It was just last night that I demonstrated my proficiency with the 100,000-pound Boeing to the FAA by guiding the ship, all dressed up in Continental Airlines livery, through the Nebraska skies near Omaha. For nearly an hour as we strutted the approach courses into Omaha and neighboring airports, I was Captain Phillips. With first two and then one, and then two engines humming, I briefly realized a permanently postponed dream of flying for the majors.
What's so remarkable about flying heavy iron? With nearly 7,000 flight hours, my logbook tallies less than 50 hours of multiengine pilot-in-command time. At that, the heaviest twin I've flown was the beefy little Piper Seneca. What was it like for a general aviation pilot to make that quantum leap from piston to turbojet? And why?
One day, a colleague who sells and coordinates a major airline's training for contract customers asked, "How'd you like to teach our clients to fly 737s? The pay is good, you can instruct on your own schedule, and you can teach until you're dead (no age 60 limit). Best of all, you might have some fun. All you need is a 737 type rating."
The idea of teaching at, but not flying for, an airline as a career path is not far-fetched. With hiring at an all-time high, airline training departments are stretched thin. Some airlines will hire contract instructors to teach systems, procedures, and some simulator sessions. To conduct simulator training, you need a B-737 type rating.
Another reason someone would contemplate investing in the "type" is to bolster personal flying credentials and make oneself more marketable in the job market. For example, Southwest Airlines won't accept an application unless the pilot holds a B-737 type rating.
Imagine sitting at the table that night with a lifemate of 22 years (if you do the math, it puts me well past the average age of new-hire airline pilots) and asking, "What do you think about me spending the better part of the $10,000 we saved for remodeling the basement so I can learn how to fly a Boeing 737?"
With support uncommon to most aviators' spouses, my wife, Cindy, told me to "go for it." With the official green light, my research began. Two basic programs are available to pilots who want a B-737 type rating, and the federal aviation regulations dictate which path a pilot must pursue - and the expense.
If you're a pilot with some time flying in the military or have a real job driving a kerosene-powered airplane, you'll probably qualify for the economy route to the rating. Under the FARs, it's possible to earn a B-737 rating by demonstrating your proficiency in an FAA-approved, full-motion 737 advanced simulator only. These contraptions are so realistic it's possible to log landings in the "sim" (including the teeth rattling "arrivals").
To bypass a 30 to 50 minute checkride in a real B-737, and the Boeing's $55 per minute rental fee, you must meet one of the following criteria:
Because I didn't qualify for the simulator-only track, I had to ante up and fly a real, honest-to-goodness 737 (oh, darn!).
In searching for a school I quickly discovered that the cost of a B-737 type rating can vary dramatically. Do you want to do it exactly like a United Airlines new-hire (except for the company indoctrination)? According to UAL Flight Training Services' Monty Thompson, for around $12,000 you get 28 to 32 days of training (airplane not included), if you can team up with at least one other student. The United program includes not only ground school and simulator training, but evacuation and ditching, cockpit resource management, and line-oriented flight training (LOFT).
FlightSafety International's Long Beach, California, Learning Center also offers a month-long 737 type rating course, but its cost can be as high as $15,000 if you're the only pilot in class. Additionally, the company requires a minimum of 3,000 hours of total flight time to enroll.
Not able to swing the time or the money for these courses, I perused the aviation trade journals that cater to future airline pilots. I found a half-dozen or so display ads for "type schools" that offer 737 training. For simulator-only courses their costs were in the mid-$6,000 range, and between $8,500 and $9,000 for those who had to fly the real thing.
When you talk to school representatives you want to ask about several important things such as the inclusion of examiner and lodging fees in the price, and the availability of courtesy ground transportation. A school might cancel a given class date because it didn't recruit the minimum number of students, or you might face hefty surcharges if you're the only student in class. Deposits may be non-refundable in any circumstance.
Some schools don't welcome low-time pilots and set high entrance requirements. A few schools offer only a "Restricted" B-737 type rating to a piston pilot like myself, which means no airplane flight test option. The FAA removes the restriction once the pilot completes "Initial Operating Experience" at an airline.
After my research I selected Jet Tech International in Phoenix (800-FLY-JETS). Founded more than six years ago by US Airways pilot Shane LoSasso, the company has earned an industry reputation for training more pilots for the 737 type rating than any other similar organization. I figured the school must have it "right" by now.
Jet Tech's manager, Larry Stephens, said the 13-day course (called Program A) is under FAR 61 and includes 50 minutes in the real airplane. It costs $8,995, and you can enroll with a commercial/instrument ticket, but you should have advanced instrument skills. The course has no flight time requirement. It also includes lodging, courtesy transportation, and the examiners' fees. Even with one person, a class starts every Thursday, and you pay no additional fees if you're the only student.
In addition, Jet Tech is just about the only type rating school in its price range that has its own in-house simulator, which makes training time efficient and cost effective. Jet Tech's "sim" isn't landing certified, however, so students take their final preparation flights and simulator evaluation at America West's or US Airways' training centers.
Before I enrolled I called several graduates and the local FAA Flight Standards District Office, because rating schools are supervised by FAA operations inspectors who monitor a program's content and quality. I learned that the FAA scrutinizes Jet Tech closely because it trains pilots for airlines around the world. After hearing nothing but commendable reports, I enrolled and paid a $1,500 deposit.
The 737 course includes more than 50 hours of systems ground instruction, four hours of cockpit procedures training, 22 hours of simulator experience, and 50 minutes in a genuine, kerosene drinking 737! But there is a hitch. Within 48 hours of enrolling, you get an express delivery box that holds no less than 13 pounds of Boeing manuals and checklists covering every system and procedure you'll learn. In addition, Shane LoSasso has authored and edited a mega-manual entitled The Straight Word, which translates Boeing jargon and keys in on "the meat."
With the box of books comes a syllabus. Be prepared to spend at least 80 hours of home study before class starts. This requirement, which runs from a two-hour junket on "Air Conditioning and Pressurization" to eight hours understanding and memorizing "Procedures," is essential to surviving the on-campus ground school. Do not call today and enroll in a class next week. From my perspective, it just cannot be done.
For two months before class began I spent every free moment wrapped up in the manuals, and they include lots of memory items - Don't extend the air stair with winds in excess of 40 knots. Don't exceed 420?C EGT during engine start when outside temperature is above 15?C. Don't use the autopilot roll channel above FL 300 with the yaw damper inoperative.
Finally, after weeks of cramming information into the brain and hoping it wouldn't fall out, it's time to show up for class at 8 a.m. on Thursday. Shortly after the "hello's," you take an 80-question exam that includes a variety of "memory item" scenarios to probe the success of your home study efforts.
For the next five days Jet Tech Instructor Jim Milton pumps more and more information into his two charges - Anne, a FedEx Caravan pilot looking to break into the majors - and me. Diagrams, memory aids, trivia, minutia, more diagrams, facts, figures. Did you know that the forward lavatory flush motor is powered by the No. 1 AC Main Electric Bus and takes less than 10 seconds to flush?
To prepare us for next Tuesday's dreaded oral exams, Jim poured it on from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. every day including the weekend. Although Jim quit at 5 p.m., students don't, and homework included 50-question take-home tests. Finally, after we've reviewed, diagrammed, and dissected the better portion of the B-737, including a pre-flight inspection of a Southwest Airlines 737 parked at Phoenix - it's time for the oral section of the practical test.
For two hours the FAA examiner probes, cajoles, picks, prods, and pokes into the inner recesses of my overloaded gray matter. "What items are powered by the "A" hydraulic system? What happens when you arm the alternate flaps switch? Is this takeoff field- or climb-limited? What conditions must be met to deploy the thrust reversers and how do they operate on both the basic and the advanced airplane? Can you take the extra 2,000 pounds of lobster that the airline's best customer wants to take with him?" Huh?
By noon, the hurdle is hurdled. Pass!
Jet Tech's customer-focused approach and systematic schedule give me some time off between Tuesday's orals and the following Monday to conduct some business back home. But I'm back in class at 1 p.m. on Tuesday afternoon, and former America West pilot and training guru Carl Wobser is the taskmaster.
For six days and six one-hour simulator sessions and two-hour briefings, Carl mercilessly piles on normal procedures, abnormals, fires, engine start aborts, V1 cut after V1 cut, rapid depressurization scenarios, overheats, emergency descents, APU fires, two-engine approaches, single-engine go arounds, landing gear malfunctions, asymmetrical flaps, jammed stabilizer, runaway trim, and more. It finally gels after about the third day as my crewmates and I (Dan, an American Eagle Saab 340 captain, and Don, an Air Force F-16 test pilot) cope with more problems and emergencies than any airline pilot would face in a lifetime of flying.
The time has come! It's flying time. The practical test is in two parts.
In an America West Level C simulator, the FAA examiner turns up the heat for two hours on Tuesday night. We cover heavy duty emergency procedures and flying proficiency demonstrations including stalls, steep turns, and every approach in the book with two engines, one engine, and engines flaming. The examiner throws in a half-dozen or so system failures and glitches to keep it interesting.
Despite every curve ball thrown in that simulator, this ol' boy bats to base hits - maybe not home runs, but definitely in the game. Next, the checkride's final phase - airplane time! I have a date in Omaha with a Boeing a week later, and I fly to Eppley Airport courtesy of Continental Airlines and Jet Tech.
Starting at 10 p.m. I perform an extensive preflight inspection under the watchful eyes of the FAA-designated examiner and a Continental Airlines representative. Then I slip into the cockpit - and it's home. Other than the view out the window, it's just like the familiar 737 simulators I've been flying.
I fire it up, and the CFM-56 engines come alive. Ah, this is a 737-500. No screamy little "Pratts" on this beauty. Then I blast off down the runway - this ain't my ol' Cessna 182!
At 135 knots, I pull the nose up to 15 degrees pitch. "Positive rate...gear up!" I'm looking straight up into the stars at an angle that would render my little Cessna flightless.
Desperately I attempt to maintain the outward appearance of a cool airline captain, but inside I'm revved up. Not since the first solo has anything been so electrifying and exhilarating.
Despite my initial rush, I settle down to business - serious business - and fly the checkride drill. All too soon, though, the 50 minutes are gone and I nudge the Boeing back to the jetway. It's done. Three B-737 landings, along with a few instrument approaches and maneuvers. Everybody was right. It is easier to fly than the simulator.
In retrospect, the most challenging endeavors were these:
I had trouble juggling the tasks of flying, coordinating the crew, and calling for the proper procedures and checklists at the appropriate times. For example, I was flying with an engine out during an IFR approach to minimums, and at decision height I had no airport in sight. In addition to keeping the 737 in the air, the pilot must have the presence of mind to call in sequence "Set go-around thrust...flaps one...positive climb...gear up." At 1,000 feet, the captain announces "Set max continuous thrust...set flaps up...engine failure checklist...after takeoff checklist...engine re-start checklist." Finally, you try not to drown in your own sweat.
The B-737 is extremely pitch sensitive. When it's straight and level, the nose attitude is about five degrees up. Vary from that by three degrees in either direction and the airplane is either climbing into orbit or getting cozy with the terrain. In roll, the Boeing is an elephant. The secret is to shepherd the airplane, to coax and lead it gently. Manhandle this 100,000-pound collection of aerospace parts and the pilot will be plowing a giant slice of sky trying to keep up.
Committing to 80 hours of home study is brutal if you have a life. With so much information to digest, when you start reading about generators three days later you forget that the duct overheat light comes on at 190?F, which triggers a PACK trip-off at 250?F, so you spend a lot of time reviewing.
If you have an instrument rating you can earn a type rating with a private pilot certificate. But during the checkride in the simulator and aircraft, you must fly to airline transport pilot standards. If you're thinking about investing in a type rating, it would be wise to wait until you meet all of the ATP requirements, including the knowledge test. In many cases, you can earn your type rating and ATP during the same checkride. If you earn a type rating as a private or commercial pilot, and then earn your ATP later, there is no "grandfathering." In other words, even though you demonstrated ATP proficiency during the 737 checkride, you were not qualified for the ATP certificate when you took the type ride.
Despite all of the stumbling and fumbling, Jet Tech smoothed out the rough spots and made me a 737 pilot duly certificated by the FAA to fly as a captain. And it's a good thing, too. I see that the lead flight attendant is about ready to make an announcement - and she looks awfully worried about something!
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