As an MD-80 captain on a commercial airliner, I also have a lot of details to deal with, but they are so much more cut and dried - packaged to be handled by each crew member who contributes his or her part to make my job that much easier. I'm the final coordinator, like a symphony conductor. I oversee all the details, sometimes by direct query, sometimes by default, to ensure each base is covered and everything happens smoothly and on time. I often reflect on how much personal and professional flying can be so vastly different...and yet, so very similar.
Driving home from the airport after a flight in the twin-engine Beech Baron my husband and I own, I like to do a review of the flight, particularly if it was a solo event. I always think of any flight as kind of a video game with a starting value of 1,000. For each small error, I deduct one point and mentally calculate the results at the end by reviewing the trip's good and not-so-good events. Did I score in the high 900s? If not, why not? What could I have done just a bit better or sooner to alleviate some of the oops or gotchas that so often occur in flight? Perhaps, if the score is not in the "expert" range, it might be time for some more dual instruction?
At the end of my airline flights, the first officer and I will often undertake a similar review. In addition to discussing the pros and cons, I like to stand at the open cockpit door (for a bit of live feedback) and say "thank you" and "goodbye" to my passengers. As they file off my MD-80, I'm continually amazed to hear some of them say "thanks for a safe flight."
Maybe it's a silly assumption on my part, but do they think I'd give them anything but a safe flight? Would any of you? Of course not. We all set out to be safe pilots...but maybe a bit of a description of how that comes to pass is in order.
Some years back Richard Collins wrote an article for AOPA Pilot magazine titled "Six Bits of the Right Stuff." He was referring to the attributes of a good pilot and pointed out "it's not what you know; it's what you do with it" that counts. He said it takes patience, intuition, organization, cool, decisiveness, and coordination to make it all come together.
I'd like to add a few points of my own to illustrate what I've found is needed to survive in the aviation arena for any pilot, from student to experienced pro. In what can be an ego-dominated world of one-upmanship, I think one of the most important attributes of a safe pilot in command is humility - the "I don't know everything" attitude that keeps you constantly cross-checking your data and gathering and using all the available information to make sure you get it right before you commit.
Many years ago, while taxiing for takeoff at Los Angeles International Airport, a PSA pilot noticed that the Delta airplane ahead in line for takeoff had a real problem. Not wanting to broadcast that pilot's faux pas, he politely asked ground control, "Would you ask the Delta flight ahead of us to come up on frequency 135.95 for a moment?" Hearing this nonstandard request, the Delta pilot replied, "Delta pilots are professionals, and we don't use unauthorized frequencies!''
"OK," replied the PSA pilot. "We'll play it your way. For all those listening and the FAA tape, the Delta 727 in front of us still has their very professional gear pins installed!" The silence that ensued was deafening. Shortly thereafter, Delta was heard to request, "Uh, ground, Delta One-Five-Three-Two would like to taxi back to the gate."
Time and again we hear of pilots making mistakes, and most of us thank our lucky stars that some helpful soul was wise enough to let us know about it before it was too late. Making the mistake isn't the problem - we'll all go on making them for years to come. Not having the smarts to admit when you're wrong is. Rather than figure that someone's going to laugh at you, recognize that you're going to learn from it and hopefully you won't make the same mistake twice.
Which brings me to my second attribute of a safe pilot in command - the virtue of watching and listening to others in order to learn from them. As a matter of fact, that's why pilots spend so much time immersing themselves in the world of aviation, be it reading, talking, thinking, or dreaming about flying. Most every airline recurrent training class I've ever attended has turned into a hangar flying session so we could all profit from the experiences of our fellow pilots. As a matter of fact, at my most recent class, the instructor encouraged us to contribute by pointing out he'd prefer to shorten the syllabus rather than forego the hangar tales that he figured would be very instructional for us all.
The airlines hire new pilots on the premise that we'll all be captains one day. The way the seniority system works, you usually get lots of time to watch and listen before you're required to become the chief decision maker. There will be lots of initial ground and flight training, recurrent training, and on-the-job opportunities to learn from other pilots along the way.
Unfortunately, general aviation pilots start off as captains almost immediately, after a relatively short indoctrination period. Many of us fail to see that our position as pilot in command is exactly the same as being an airline captain, but on a slightly different scale. Perhaps if your first instructor had told you that some 40 or 50 flight hours after your first solo, your written, your oral, and your checkride, you would be a "line captain," you'd have viewed it all differently.
So, we're all captains after our initial checkout. That means we each get all the work, frustrations, and problems that exist for airline captains, but without the facilities, assistance, and armies of staffers to help us fit each part of the puzzle together.
When I'm flying for work, I've got a flight dispatcher to make sure the computer spits out the appropriate flight plan and the current weather; a load planner to balance the bags, the fuel, and the folks; flight attendants to take care of the passengers; and caterers, who often drive the flight attendants wild when they load 15 meals for 65 people and no coffee pots in which to brew that mysterious black stuff.
You, on the other hand, have few such resources immediately by your side. However, you do have direct control over most parts of the equation if you'll only take the time to fit it all together. Part of the trick is planning ahead and adding a healthy dose of skepticism to whatever you see or read. Remember Murphy's law: "If something can go wrong, it will!"
Just hoping that things will get better rarely works, as I discovered several years ago while taxing for takeoff out of LaGuardia Airport in New York City. The airport is built on a small spit of landfill and operates under very close quarters and often-crowded conditions. After engine start one day, we received a call from the flight attendants regarding a problem arming the aft galley emergency door slide. I sent the first officer back to check out the situation, and, figuring I'd be nice and move off the starting spot that served several other airline gates, I began to taxi for takeoff.
I anticipated that the first officer would return shortly and we could continue on our checklists. The longer I waited, the slower I taxied forward, wishing he'd hurry up and get back to the cockpit. I needed him to spot traffic, clear my right side, talk to the tower, confirm the radio instructions, and perform the numerous checks we routinely accomplish on taxi out.
There was a constant stream of traffic headed in the opposite direction. When the first officer returned and announced he couldn't fix the problem with the slide, we managed to inch our way back to the gate, which took another 30 minutes. The repairs took only minutes, but I learned my lesson. Don't go until it's right; it's not going to get any better. Take the time now and get it fixed properly, so you won't waste time later.
Had I taken the extra 10 minutes when we first realized we had a problem and stayed parked at the starting spot, we could have called for a mechanic to walk out to the airplane, board via the aft air stairs, and fix the offending slide. Trying to pretend it would be all right and taxiing out was a poor choice. Next time, I'll be skeptical of the "self-healing" theory of aircraft maintenance and get it fixed before a minor delay turns into a 45-minute nightmare.
Speaking of skepticism, I think we've all got to adopt a rather Murphy-like stance and plan for the worst. That way we won't be too surprised when things don't turn out the way we expected. Take the initiative to question anything that seems improbable or strange given your current situation. Does that clearance sound wrong? Has someone got you confused with another airplane at another location? Do you wonder why you're being assigned a downwind runway for takeoff?
Then ask! Air traffic control instructions aren't gospel, nor are pilot reports or the observations of your flight instructor. Anything that sounds wrong in aviation should be challenged, lest you find yourself wishing later you had done just that. By taking time now to plan for what might happen, you'll often find yourself avoiding the worst. Instead, you will do enough "what-if" planning to provide you with those life-saving alternatives.
I think a lot of my "street smarts" or "air smarts" comes from general aviation flying, where we are the coordinators of all the details and have to dig for the information we want. If the chart doesn't show the runway data you need, you look it up; if the METAR or terminal area forecast you need isn't available, you ask for it by name. You're the detective, and it's your job to find out exactly what's going on with your specific flight.
Curiosity is an acquired skill and one you should keep honed as you accumulate hours and experience. Don't just swallow information and believe it's got to be that way. Ask for the extra information so that you can consider all the alternatives.
On a recent work flight, the first officer and I taxied from Boston after a lengthy discussion regarding runways available for takeoff. Since our gross weight was low enough to use a shorter runway, we looked forward to becoming airborne quickly and getting back on schedule. As we approached the intersection at the longer runway, we were told to get in line behind a string of airplanes needing the extra concrete. I spoke up and told ground control we could use Runway 9 and had understood there would be no delay. He snapped back at us to turn right and get in line with everyone else. I shrugged my shoulders and told my first officer that at least we'd tried and someone now knew we were willing to help speed things up.
Several seconds later we heard a different ground controller clear us to "disregard previous instructions and taxi to Runway 9." I smiled and voiced my satisfaction to my first officer, feeling the sting of that previous reprimand fade into oblivion. I'm glad I spoke up when I did; there's rarely any harm in voicing your concerns and asking "Why?" in an appropriate, polite, inquiring manner.
I've mentioned a number of attributes that I consider indispensable for the savvy pilot in command: humility, watching and listening, skepticism, and curiosity. Another crucial attribute deals with acquiring good habit patterns - specifically, using checklists. It's kind of like wearing a watch - once you're used to it, you feel naked without one.
Checklists come in all shapes and sizes: long, short, simple, and complex. At work I use one that contains 12 different sections: Receiving Aircraft, Before Start, After Start, Taxi, Before Takeoff, After Takeoff, Descent, Approach, Landing, After Landing, Parking, and Termination. Without the checklist, we don't go. As a matter of fact, we have two laminated copies of each checklist on board, plus paper copies in our flight manuals.
When we first get to the airplane to begin a flight, we set up the cockpit by checking out all the systems. Then I call for the checklist. The first officer reads, and I respond to some 30-plus items before we're ready to close the main cabin door, push back, and start our engines.
At home in the Baron, my husband and I use a similar checklist that's modeled after the manufacturer's recommendations, whittled down to what's important to us. We have nine sections, including Before Engine Start, After Start, Runup, Before Takeoff, Cruise, Approach, Before Landing, After Landing, and Securing Aircraft. As the name implies, it's a checklist, not a do list. We use it to make sure all of the proper actions have been accomplished and that we haven't forgotten something important.
The best part of our checklist is on the flip side, which is printed on colored paper to easily distinguish it from the checklist side. Digging through the Baron's flight manual, we found and listed those all-important speeds for takeoff (normal and short field), climb (normal, best rate, and best angle), approach speeds (for normal and short-field approaches) and, of course, those crucial single-engine speeds. The go-around procedure is also listed as well as rough air penetration speeds at three different gross weights. Finally, the crosswind limits are printed as a reminder, along with a sectional chart measuring scale, a sample pilot report, and a flight plan format, just in case I need to file a flight plan en route. The card is long enough to make a good straight edge for drawing courses or measuring distances and, in a pinch, it's a great cooling fan, fly swatter, or sun shade.
I recommend that you make your own checklist for the airplane you fly and tailor it to your needs. If you rent more than one type, make a personal checklist for each one. Most importantly, use it before each phase of flight by first completing your flow pattern or sequence of gauge readings and switch movements. Then, pick up your checklist and call out each item, out loud, and then check to make sure it's done with a visual as well as verbal confirmation.
Good checklist discipline is just one cornerstone of safe flying. It goes hand in hand with staying abreast of the weather and filing flight plans. Statistics show that pilots who file VFR flight plans get a weather briefing 90 percent of the time, while those who are filing instrument flight plans get one about 95 percent of the time. In stark contrast, pilots who don't file flight plans get a weather briefing less than 40 percent of the time. The sobering fact that more than 73 percent of all weather-related accidents occurred on flights that were conducted without a flight plan - and likely without a weather briefing - points to another chink in the armor of casual pilots who display a careless attitude toward safety.
But those of you who take the time to read - and heed - safety information have demonstrated the last, and probably most important attribute of a good pilot in command - the never-ending quest for just one more hangar tale. You know the importance of continuing your aviation education.
It's kind of like the old joke about growing old... it ain't that wonderful, but it sure beats the alternative. Allowing your flying knowledge to stagnate is akin to sticking your head in the sand. It is a time-consuming process, but your enjoyment of flying and longevity as a pilot depend on the constant fine-tuning of your aviation education. As I tell my students, the best part of flying is the learning that they will do throughout their aviation careers, be they recreational or professional pilots.
As I mentioned earlier, I get a lot of my aeronautical education handed to me on a platter at work. It takes the form of twice-yearly ground schools, recurrent training, proficiency checks, quarterly and seasonal pamphlets, daily bulletins, and a pilot's read-and-initial book that's must reading before each series of flights. As a professional pilot, I am basically force-fed data at every step.
General aviation pilots, on the other hand, have to work at staying up to date with changes and additions. As GA pilots, we need to seek out information on the Internet, attend seminars, subscribe to magazines and news- letters, as well as read all the books and publications we can find to become proactive in our own ongoing aviation education. For an eye-opener, attend a CFI refresher clinic, even if you're not a CFI. Regardless of your ratings, you'll find it packed with lots of timely, important information, plus lots of good review on subjects you're already familiar with. (Visit AOPA Online [ www.aopa.org/asf/schedules ] for a list of AOPA Air Safety Foundation flight instructor refresher clinics.)
Just remember that when it comes to flying, you're the boss and you are the one who makes safety a reality. The habits we've discussed - humility, watching and listening, being skeptical as well as curious, using checklists, and keeping your learning process in perpetual motion - can be best acquired by practicing them. With good advance preparation and thorough preflight planning, you'll find your flight operations to be consistently safe and enjoyable ones.
Karen Kahn is a captain for a major U.S. airline and author of the book Flight Guide for Success-Tips and Tactics for the Aspiring Airline Pilot. Type-rated in the MD-80 and Lockheed JetStar, she's an FAA aviation safety counselor; holds an ATP certificate; is a Gold Seal CFI:AIM; and is rated in gliders, seaplanes, and helicopters. Contact her at ( www.AviationCareerCounseling.com ).