While I'm still kinda on the subject of flight instructing, I may as well digress a bit more.
Flight instructing is often a pilot's first job in aviation. It merely requires a commercial pilot certificate and a flight instructor's certificate - which a pilot can obtain with just over 250 hours of flight time (less than that at some schools). There are precious few other jobs that a 250-hr commercial pilot can compete for, so most build time by flight instructing.
Flight instructing takes a lot of skill, patience, and planning. Not everyone is cut out for it, and there are a number of horrible instructors out there. Some of them really try but have no teaching ability, or are poor communicators. Others, though, simply have no patience and view the job as beneath them, just a stepping stone to bigger and better things. I have no sympathy for people like these. They should not be in aviation at all. Somebody who treats students poorly will someday treat their crewmembers poorly.
On the other hand, there are many excellent instructors out there that have my full respect. Many of these are still time-builders, but they recognize the importance of their current job and devote their full energies to it. I think that's pretty indicative of how they'll do in future flying jobs.
When I instructed, I had a bit of a love/hate relationship with it. I enjoyed the teaching aspect of the job, and I got pretty good at it. When you got a"bad" student, though, it wasn't very enjoyable. At some point you might have to tell them that more training was futile, they just couldn't hack it - and their response wasn't likely to be cheerful. Instructing could also be a dangerous job, as the following incident illustrates.
One of my first students, Anas, was an older guy from Egypt. He'd recently done his instrument training, and wanted to add a multi-engine rating to his private license. This was in May in Southern California, when the marine layer is rather persistent, which required us to do some of the training in the clouds (IMC). Anas tried to kill me on our first approach - twice!
The VOR-A approach to Brackett (available in PDF here) approaches Pomona VOR from the south, with a descent to a minimum altitude (MDA) of 1800 ft, and then 1640 ft when 1 mile from the VOR. The airport is at 1011 feet elevation, but the VOR, which you cross to get to the airport, is on a 1400 ft hill...so you're pretty darn close to the rocks at 1640 ft.
Anyways, we're in the clouds at 3000 feet, about 10 miles southwest of the airport on a heading of 080, getting vectored onto the approach by ATC. Anas was horrible at catching radio calls on busy frequencies. "Seneca 298, five miles from GOLDI, turn left 030, maintain 3000 until established, cleared VOR-A approach." Anas didn't respond. "Dude, they're talking to you!" He looks at me with a goofy look so I grab the call. "030 and 3000 till established, cleared for the approach, Seneca 298." Anas began the turn to intercept as I answered the call; I looked down at the approach plate.
I looked up from my approach plate and we were in a 45 degree bank. "ANAS! Bank Angle!" He didn't respond so I told him "My airplane!" and brought the airplane to a more sane bank angle. I asked him what happened and he said he was looking down for something. So now I'm thinking, great, I have a instrument-rated student who can't fly in the clouds. Still, I decided to see how he did on the rest of the approach, and gave him the controls again.
Passing GOLDI, he extended the landing gear and descended to 1800 feet, but at that altitude we were still in the clouds. Passing 1DME (1 mile from the VOR), the approach calls for a descent to 1640', but Anas kept level at 1800'. Now that one last mile of the approach only takes 30 seconds, so things here happen quickly. "Anas, if you want to see the airport, you're going to have to descend to the published MDA." He didn't respond. "Anas, that's 1640 feet. You need to descend."
Suddenly he pushed the control wheel forward visciously, sending me upwards into my shoulder harness. We popped out of the clouds almost instantanously to the view of that 1400' hill rushing up at us. I yelled "MY CONTROLS" and tugged back on the control wheel as I throttled the engines and retracted the gear. I flew the missed approach almost too angry to speak. I calmed down enough to fly the approach, land, taxi in, and shut down before turning to him and asking why he did that. "Well, you wanted to go down," he said innocently.
I actually worked with Anas for some time after that, but he never improved much. When I told him I could not sign him off for the checkride, he became extremely angry and threatened to sue me and the school. He eventually skipped the country to Egypt, owing the school over $1000.
I have a few more stories about students like Anas but I'll save them for another time. The point is, despite incidents like the one above, on the whole I enjoyed instructing and miss it a little, which is why I keep my CFI certificate current so I can use it with people like Johnny, and other friends & family.
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
Starry Google
Is it Van Gogh's birthday or something? I'm notreally interested enough to investigate, but Google has a Starry Night takeoff for their logo today. Hmm.
Update: I decided I was interested enough to investigate. He was born March 30, 1853. Happy birthday van Gogh!
Update: I decided I was interested enough to investigate. He was born March 30, 1853. Happy birthday van Gogh!
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
CFI Sam
It's been a while since I've actively flight instructed, but I've kept my CFI certificate in case I want to do some part-time instructing down the road, even just for family and friends. Yesterday I got to do a little instructing for my former student Johnny.
Johnny lives in SoCal. He's a former minor rockstar (his band toured Europe with Van Halen & Journey) who owns and runs a successful distribution business with his brother and sister. He was one of the best students I ever had...he caught onto flying very quickly. He took his checkride shortly before I left instructing.
Johnny recently bought a 1984 Piper Warrior. I'd never seen it, and he needed a Biennial Flight Review (BFR) so I jumpseated down to Ontario yesterday & we did a few hours of ground and an hour of flying in his airplane. It was good fun, & reminded me of how much I enjoyed instructing, at least with good students.
And yeah, I want my own airplane. Just gotta pay off these student loans first...!
Johnny lives in SoCal. He's a former minor rockstar (his band toured Europe with Van Halen & Journey) who owns and runs a successful distribution business with his brother and sister. He was one of the best students I ever had...he caught onto flying very quickly. He took his checkride shortly before I left instructing.
Johnny recently bought a 1984 Piper Warrior. I'd never seen it, and he needed a Biennial Flight Review (BFR) so I jumpseated down to Ontario yesterday & we did a few hours of ground and an hour of flying in his airplane. It was good fun, & reminded me of how much I enjoyed instructing, at least with good students.
And yeah, I want my own airplane. Just gotta pay off these student loans first...!
Saturday, March 26, 2005
A joke from Boise
Everytime I'm flying to Boise with a captain I haven't flown with before, I feel compelled to tell this joke.
A stunning blonde gets on a flight to Boise and takes a seat in First Class. All is well until a man boards and sees her in his seat, and alerts one of the flight attendants. The FA checks the woman's boarding pass - sure enough, she's supposed to be back in 21F. "Maam, you're going to have to go sit in your assigned seat," she says.
The blonde looks at her defiantly and says, "I'm blonde, I'm beautiful, and I'm going to Boise. I'm sitting right here."
This flusters the FA a little bit; she goes and gets the lead flight attendant. The lead FA reitterates the need for the blonde to relocate herself to coach, and again the woman responds: "I'm blonde, I'm beautiful, and I'm going to Boise. I'm staying put."
The flight attendants, rather upset, go tell the captain the news. The captain grins and says, "My wife is a blonde. I know how to handle this." He goes back to first class and whispers something into the blonde's ear. Immediately she stands up, gathers her things, and moves back to her assigned seat.
Amazed, the FA's ask the captain what he told her. "Oh, I just told her that coach is going to Boise, but first class is going to Boston!"
A stunning blonde gets on a flight to Boise and takes a seat in First Class. All is well until a man boards and sees her in his seat, and alerts one of the flight attendants. The FA checks the woman's boarding pass - sure enough, she's supposed to be back in 21F. "Maam, you're going to have to go sit in your assigned seat," she says.
The blonde looks at her defiantly and says, "I'm blonde, I'm beautiful, and I'm going to Boise. I'm sitting right here."
This flusters the FA a little bit; she goes and gets the lead flight attendant. The lead FA reitterates the need for the blonde to relocate herself to coach, and again the woman responds: "I'm blonde, I'm beautiful, and I'm going to Boise. I'm staying put."
The flight attendants, rather upset, go tell the captain the news. The captain grins and says, "My wife is a blonde. I know how to handle this." He goes back to first class and whispers something into the blonde's ear. Immediately she stands up, gathers her things, and moves back to her assigned seat.
Amazed, the FA's ask the captain what he told her. "Oh, I just told her that coach is going to Boise, but first class is going to Boston!"
Friday, March 25, 2005
Sunny in Sacramento
Once again, I'm in Sacramento on a 3-day trip (SMF, BOI). Thankfully, the weather is much nicer than last week. The sun is out & it's fairly warm with a light breeze. I'm typing this from my balcony, which is right next to a big palm tree. Sacramento is not my favorite city in California - my time in LA biased me against the San Joaquin Valley - but it's nice that we get down here to enjoy some California weather every once in a while.
A good friend told me last night that she thinks I've become much more negative and cynical lately. I really didn't see it, but she pointed out that I tend to complain about my job in this blog rather than talk about the cool things I do and see, and what I like about my job. I guess that's because I wanted this blog to provide a balanced look at the airline piloting profession. Too many people get into this industry with an unrealistic expectation of what it will be like, & the training schools sure aren't telling their students about the downsides of this job. So, in trying to restore some balance, perhaps I've swung the other way & given readers the idea that airline pilots are a bunch of complaining jerks.
On the whole, I do love this job, and I'm very grateful to be where I am at only 23 years old. I get to see some gorgeous country & work with some great people & fly a state-of-the-art airplane. Good job, a wife I love, buying a house of our own...throw in a couple of kids and it's the flippin' American Dream. So I'll try to reflect this overall happiness in future posts, even if it's accompanied by a few complaints over certain aspects of my job.
A good crew...
...can totally make the difference between a so-so trip and a great trip.
[Used to be a picture of flight crew and myself @ restaurant, taken down for privacy reasons]
This is Steve, Karina, Debbie, and myself at the El Torito restaurant in Sacramento last week. They were a great crew to fly with - we had a lot of fun. Crews like these make a 4-day trip go much quicker and seem much more bearable.
Fortunately, I have yet to fly with a truly horrible crew where I wanted to gnaw my own arm off by the fourth day. It's just that most MegaWhacker crews tend to be significantly older than myself, lack much of a sense of humor, & tend to stick to themselves on layovers. These crews are known as "slam-click" crews....because the hotel doors go slam, click, and you don't see them again until the next day. With crews like this, I just find something to do on my own.
It's much more enjoyable to have a fun-loving crew that you get along well with. A friendly captain you can converse with makes the legs go much quicker, and you talk & joke with the FA's between flights. During the day you'll typically make plans for the layover, so that gives you something to look forward to.
When I was interning at TWA, an old captain gave me a piece of advice: "Once you become a captain, always take great care of your crew, no matter what it costs you." I've taken that to heart, but would add that I want to be a captain my crews enjoy flying with.
[Used to be a picture of flight crew and myself @ restaurant, taken down for privacy reasons]
This is Steve, Karina, Debbie, and myself at the El Torito restaurant in Sacramento last week. They were a great crew to fly with - we had a lot of fun. Crews like these make a 4-day trip go much quicker and seem much more bearable.
Fortunately, I have yet to fly with a truly horrible crew where I wanted to gnaw my own arm off by the fourth day. It's just that most MegaWhacker crews tend to be significantly older than myself, lack much of a sense of humor, & tend to stick to themselves on layovers. These crews are known as "slam-click" crews....because the hotel doors go slam, click, and you don't see them again until the next day. With crews like this, I just find something to do on my own.
It's much more enjoyable to have a fun-loving crew that you get along well with. A friendly captain you can converse with makes the legs go much quicker, and you talk & joke with the FA's between flights. During the day you'll typically make plans for the layover, so that gives you something to look forward to.
When I was interning at TWA, an old captain gave me a piece of advice: "Once you become a captain, always take great care of your crew, no matter what it costs you." I've taken that to heart, but would add that I want to be a captain my crews enjoy flying with.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Ice Ain't Nice
I flew for Ameriflight today. Yesterday one of their Chieftains threw an alternator belt in Klamath Falls; they sent a mechanic on this morning's UPS flight and I rode along on a later flight for the purpose of flying the plane back once it got fixed. The weather was okay but deteriorating on the way to K-Falls, and I was on the ground for a few hours while the mechanic worked on the plane. Would you believe that you need to take the propeller completely off just to change a stupid alternator belt? Somebody at Lycoming wasn't thinking that one out too well.
Anyways by the time it was together & we got headed back to Portland, the weather was worse & cumulus clouds were layered over the Cascade Range from the surface to FL200 (20,000 ft). I soldiered through the smaller ones and deviated around larger buildups. When I had no choice but to go through a decent buildup, I came out the other side with significantly more ice buildup. Fortunately, there was enough time between buildups for the deice boots to keep up.
Some explanation is in order for non-aviation types. When airplanes fly through visible moisture in freezing temperatures, ice can form on them. This is potentially dangerous; any amount of ice adds weight and drag, decreasing performance. Left unchecked, icing can and has brought airplanes down. Most ice occurs in clouds at temps between -15 and 0 degrees C; cumulus clouds usually contain more icing potential than stratus clouds, although the latter usually cover more territory.
To combat icing, many twin engine aircraft, a few singles, and nearly all turbines incorporate de-ice/anti-ice equipment. This usually consists of heated pitot tubes (airspeed sensors), windshield heat, prop heat and/or engine inlet heat, and wing/tail leading edge protection in one of the following forms: de-ice boots that inflate and break ice up, "hot wings" that heat the surfaces above freezing, or chemical anti-ice systems.
De-ice boots are the cheapest solution and the one used on most piston-powered aircraft; unfortunately, they lose effectiveness over time and cannot be used to fly in icing conditions indefinately. The best solution, no matter what your equipment, is to get out of icing by altering course or altitude, or even turning around if the situation becomes dangerous. Of course, with less power, speed, and altitude capability, your options are more limited in piston powered aircraft...which incidently have the least capable equipment. You've got to be smart flying this equipment in this area of the country in winter, or you can find yourself in a world of hurt, real fast.
Incidently, most of my icing experience took place in California. Yes, we have ice down there in the winter; it's usually not near the surface, but because of mountainous terrain, you're often forced to fly at higher altitudes where it's cold enough for airframe icing.
Anyways by the time it was together & we got headed back to Portland, the weather was worse & cumulus clouds were layered over the Cascade Range from the surface to FL200 (20,000 ft). I soldiered through the smaller ones and deviated around larger buildups. When I had no choice but to go through a decent buildup, I came out the other side with significantly more ice buildup. Fortunately, there was enough time between buildups for the deice boots to keep up.
Some explanation is in order for non-aviation types. When airplanes fly through visible moisture in freezing temperatures, ice can form on them. This is potentially dangerous; any amount of ice adds weight and drag, decreasing performance. Left unchecked, icing can and has brought airplanes down. Most ice occurs in clouds at temps between -15 and 0 degrees C; cumulus clouds usually contain more icing potential than stratus clouds, although the latter usually cover more territory.
To combat icing, many twin engine aircraft, a few singles, and nearly all turbines incorporate de-ice/anti-ice equipment. This usually consists of heated pitot tubes (airspeed sensors), windshield heat, prop heat and/or engine inlet heat, and wing/tail leading edge protection in one of the following forms: de-ice boots that inflate and break ice up, "hot wings" that heat the surfaces above freezing, or chemical anti-ice systems.
De-ice boots are the cheapest solution and the one used on most piston-powered aircraft; unfortunately, they lose effectiveness over time and cannot be used to fly in icing conditions indefinately. The best solution, no matter what your equipment, is to get out of icing by altering course or altitude, or even turning around if the situation becomes dangerous. Of course, with less power, speed, and altitude capability, your options are more limited in piston powered aircraft...which incidently have the least capable equipment. You've got to be smart flying this equipment in this area of the country in winter, or you can find yourself in a world of hurt, real fast.
Incidently, most of my icing experience took place in California. Yes, we have ice down there in the winter; it's usually not near the surface, but because of mountainous terrain, you're often forced to fly at higher altitudes where it's cold enough for airframe icing.
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