. I have been employed either full or part time since I was 15 years old, and this is the first time I've been laid off, but then again, this is the first time I've worked in a union environment where work ethic, technical skill and knowledge, customer service skills, and ability to get the job done take a back seat to seniority number. Welcome to the world of airline flying.

So, the game is afoot. Cathy and I will do some praying and soul searching and try to figure out what is next for us. Stay in Chicago? Move somewhere else? Sell the condo in Michigan or perhaps rent it out? Head back to Canada? Try to find something (anything) in aviation, or go back to the power industry?

Between now and November 1, I hope to do as much flying as possible, but this month does not look good. I was assigned "P3" reserve this month, which means that I'm on reserve from 7:00 PM until midnight. This is a great reserve period for someone who does not want to do anything, since there is very little chance you'll be called out. For me unfortunately it means sitting around the condo and praying I get a call. So far this month nada. I suppose that this does get me time to start preparing for the furlough. Most of my training documents and manuals are back in Chicago and I'll have to turn those in, along with my company and DTW badges, and according to the contract, even my pilots wings. It sort of conjures up this image of having to walk a gauntlet of fellow pilots on my final day while they strip the books out of my hands and rip the wings off my uniform! Interestingly enough the contract states that only pilots with less than a year (read that as probationary pilots) must turn in their wings. But for one additional month I'd be able to keep mine.

So, I will continue this blog down to the last day to keep my followers posted on the furlough process. I've been told that you are not a "real" airline pilot until you've been furloughed at least once. I guess that on November first, I'll finally be able to say I'm a real, unemployed, airline pilot!

Take care everyone!

Just another day...

As I was coming to the end of a 5-day reserve period without any calls, I was thinking that IF I did get a flight assignment, I would use that flight as a basis for my next blog post. What ever happens, good or bad, short flight or long, that would be my next topic. So it was that on Tuesday, day 4 of my 5-day, Crew Scheduling called and informed me that on Wednesday I would fly two turns, one to Philadelphia and one to Manchester New Hampshire. At the end of the day, once off duty, I would then non-rev back to Chicago to spend a few days with Cathy. This then is that story, the story of yesterday.

My alarm wakes me up at 0430, just a little early because I want to get to the Crew Room early to review procedures into and out of Philly, as this will be my first flight there. Shower, shave, dress, and pack my suitcase. Because this is my last scheduled day and I’m only scheduled to fly “day trips” today, you would not think that I would need to pack for an overnight trip. However, seasoned aircrews have learned that weather, maintenance problems, and a sundry of other issues can conspire to turn day trips into overnighters. Always pack.

The flight schedule has me reporting at 0600, wheels up to Philly at 0700, returning to DTW after a 44 minute turn time. One and a half hours on the ground at DTW which gives me time for lunch, so two sandwiches and a diet Mountain Dew go into my lunch bag. Wheels up for Manchester at 1340, a 43-minute turn time and then return to DTW at 1813. I will be officially off duty at 1843, leaving me plenty of time to head over to A Terminal to catch the 1915 flight to Chicago. Seven hours of flying followed by a short hop home; Cathy and I could be having dinner and a beer by eight O’clock in the evening Chicago time…all in all a pretty good day. That was the plan anyway.

I’m out the door of the condo at 0510 and arrive at the DTW employee parking lot at 0528, thirty two minutes before my official report time. I find a place to park, and start heading to the bus stop, only to see my bus pulling away with me less than 50 feet away. The buses run on 15 minute schedules (supposedly), and the next bus arrives 0548, dropping me off at the B Terminal at 0558. So much for being early. A quick check of my in box shows that I have one bulletin to add to my Airport Directory. I also note a new bulletin is posted that must be entered into my Flight Operations Manual (runway construction at MSP), and no new CRJ-900 bulletins are posted. I duck into the Crew Room, drop my lunch into the fridge, grab my flight bag from the storage room, and enter my new bulletins. I remove the Philly terminal procedure charts from my chart binder and place them into my “day book”, a book I prepare before each flight that has all of the procedures needed to that flight. This helps keep me organized and means unless we divert, I will only need to pull one book from my flight case once in the aircraft. I spend about 5 minutes reviewing the arrival, departure and ground procedures for Philly and note nothing really out of the ordinary, except a note that some aircraft have reported false TCAS (Traffic alert and Collision Avoidance System) alerts caused by Naval ships in the nearby shipyard.

I am supposed to arrive at the gate at 0630, but because this will be aircraft 904’s first flight of the day I want to get there a few minutes early to perform the security inspection. I head upstairs to gate B11 where the gate agent tells me that our aircraft is coming from the maintenance hanger and has not arrived yet, although our flight paperwork has, so instead of inspecting the airplane I review the paperwork. The flight plan route is as expected, there is no alternate airport required, we will be given 9600 pounds of fuel, and the minimum fuel for takeoff will be 8300 pounds. Also of significance is that according to the paperwork, nothing is broken or deferred on the airplane, always a welcome note.

Captain M arrives at about 0635, and I introduce myself since we’ve never flow together before. Still no airplane. At 0645 the gate agent makes an announcement that the flight will be delayed until at least 0715, but I know that it will be much later since we’d be lucky to get out at 0715 even if we had the airplane at the gate. At 0710, the gate agent announces that there is a gate change and we’re taking another aircraft parked at gate B15, so down we head, tossing the flight paperwork in the trash since the gate agent tells us that we’re taking a different airplane, which will require a whole new dispatch release and flight plan.

Imagine my surprise to see aircraft 904 sitting at gate B15, where it likely has been sitting all along. Already 30 minutes behind schedule, we ask the gate agent to print out our paperwork again and we head down the jetway to get the airplane ready to load passengers. Hold it, not so fast! The ground crew has not completed their daily security checks, so we are not allowed on the plane. Normal procedure would be to board the plane, stow my overnight bag, then power up the plane and perform the cockpit initialization checks before heading to the ramp to perform the preflight and security inspections. However, instead of wasting time waiting on Bubba to finish his cabin inspection and allow us to board, I tell Captain M that I’m heading down to the ramp to perform the preflight checks.

Within one minute, I spot a problem. The windshield wipers are supposed to be parked straight up, resting on the windshield center post. Ship 904 has both windshield wipers parked several inches from center, resting fully on the windshield. If not properly parked, the aircraft is limited to 250 knots so that the slipstream does not rip a wiper off and send it through an engine (bad Ju Ju). I holler up to the Captain and tell him the news, but he can’t radio the news to maintenance since we can’t get on the plane still, so he calls dispatch on his cell phone and asks them to get maintenance rolling our way. I finish the inspections and note nothing else out of order and head back to the jetway, to wait some more for Bubba to finish, which he finally does, and we all climb aboard, power up the plane, and start making preps to get ready to load passengers.

Although we want to cycle the wipers to see if they will park correctly, we can’t run them on a dry windshield since that causes scratches. Maintenance arrives, wets the windshield, and cycles the wipers which correctly park, so they grab our MM1 log to make their entry. I call DTW Clearance Delivery, get our clearance and enter it into the FMS. The lead flight attendant tells us that the aft lavatory needs service and that we don’t have any ice on board, so service calls are made. Passengers start boarding. We note that although there are no deferrals listed on the newly printed dispatch release, there is a deferral sticker still on the flaps/slats control switch, and a review of the MM1 log shows that Maintenance signed off a “Slats Halfspeed” deferral the previous night, but apparently forgot to remove the sticker. Another call to Maintenance to get them back out to review the log and remove the sticker. Bags are loaded and the bag count sheet is handed to me for entry into ACARS. The passenger load count is likewise passed up and entered, and final fuel and weight data is then transmitted out via ACARS, and a return message is received with our takeoff safety speeds, weight and balance, and the flex takeoff thrust settings. The passenger door is closed and the parking brake is released at 0751, and the crew is finally on the pay clock, 51 minutes behind schedule. Our flight gets underway without ice and with only one lav since our service request was never filled.

Captain M flies faster than profile to Philly to make up some time, and we block in at 0922 having made up 10 minutes, which is good, but not good enough for those with missed connections. We are scheduled to have 44 minutes total from block in to block out, but since we’re running late we do everything we can to shorten that time. I’d really like to leave the cockpit and head to the usable washroom, but things are happening fast and we’re already loading passengers. We drop the brake at 0951, an impressive 29 minutes from our arrival time, but still 26 minutes behind schedule. Oh, and we still only have one usable washroom, but at least the Philly crew loaded us with ice. That’s only batting 500, but it is better service than we got back in DTW.

Philly is departing runway 27L and it looks like there’s quite a backup of departing traffic, but the tower is doing a great job of cranking them out. Within 10 minutes of leaving he gate the Captain turns over the controls to me and I takeoff, again pushing the profile to make up some additional time, but this time with a 67 knot headwind instead of the nice tailwind we enjoyed on the way down. Center and DTW approach controllers don’t spread any aloha and are not able to provide any shortcuts and in fact, start slowing us down very early for arrival spacing. We touch down on runway 21L at 1130, but by the time we taxi to gate B12 (4 minutes) and then wait for a ground handling crew to show up and marshal us in, we block in at 1142, which is 23 minutes behind schedule, so I was only able to make up three minutes on an hour and fifty one minute leg. We get an A for effort, but a D minus on results and only results count in this business.

We have an elderly passenger who needs a wheelchair to get up the jetway, and although we called ahead to make sure one was standing by, another passenger decided to accept a free ride to baggage claim and took it. This happens more frequently than you would believe, and it really ticks me off. If you really need a wheelchair, tell the flight attendant and we’ll be sure to have one for you. If you don’t ask for one, don’t just claim it like a taxicab, since there will not be one available for the person who asked for it and likely needs it more than you do. Anyway, since the flight attendants can’t leave the aircraft until all passengers are off, I go to try to find a wheelchair and attendant to help our last passenger off, which takes much too long. Our last passenger is finally wheeled away from the airplane and taken to her connection flight to Lexington and we start making preparations to clean up, shutdown and secure the airplane. Captain M finishes his post-flight walk around inspection and noting nothing out of the ordinary, he bids us goodbye and heads to his connection flight, his work done for the day.

Likewise, I bid adieu to our flight attendants who are also now off the clock (like the pilots, they were off the pay clock 30 minutes from the time the door was opened upon our arrival, even though we were all still on board and cleaning the aircraft then). I check with the gate agent and find out that I’ll be taking 904 to Manchester which is OK with me, especially if we get the lav serviced. By the time I make a quick call to Cathy and check the time, I see that I have to be back on board in 15 minutes, not enough time to head to the Crew Room and grab my lunch, but plenty of time to finally get to the washroom. So, at 1305 I head back down the jetway and power ship 904 back up.

The new flight attendants and Captain D arrive and once again we all introduce ourselves and get busy. Hold the phone, we have an EICAS message that we’re not supposed to; “Slats Halfspeed”. I explain the history of this to Captain D who calls Maintenance to come check it out. Maintenance arrives and tries to work their magic but once again there is no aloha and the EICAS message remains, so they defer the maintenance. A pretty yellow sticker, just like the one that mistakenly got left in place early this morning, gets placed next to the slats/flaps control. The Captain makes a call to Dispatch since we will need a new dispatch release showing this new deferral while I pull the MEL book and review the operational considerations of operating with slats at half speed. While this is going on our passengers and bags are loaded, Maintenance completes their MM1 entry and leaves, and we close the door at exactly 1340, right on time. The Captain makes his welcome aboard PA and tells everyone that we will be delayed pushing back until we finish with some paperwork. Although the Captain can make pen and ink changes to the dispatch release, it is an MEL requirement that our takeoff and landing data take into consideration the deferred slat speed, and although I’ve tried resending the ACARS data several times it is returned with “NONE” under remarks, meaning that there are no deferrals. Because we are delayed, our ground crew leaves us to go push the aircraft next door while Captain D calls Dispatch and tells them to get the deferral into system. Finally after about 15 minutes we get good data and our ground crew has returned, so we push back from the gate and head toward runway 22L, set up for me to fly the outbound leg.

Once again faster than profile to try to make up the time we lost on the ground, I dodge a single thunderstorm cell over Pennsylvania and fly an uneventful leg to Manchester, landing on runway 35 and getting to the gate at 1536, nine minutes behind schedule. Once again the passengers are all off, we clean and straighten the cabin, and the DTW-bound passengers start loading. Although we’re ready to close the door, the ground crew is still loading bags and are late to pass up the bag load sheet. Once that’s done we close the door 2 minutes behind schedule, push back and head once again for runway 35. With no other traffic at Manchester we’re soon airborne, again pushing the profile to make up time and to beat the 70 knot headwind. On the decent ATC finally spreads some Aloha our way and asks us to keep out speed at 300 knots or better in the decent which we gladly do. Two shortcuts come out way and even the winds cooperate allowing us a near straight in approach to runway 21L. The stars all stay aligned and when we arrive at gate B6, the ground crew is already there. Now THIS is how it is supposed to work, and we block in at 1801, twelve minutes ahead of schedule. An A for effort and results, finally! Passengers are all off loaded, systems are shutdown, the cabin is cleaned and straightened, and at 1850 I say goodbye and head over to Terminal A to grab my flight home.

I’m relieved to see the plane at the gate A53, but the gate agent tells me that the plane is overbooked and I’ll have to ask the Captain for the cockpit jumpseat, which is fine with me. At this point I’ll ride in the baggage compartment! At 1900 the gate agent announces that the flight will be delayed until 1945 due to weather in Chicago. The aircrew arrives at 1910 and I introduce myself to Captain R who signs my jumpseat authorization and makes me feel very welcome. I head down the jetway with the crew, store my bags, and then wait at the jetway door as all of the passengers are loaded. The First Officer returns from his walk around and tells me there is a hydraulic leak. About 10 minutes later Maintenance shows up and after about 15 minutes of discussion decides that they can’t repair the leak. Another 5 minutes pass and the gate agent comes down the jetway and tells the Captain that we’ll be taking another plane parked at A45. Just as with my first flight some 13 hours earlier, we move all of the passengers down to a new gate and the crew heads down to get the aircraft ready for the flight. Also just like 13 hours earlier, the flight crew note two problems with this new bird; first the interior temperature is 90 degrees and secondly, there is a broken safety bar on the Captain’s-side circuit breaker panel. The Captain is rightfully livid and explains to me that he refuses to load passengers until the cabin is below 80 degrees. This airplane has been sitting at the gate for 3 hours, without the APU running or external cooling air attached and is completely heat soaked. Unlike the CRJ-900 that I fly, he explains that if he loaded passengers and tried to cool the cabin with only the onboard APU, the temperature would actually go up to about 100 degrees until they got airborne. Considerate to his passengers comfort and safety although knowing that we’re already well behind schedule, he takes no shortcuts and demands that the ground crews get external air connected and the cabin cooled.

Without any additional details, I’ll tell you that the cabin was cooled, the circuit breaker bar repaired, passengers were loaded, and we were wheels up at exactly 2200, two hours and 45 minutes behind schedule. I found it striking that my day ended just like it started, and even though it was a different airline flying different equipment, they were faced with exactly the same challenges. Whether it is fighting to get ice on board, a lavatory serviced, windshield wipers fixed, a hydraulic leak repaired, or an excessively hot cabin cooled, the crew is fighting to correct issues that they had no hand in making. With a little more concern or pro-active inspections, others could have found these issues and had a remedy started long before passengers were delayed. Striking to me is that the crews fight these battles while under the stress of staying on schedule and while not on the pay clock. I am personally disappointed that out of four legs I was only able to get passengers to their destination on time once, but try as I might there is very little that can be done to overcome the delays once the die is cast. At least I am proud to be working among professionals that continue to try to do what they can for our passengers, even when it seems we are fighting a losing battle. My company has an impressive on-time record and days like today are rare (at least for this airline), but they do happen.

Such was my day yesterday, another day of reserve flying, another day closer to furlough. A new airport experienced, new friends made, new challenges overcome, and seven more hours of irreplaceable flying experience and can’t be gained in any other way. Low pay, hectic schedule, pending furlough and all, I love this job and will miss it.

Here’s hoping you find as much enjoyment overcoming your daily challenges!

Goodbye Sixteen Charlie

Well, the day finally came when I had to watch Friedel take to the sky with 3316C, now officially his and Peggy's aircraft, as he headed east for the trip to Germany. Cathy feels somewhat differently, but for for me there is great sadness in knowing that I will never fly 16C again, and that Cathy and I will never add to our wonderful memories of the adventures we shared on our Bonanza trips together. 16 Charlie was a part of our lives for many years, and together we shared a lot of joy, and a little angst, while we owned her. If ever there has been proof of the "men are from Mars and women are from Venus" theory, men's attachment to inanimate objects such as 16C is it. Cathy sees the financial upside of selling the plane (which, in light of my minuscule paycheck, not to mention pending furlough, I must appreciate too). I however, constantly think back to all of the good times shared and until this very day, always looked forward to the next flying adventure. For now, I will simply have to be satisfied with the memories.

Many readers of this blog have enjoyed flights in 16 Charlie, and I thank each of you for sharing the fun. The original trip to Montana to pick her up with Gord, flying down in his wonderful 1950 B model Bonanza, then flying back to Calgary in formation. Trips to my sister's wedding in Oregon, my mother's home in Washington, camping trips to Montana, trips to North Carolina for Mike and Rhonda's yearly "pig pick'en", trips down the Chicago waterline with my friend Jeff and my friend Rick, lunch trips with Jamie and Brandon. Flying with Cathy to Montreal for her US immigration; countless trips from Calgary up to Cooking Lake Alberta to visit Cathy's Brother Randy and his family. Trips out to Ontario to visit our friends Shelley and Phil. Flying 16 Charlie from Washington state across the United States to Illinois; all of these adventures are forever etched in my mind, and more importantly, recorded in my log book for the future years when the mind tends to let the memories fade (who am I kidding about "future years", and where the hell DID I put my car keys...?).

My sadness of selling 16 Charlie is tempered by knowing that Friedel and Peggy will be FANTASTIC owners. Friedel said it best when he told me just as it was my dream to fly for the airlines, his dream has been to own an early Bonanza. When he came to the US back in May to look at several Bonanza's and pick one out, just like me, he fell in love with 16 Charlie at first sight. Peggy and Friedel are true aviators and own a 1942 Stearman in an airshow act that travels throughout Europe. Please have a look at their great web site here:
http://www.wing-walkers.de/web/eng/team.php

Lastly, for those who have never owned an airplane, please understand that it is the relationships with others that is enhanced by airplane ownership that makes that ownership so special, and I should acknowledge some of those people. My mentor Gene kept 16 Charley safely tucked away in the hanger up in Waukegan, even after I no longer worked for him. Anson, Gene's mechanic, who kept an eye on her when my schedule kept me from doing so, and on occasion helped de-bug a problem or two. Speaking of mechanics, for the past three and a half years 16 Charlie has been maintained by a man that I feel is not only one of the best Bonanza mechanics in the country, but probably one of the nicest gentleman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Jim Finefield and his son Paul, along with all of the other fantastic employees at Finefield Aviation at 3CK have not only the knack, but the true passion of keeping antique aircraft flying. And finally, a special thanks to Cathy, who opened her mind, her heart, and not insignificantly, our bank account, to ensure that our years with 16 Charlie were both happy and safe. For someone as fiscally conservative as Cathy airplane ownership was difficult, but not once did she ever balk at a single dollar being spent to maintain 16 Charlie safely. I was blessed to have found such a wonderful and beautiful old airplane, and such a wonderful and beautiful, not-so-old wife with which to share the fun times.

Friedel, God speed and tailwinds on your journey across the ocean to Germany. If owning 16 Charlie brings you and Peggy even half of the happiness it brought Cathy and I, your Euros were well spent. I sure hope to be able to come see 16 Charlie in her new home sometime soon.

You want me where, by when!?

It is not often that I post more than once per week, but after the circle-jerk that I experienced tonight, I needed to take a few minutes to catch my breath and unwind, so I thought I might share with you my adventures with Crew Scheduling. For those followers who do have no experience with airline flying, Crew Scheduling are the folks who sit in a cube city office somewhere and plug flight crews into airplanes so that flights can leave the gate on time, all the while avoiding exceeding FAA crew rest requirements, juggling training and vacation schedules, and seemingly recently, dealing with a rash of pilots calling in sick. It may only be a rumor, but I heard that since the furlough announcement many pilots are using up sick days as a protest. I can't say if that's true or not, but if it is it is a shame. Come on guys, is calling in sick at the last minute really going to either avoid furloughs, or get back at anyone? Is Crew Scheduling responsible for furloughs?

For the most part, I have had a good relationship with Crew Scheduling. They have called me for some short fused needs and I have responded faster than the 1.5 hours that the contract requires. On the other hand, I have on occasion requested to drop a reserve day to get an extra day off and they have approved (although not always). I have great empathy for the job that these people do and I know that it is not easy, but tonight I think someone dropped the ball big time.

Let me set the stage:

When I left Detroit four days ago, I left with the following schedule:
July 27 - DTW-AUS
July 28 - AUS-SLC, and SLC-AUS
July 29 - AUS-SLC, and SLC-AUS
July 30 - AUS-MSP, followed by a deadhead flight back to DTW
Aug 1-2, reserve days in back in DTW

So, when I left Detroit on Monday, I packed and prepared for a 4-day trip, but with two extra days of reserve at the end of the schedule, I knew it was likely that I'd see a schedule change.

This morning in Austin TX, I received a call from Crew Scheduling telling me that they needed me to stay in Minneapolis tonight to stand "out of base reserve" tomorrow, and that the needed me to fly a MSP-DSM flight tomorrow evening. No big deal, since they put me up in the Hyatt Place for the night and through the day on Friday. Heck, I'd rather sit out of base reserve and draw Per Diem than sit reserve in Detroit.

Our AUS-MSP flight is uneventful and we never even had to deviate a single time for weather. Upon landing at MSP I say good bye to my fellow crew members who are heading back to DTW, and call for the hotel shuttle to pick me up. Once at the hotel, I find that there is no reservation for me. THAT should have been my first warning. I call Crew Scheduling and ask them to fax over a copy of the room request so that I can get checked in, and they promise to send it over immediately. For the record, this was at 9:15 PM. The good folks at the Hyatt go ahead and let me check in while they wait for the paperwork.

At 9:40 PM I jump in the hotel van for a ride over to Ruby Tuesdays to grab some dinner. As we pull into the restaurant parking lot at 9:45, I receive a call from Crew Scheduling that when something like this:

ME "Hi, this is Gary"
CS "Gary, this is Tom with Crew Scheduling. Did anyone tell you that you have a Fargo flight tonight?"
ME "Tonight, you mean tomorrow night"
CS "No, tonight"
ME "What time tonight?"
CS "10:20"
ME "Tom, I'm sitting in a van in civilian clothes a mile from the hotel and your telling me I have a flight in 35 minutes?"
CS "You mean you are a mile from the airport?"
ME "NO TOM, A MILE FROM THE HOTEL THAT I CHECKED INTO THIRTY MINUTES AGO!"
CS "Oh, well, get there when you can. Oh, and you have a Boise overnight tomorrow too"
Click.....

For the record, Flight 3587 departed at 10:30 PM, only 10 minutes behind schedule. This was thanks to John the Hyatt van driver who waited on me while I changed back into uniform and then drove the van like I've not seen since my days in Chinea Korea getting to the airport. It is also thanks to Captain Randy who had everything all set up in the airplane when I arrived so all I needed to do was a pre-flight inspection, strap in, confirm his programming, run the checklists, crank the engines and go. We even made the time up and had our passengers at the gate at Fargo 5 minutes early.

So, other than to vent a little, why am I writing this? Perhaps to let you know some of the fun that goes on behind the scenes that you may never know about. Our passengers last night had no way of knowing why I ran aboard the aircraft minutes prior to pushback, and some likely were upset about pushing 10 minutes late. Why it happened, I really don't know. Someone calls in sick at the last minute, or, perhaps Crew Scheduling just dropped the ball and did not inform me of a change they made earlier in the day. All I know is that a LOT of people, not just me, jumped through hoops to keep this one short flight as close to schedule as possible. THAT is what will make this airline more profitable, hopefully one day opening up more flying and more jobs. Calling in sick will NOT.

Vent over...now breathe...."serenity now, serenity now".

Avoiding Bad Ju-Ju, under the ice or over the storm

In the past two weeks I have been assigned a lot of flights between Austin Texas and Salt Lake City Utah, meaning that I'm spending a lot of time in thunderstorm territory. Naturally aircraft need to avoid thunderstorms because of the destructive hail and violent wind shears, but you may be surprised to learn that "avoiding thunderstorms" is not as easy as you may believe. Yes, all modern airline aircraft are equipped with weather radar and use it as the primary avoidance tool, but interpreting the real story behind the radar picture is not as easy as watching TV. In fact, it very much reminds me of my submarine days when we used sonar to navigate through ice ridges when transiting through the Bering Strait into the Arctic Ocean. I thought you might be interested in a comparison of the two.

First of all, both radar and sonar work in the same general way; a beam of energy is transmitted (through air for radar and through water for sonar) and is bounced back or returned for processing and display. The strength of the return is proportional to the size or density of the mass reflecting the return, and the time it takes to bounce back is proportional to the distance to the target. Simple enough. Imagine that I have placed you in the middle of a dark, open room of unknown size. I then hand you a bucket of tennis balls and tell you to start tossing them at your surroundings. As you tossed tennis balls and listened to where they hit the wall and how long it took you would eventually get some idea of the size and shape of the room you were in. Now, let's make it a little easier and give you a flashlight. Same dark room, but this time I hand you a flashlight and tell you to walk around and find the dimensions of the room, but don't bump into anything while moving around. Should be easy, right? What if I only allowed you to hold the flashlight straight out and did not allow you to point it at the floor or at the ceiling? Think you could avoid tripping on a few objects laying about, or perhaps a fixture hanging from the ceiling? What if I placed some objects painted flat black in the room? Even with the flashlight you might not see them well enough to avoid hitting them. Now you understand some of the limitations of both radar and sonar.

In my day, submarines used the AN/BQS-14 sonar for ice detection and avoidance. Originally developed to detect underwater mines, this sonar underwent many upgrades and eventually became known as PFLU (pronounced Pee-Flu) or Pulsed Forward Looking Upgrade. This sonar sent a narrow beam of energy straight forward from the sail of the sub and the returned data was displayed on a screen in the control room. But wait...why do you even need sonar to avoid overhead ice? Why don't you just submerge the submarine to a safe depth and sail along safely below the ice? Believe it or not, the bottom of the Arctic ice pack is NOT flat, not even close. The Arctic is a very dynamic environment, and the ice pack is not one solid sheet of ice. Hundreds and thousands of ice islands are floating along slowly with the current, and like tectonic plates of the earth, when they collide they are forced together with tons of pressure which forces the ice both up on the surface, and down into the ocean. With a few exceptions the bottom of the Arctic ice pack looks like the upper surface of a cave, with thousands of staligtights hanging down. Naturally if the water was deep enough you would simply pass under these ice "keels", but unfortunately, the Bering Strait is very shallow and the winter ice keels can actually reach all the way to the bottom. Bad Ju-Ju to hit those. Take a look at this photo of our actual PFLU display during the Bering transient:

In this example, the submarine is operating submerged in 157 feet of water (!), and is currently only 26 feet from the bottom (!!!). The sonar is showing us a significant ice keel target ahead at 600 yards, but we need to know if that keel reaches down to our depth or if we will pass safely below it. We will know we are in trouble if the return is still present when we get within 300 yards of it, which is the magenta line you see on the PFLU display. This is because just like aircraft radar, the PFLU beams out its energy in a cone shape, narrow at the transmitter and gradually widening out with distance. Almost any ice keel will be detected at distance because the beam is very wide, but as you approach these shallow keels they will eventually pass out of the beam and their return will fade from the screen. If however you are still seeing a return at 300 yards, it is a sure bet that this ice keel is at a dangerous depth and you must turn to avoid it. Also note on the PFLU display the submarine's speed of 5 knots. Imagine being in a 5000 ton nuclear submarine, 26 feet from the bottom of the ocean, watching as you move closer to an ice keel, hoping and praying that the return will soon fade, only to realize that you are now 300 yards from it and you must now take evasive action within the next minute or you will hit it. Now THAT'S exciting! Through hours and hours of experience we became pretty efficient at interpreting the display, understanding the limitations imposed by its fixed beam, and avoiding the ice.

Yesterday Captain Tim and I were returning to Austin from Salt Lake City, and as expected there were a lot of thunderstorms brewing up between us and a cold beer on the ground. Assuming that you can see these monsters they can be easy enough to avoid, but while flying at 35,000 feet (FL350), we were in a solid blanket of cloud and were just as blind as a submerged submarine. Our first defence is to try to stay visual, so we climb to FL370 which works for while, but eventually the clouds rise and envelope us again, leaving us with our WXR-840 weather radar as our primary defence tool. Although there are some similarities, there are significant differences between this radar and the BQS-14 sonar on the submarine, not to mention the operational differences between an aircraft and a submarine. Let's discuss the equipment differences.

WXR-840 weather radar uses a flat plate "dish" in the aircraft nose that sweeps to the left and right of the aircraft's flight path. Unlike the sonar however, the 840 can be tilted up and down. Using this tilt control is absolutely critical to safely avoiding killer thunderstorms. Here's why. Without getting into too much detail, a mature thunderstorm is a highly complex system, and has several well-defined zones or areas within its boundaries. Below the clouds it typically the rain curtain and its associated wind, lightning and thunder. That's what we all experienced on the ground countless times, and depending on the storm's strength they can be scary. What's really scary is the middle section of the vertical storm, which contains up and down drafts of fantastic strength, wind shears that can instantly cause structural damage to aircraft, and most often heavy quantities of rain and wet hail. It is this middle section that reflects radar energy so well and shows up vividly on our radar display. The upper section of a storm, and remember that these devils can reach altitudes much higher that the 41,000 our CRJ can climb to, contains very little moisture. However, they still contain the wind shear, violent up and down drafts, and often dry hail, and unfortunately none of these will reflect radar energy. It is not unheard of to have pilots flying aircraft with working weather radar fly into the dangerous upper areas of a storm because they had their radar set to sweep only the upper altitudes where they are flying, not realizing that unless they tilted their radar so that it could look down into the reflective zones of the storm there stood no chance of seeing anything. These encounters rarely end well for either crew or passengers.

Take a look at the photos below taken on our flight yesterday (click on the photos to enlarge them).

In the photo on the left, we are flying at FL360 heading toward Junction City and are "painting" a moderate return about 20 degrees left of course at about 70 miles. In the upper right corner of the display you will see "T+1.0" which is our current tilt setting, which is ahead and slightly up. In the second photo taken only a minute later, you can note two things...the tilt setting has been lowered to -0.5, and that same storm suddenly looks a lot meaner. This is what it looked like from the cockpit window:



I had it easy on my leg since I was above the cloud deck and could visually avoid the storms. On Tim's return leg we were "in the goo" for almost the entire trip, leaving us to navigate around the bad Ju-Ju using the WXR-840 display, and more importantly, our experience in reading those returns. With a few zigs and a few zags we were able to get our 73 passengers safely to Austin on time without them even knowing anything about the tactical decisions being made each minute of that flight.

Once back at the hotel, Tom and I were discussing the physical and mental toll that a six hour return flight can place on a flight crew, and we both realized that from the minute the first checklist starts on the ground until we complete the final checklist at the destination, flying in this summer thunderstorm environment forces the crew to make literally hundreds of thousands of decisions, one on top of another, non-stop. There is no room for error, for just like in a submarine operating 26 feet from the ocean bottom with ice passing feet above you, navigating through thunderstorms is unforgiving, and a single mistake can prove fatal. Unlike submarines however, airline crews do this every hour of everyday, all around the world.

Here's hoping you can avoid all of the bad Ju-Ju in your life!