Skytrucker The Epilogue

Epilogue

The flight deck of the Airbus 321 is darkened. The instrument displays
are bright and very clear. The Distance Measuring equipment (DME)
clicks down, showing the miles to the next waypoint. A line stretching
up and down the display shows our proposed track. Apart from short
radio transmissions, no one has spoken for some time. I am aware of the
subdued hum of the two huge CFM56 engines that are propelling us
through the rarefied atmosphere that exists at thirty-three thousand
feet. Our speed is seventy-eight per cent of the speed of sound.

The Traffic Collision Avoidance System known as Tee-cass shows that
there is another aircraft some fifteen miles ahead of us, cruising at
the same level as we are. The thought of this separation gives us
comfort because we can only see the flashing of his strobe lights in
the far distance. We arrive at the waypoint and the aircraft
imperceptibly alters course by a few degrees to take up a new heading.
The majority of the passengers are unaware of this necessary change.
They have been given a hot meal, cooked in the microwave ovens and
served by attractive cabin crew. Some of the passengers are watching
the in-flight movie. Some are sleeping in the rather cramped
accommodation. Even after all these years, the charter airlines still
cram as many souls on board as they possibly can.

The push of a button changes the display on the screen to show the
condition of the engines and aircraft systems. All is well, both
engines and the three hydraulic systems are functioning perfectly. The
display returns to indicate our progress over the Bay of Biscay. From
the navigational computers, we are able to accurately predict to
fractions of a minute our arrival time at the subsequent waypoint, a
hypothetical point in space designated by the Air Traffic authorities
in order to maintain order in the crowded skies. Such estimates are,
and always have been essential to allow the controllers to ensure
adequate separation of aircraft. We are exactly on time.

There is a tremendous sense of peace and order here. To chatter without
due cause would be to disturb the tranquillity of the moment. Even in
the cabin, the only sounds come from fractious children and the low
chat of passengers queuing to use the toilets. I consider that the
peace that was very common on night flights on my introduction to
charter flying is the same sensation that I am now experiencing many
years later. The aircraft have changed beyond all recognition. A very
efficient and very expensive Flight Management Computer flies this
aircraft which is hurrying us through the night sky. Compared to the
elderly aircraft that carried happy holidaymakers then, this airplane
is faster, flies higher, uses less fuel and carries more passengers. It
is also very much quieter, although the hysterical outbursts of anti
aircraft protesters would appear to indicate otherwise.

The display shows that we have arrived at the final waypoint. Our track
line on the screen shows a small arrow a few miles ahead. At this
point, we will commence our descent. Even this small calculation is
taken care of by the pre loaded flight plan. When we reach the arrow, a
selection on the autopilot puts the aircraft into a gentle descent. As
we pass between the islands the First Officer who is the handling pilot
disengages the autopilot. He selects the Instrument Landing System
display and watches as the bar moves across the instrument. Smoothly he
turns the aircraft to the left and the bar centres vertically as we
line up on the distant runway. I ask him if he intends to land the
aircraft manually instead of using the autoland facility.. He replies
in the affirmative. The approach is perfect and the mainwheels kiss the
runway.

When we have turned off the runway and we are taxiing towards the
terminal building, he turns to me. He gives me the grin that I have
known since he was just a little boy. I am immensely proud. I have now
completed the full circle from being an eleven year old kid trying to
persuade balsawood model aircraft to fly to this point where I am
sitting in the jump seat of an Airbus watching my son at work. He has
been kind enough to say that his interest in aviation came from me.
That may or may not be a good thing because this industry has had more
than a fair share of difficulties and in the light of the dreadful
events of September 11 2001 the problems are obviously far from being
over. I reiterate, however that I have an enormous sense of pride in
seeing my son taking his place in a business that is unlike any
other.

AH October 2001