My last couple of airline trips have been to Europe but this month the magic bidding machine gave me a 10-day Pacific trip. It started out really well – a deadhead (DH) leg to a layover.  That rough day was followed by a flight to Honolulu for a 42-hour layover. After that we had to actually start working – well, flying. From Honolulu we flew to Tokyo for a layover and then back to Honolulu. That was followed by a flight to Osaka and back. Yeah, I know,  a winter trip with three Honolulu layovers. Somebody had to do it.

Our flight to Osaka took us on a southern route to try and avoid the strong jetstream winds that were present in the Pacific this week.  One of our enroute alternates for this flight was Wake Island, an atoll about half way between Honolulu and Guam.  Wake has a 9800’ runway and is controlled by the U.S. Air Force but it is available to air carriers as one of the few alternates in a very large ocean. Our route took us almost directly over the “island.” The weather was actually good enough to snap a few shots as we went by at FL380.  According to Wikipedia the atoll is about 12 nm long. It doesn’t look like a place where I would want to spend much time. We speculated about how long we would be staying there if we actually had to divert to their runway.

Those strong winds resulted in a 10:30 flight time to Osaka while the return to Honolulu was completed in 7:50.  Here is a photo of our Airbus A-330 cockpit instruments for the return flight. The PFD (Primary Flight Display) on the left shows that we are level at FL390, indicating an airspeed of about 252 knots (mach .814) and flying a heading of about 089 degrees with the altimeter set to STD (29.92 “Hg). The top lines on the PFD show, left to right, The autothrust system is holding a mach speed, the vertical navigation is in the Altitude Cruise mode and the horizontal mode is Navigating according to the pre-programmed flight plan. Autopilot 2 is in command, both Flight Directors #1 and #2 are operating and Autothrust is engaged.

The screen on the right is called the ND (Navigation Display). The green flight plan course line is showing in the center of the screen and a user-generated fix called FIR is about 150 nm in front of the airplane. That is a fix that I programmed into the navigation system at the dividing line between the Flight Information Regions of Tokyo and San Francisco (Officially RJJJ – Fukuoka and KZAK – Oakland). The information in the top right of the screen shows that we are navigating toward waypoint 31E70 (North 31 degrees, East 170 degrees) which is at a heading of 088 degrees and 404 nm from our current position. The Flight Management System estimates we will arrive at that point at 15:10 Zulu Time.

The top left corner shows that we have a ground speed of 623 knots and a True Airspeed of  472 knots. The winds at the current position are from 264 degrees at 152 knots and the wind arrow shows that it is almost a direct tailwind. We were flying almost in the core of the jetstream in very smooth air. We had occasional light chop, but it was mainly a very enjoyable ride.

I have one more leg left on this trip -  back to the winter wonderland.  Next month I’m back to flying European trips.  It’s a nice change of pace, but I actually prefer the Asian trips. Maybe it has something to do with the warmer weather and more relaxed flying environment.

We successfully completed another two crossings of the North Atlantic to complete our six-day trip. Our flight back to Europe was with the same plane with the inoperative APU that had caused us all the problems on the previous crossing. This time, however, things went smoothly. One important factor was that the plane had been plugged into the jetway power cord all night and it had not been raining. My guess on the problem we had with our rainy-night arrival was that the power plug had probably been hanging from the jetway with the pin portion of the plug facing up into the rain. Any moisture spanning the pins of the plug would have been sensed by the aircraft power system and rejected as a short. So even with the cord plugged in and the jetway system saying it was working, the aircraft wouldn’t accept it as a valid source of power.

Our engine start at the departure gate followed by the pushback and cross-bleed start went smoothly (it helped having gone through the whole process the previous day) and we were soon on our way again.

I had the first break so, after filling out the flight plan times and checking that all was going well, I left the other two to find their way to Newfoundland and our coast-out fix for the crossing.  The dispatcher had advised us during our flight briefing that we should have a nice smooth flight and that although the weather at our destination was at that time not very good  it was forecast to improve by the end of our eight hour flight time.

The first lie was that the flight would be smooth. So much for me getting any sleep during my break. Light to moderate rocking just doesn’t put me to sleep. The ten hours of sleep that I got the night before probably didn’t help either.  I returned to the cockpit and the captain took his break just as we were crossing the North Atlantic coastline. The crossing was fairly routine with intermittent light turbulence. We had been keeping track of the weather at our destination and discovered the second dispatch lie – the weather wasn’t improving. For a while it even got worse.

The captain came back to his seat and the other first officer went on break as we crossed the Scottish coastline. Once we were in VHF datalink range we were able to get the latest ATIS for our destination. The conditions were holding pretty steady at 100’ scattered, 200’ broken, mist and RVR readings of 350m, 450m, 450m. The visibility requirement to fly a CAT I ILS to the active runway is 550m while the CAT II minimums are 300m. So, the weather was good enough to fly a CAT II approach. We made the decision to brief and fly a CAT III approach in this case because the weather was not improving and could easily drop down below the CAT II minimums by the time we were ready to land. The CAT III minimums for this runway are 75 m which gave us plenty of weather deterioration space.

For CAT III ILS approaches we couple the autopilots to the aircraft and let it fly and land automatically. There is no height above the ground at which we must see the runway. We set an Alert Height into the autoflight system at 100’ AGL measured by the Radio Altimeter. The aircraft gives an aural indication approaching and reaching the alert height. As long as we have not received any autopilot or auto-throttle warnings or equipment capability downgrades by that time we just let the aircraft flare and land on it’s own. We manually reduce the power to idle and deploy the thrust reversers but the airplane does everything else.  In this case the weather was good enough that we saw the runway approach lights a little above the alert height, probably around 125-150’ AGL.

Once the aircraft is on the runway and slowing to a safe taxi speed we have to remember to disconnect the autopilot before trying to exit the runway. The aircraft will resist any attempts to turn since the last thing it was told to do was track the ILS localizer. The next challenge with the low visibility is finding the gate at the terminal. Most air carrier airports that routinely experience these low visibilities have a system in place to help you find your way. The taxiways have centerline lights (green) that illuminate to show you the correct route and signs are placed at the edge of the taxiway to indicate points where you call the ground controller and confirm your position. More airports are now installing ground position radar so that the controllers can follow your progress on the ground.

We had landed on the runway farthest from the terminal so it took us a while to get to our gate. We finally made it, deplaned the passengers and worked our way through the customs and immigration process. Finally it was time for the layover to begin. I’m getting pretty good at that part.

I’m half way through my first trip of the month, meaning I just finished my second Atlantic crossing. Once we get into the air the flights are usually fairly uneventful. The hard part, it seems, is getting away from and into the terminal.

Our flight back to the U.S. yesterday left the gate an hour late. When we got to the airplane the gate agent informed she had been told to delay boarding passengers because maintenance needed to do an engine run.  Hmm, maybe she meant the APU. It had been written up by the inbound crew. The dispatcher hadn’t mentioned anything about the engines when we had received our flight briefing 15 minutes ago.

It turned out that the maintenance post-flight inspection had revealed more than normal oil in the bottom of the cowling of one of our engines. Further inspection led them to the suspect part and the discovery of some damaged rubber O-ring seals. Apparently the seals had been damaged during installation when the part had received attention at a previous station.  The local mechanics had removed the part again, replaced the seals and reinstalled the unit. Now they needed to run the engine to make sure that the seals were correctly doing their sealing job.

The process was further complicated because the APU had been placed on sick leave for the flight . That meant that a ‘start cart’ would be needed to provide air to the engine’s starter. It is not normal to have a start cart positioned at each airline gate so one had to be located and then brought to our gate, connected to the plane and then put into operation. The maintenance crew took over the cockpit and ran their checklist, started the engine, inspected it while it was running and shut it down. The O-ring seals where operating as designed. Now the paperwork process started.

We returned to the cockpit and started our checklists while the passenger boarding process began. Our passengers where seated in record time and our final checks were made and the boarding door was closed. We were ready to start the engines and the pushback crew was ready outside but the paperwork wasn’t complete. Our departure procedures now require that we have all of our passenger and cargo information in hand before we push back from the gate.  In anticipation of this happening efficiently, we coordinated with the ground controller to start one engine at the gate so that we could disconnect the electrical cord that was providing us power and disconnect the start cart that was providing the air to operate the engine starter. That would put us on ‘aircraft power’ and allow us to be pushed back. We were soon sitting at the gate with our right engine at idle and all umbilical cords disconnected. But we still didn’t have our load information.

The problem appeared to be centered on the maintenance that had been performed on the aircraft and it’s effect on our ETOPS capability. Our load data and take-off information was ‘locked out’ until maintenance entered into their system that the aircraft was repaired and certified as ETOPS qualified.  The APU on this aircraft is capable of being started and operated in flight and is our back-up source of electrical power in case of an engine failure. The lack of an operational APU removes our back-up electrical source. Several other types of maintenance operations added to that failure can disqualify the aircraft from ETOPS operations. We would then require a flight plan routing that insured suitable landing alternates within a specific distance. If no alternates were available or  if the weather at those alternates was not suitable we would not be able to depart at all.

It took almost a half hour, but the maintenance lock-out was removed and we were finally cleared to depart on our original route. The pushback went smoothly and we used the operating engine to provide air to start the remaining engine, a process called a cross-bleed start. We were soon on our way back to the U.S. Our cruise speed of Mach .82 doesn’t often allow us to pass other flights, but one aircraft with a slower cruise than us is the Boeing 767. We passed this Delta flight just as we were crossing the southern tip of Greenland.The lighting wasn’t very good and there isn’t too much to see in Greenland this time of year that isn’t white, but I took the shot anyway.

The flight went smoothly until we arrived at our destination – at night, in the rain.  The approach and landing went fine, but we soon found ourselves sitting at a terminal gate with one engine running – again. We had send a text message to our destination reminding them that we did not have an APU and would need external electrical power connected to the aircraft before we could shut down the engines. We called and reminded them again after we cleared the runway and were making our way to the gate. Then we stopped at the gate and waited for the electrical cord to be plugged in. The jetway electrical cord wasn’t working and the ground crew would have to go find an electrical cart and bring it to the gate. I have no idea where airports store these things, but it always seems to be a half hour away from wherever they are needed.  Another one of those unwritten laws of airline operations.

At least the hotel van was sitting there waiting for us.

I finally  was able to go flying in my plane a couple of days ago, the first time this year.  It was just a short local flight for a little sightseeing and then six patterns to remind myself that I could still land the Swift.They were actually pretty good landings for being off for so long. I can say that since nobody was along to refute my claim.

I finished up my airline training flight and commuted back home just before Christmas. Unfortunately two days later my name was on the sick roster. I caught some sort of viral thing that took almost two weeks to clear up enough that I could call myself airworthy. I didn’t make any friends in the scheduling department by calling in sick over Christmas and New Year’s, but I had no choice.

Just when I thought I would be able to spend some time at the airport a weather system moved in that nixed any plans that I had for flying. A big high pressure system was camped overhead and a low off the west coast was pumping some warmer temperatures and moisture into the area. The higher temperatures coupled with the moisture and the remaining snow on the ground set up great conditions for the formation of fog. We also had a rare set of days with little to no wind to clear things out. Every morning I’d get up, look out the window and call the AWOS number to see what it was like at the airport. And every day the computer-generated voice would say “sky obscured 100′ overcast, visibility less than 1/4.” Not great weather for driving, much less flying. Most of the days the low clouds and fog would hang around until mid to late afternoon, breaking up and lifting enough to barely be called VFR  shortly before sundown.  One day I went out to the hangar anyway and got the plane ready to fly, turned on my home-made engine pre-heater and went across the taxiway to see what my neighbor was doing. About 45 minutes later I figured that the engine was heated enough ( the outside temps had been around 45 degrees during the day) and I’d have about 45 minutes of daylight left. I walked out of his hanger to go back to mine and found that it was raining! I couldn’t win. I unplugged the heater and headed home again.

A couple of days later I had again been keeping track of the AWOS recording and heard that the overcast was beginning to break up, so I headed for the airport again. The plane was ready to go, so I plugged in the heater and then went to the local cheap gas place and filled up my truck. By the time I got back the engine was toasty warm (oil temp registering 80F), so I pulled it out and started up. There was still a high overcast, but the valley where the airport is located was clear. Once I got into the air it became obvious that I wasn’t going to be going very far from the airport. There is a low ridge about 5 minutes north of Stead.  Highway 395 travels through a little pass on it’s way northwest to Susanville, CA. You can see in this photo that I took looking over the cowling that the low clouds and fog  had only receded as far as that low pass. The view was the same to the east, but to the west there was another clear valley, so I headed that way.

When I had taken off the AWOS said that the temperature was 43F at the field elevation of 5100′. I was cruising at 7500′ and my OAT gauge said it was 51F.  Hmm. Out of curiosity I fired up my handheld GPS (an old Lowrance) and checked my progress. The GPS said I was doing 140 mph over the ground as I headed west. I plugged in a few more numbers and found that my TAS was about 155 mph. A bit of a headwind. When I got to the west end of the valley I turned back and headed NE. My GPS groundspeed jumped up to 185.  The flight at cruise was surprisingly smooth, even with that wind in the area.

I did encounter some turbulence as I descended into the traffic pattern and got below the ridge tops, but it wasn’t much more than occasional moderate bumps. The traffic pattern was empty, so I practiced landings for a while. I managed six circuits before another plane made an appearance – the benefits of flying mid-afternoon on a weekday. We have an aerobatic school on the field and their practice area is right above the airport starting at 2000′ above pattern altitude. The Decathlon that took off was heading for the aerobatic box.

It was getting late and I had a safety seminar to attend that night, so I made a full stop landing and headed for the fuel pumps to top off the tanks. That accomplished, I put the plane back into it’s hangar and put the covers back on. I had a feeling that the weather forecast for winds the next day was going to be correct.

The next day dawned clear and windy. By 7 am the gusts were hitting 40 mph at our house. So, I spent the day getting things ready to go back to work.  Four letter word.  I have a 6-day European trip coming up, followed by two days off (which is too little to make it home and back to work) and then a 9-day Asia trip. At least I managed to get one flight in for the new year. Maybe next month the weather will be more favorable for VFR flying. One can only hope.

Spring is right around the corner, right?