In the first installment of “The Madman and the Miracle,” Marc described the life of a commuter. In part 2, he outlined the outlaw Captain, Jack, he was flying with. In part 3, Marc concludes the epic saga, by reliving the miracle flight back to his base, that just may get him there in time to catch the last flight home. He also uses his artistic license to call his three-part blog an “epic saga.”
For me to make my flight home in San Francisco, everything had to go right, and I had to have a little help. We were scheduled to land at 8:30pm and the flight that would get me home to Portland left at 8:39pm. From a different terminal. Outside of security. Flights close their doors 10 minutes before departure. So, you see the problem? There was going to be no way for me to catch that flight unless we were early. Really early. And for us to be early, that meant there could be zero delays from leaving the gate in LAX to de-boarding in SFO.
That was impossible on a normal day, but extra-impossible today, because San Francisco was down to one landing runway because of construction. This meant that there had to be a delay because on most days, there were delays into San Francisco even with two runways in use. With only one runway, a flow time (when air traffic control delays your departure) was almost guaranteed. I wasn’t even hopeless about the prospect of catching the flight home. It wasn’t even something to consider a possibility. It was an immovable fact that I wasn’t going home that night, just as the sun would set in the West. But at crazy Jack’s insistence, we had to at least try.
As we pushed back from the gate in Los Angeles, Jack was already in go mode. He was pushing to do things before our checklists were finished. “I’m going to call for taxi.” (Uh, how are you going to taxi without any engines running?) As a first officer this is annoying at best, because you are “the keeper of the checklists” when on the ground. The captain drives the plane around, while you make sure you have all the data needed for take-off, all the switches are in the right places, and all the boxes are checked. There is a specific order and flow of everything to ensure that nothing is missed. When someone (a lunatic captain), starts pushing to do things out of order, it makes the hairs on your neck stand-up a little, and a red-light go off in your brain, “Okay me, be extra-vigilant, this is how things are missed and stupid s#&% happens.”
Now if you are really concerned, you can raise a protest. “Hey, sorry Captain Speedfiend. I need more time. You need to slow your f’in roll.” Or pull a Scotty from Star Trek, “Sorry Captain, I am giving her all I got.” But there is a part of me that likes to test myself, “There are two engines to start, which takes about 5 minutes; there are final take-off performance numbers to enter; there is a flight control check; there is an “After Start” checklist; there is a an announcement to make to the cabin; followed by a two-part “Before Take-off” checklist; all while talking to the ground controller, and getting all taxi clearances. Normally, the process takes about ten minutes at a minimum. The “wish-I-was-a-test-pilot” part of me wants to see if it can be done in five.
The rush to get everything done is pointless, because out of Los Angeles, generally a flight headed to San Francisco takes off on the north runway, 2-4 Left, which from our parking spot is a 10-to-15-minute taxi. Jack called ground for taxi, just as engine one finished it’s start cycle. Ground control immediately came back, “Taxi to runway two five right.” It took a moment for what Ground said to sink in. Ground had given us the south runway, which was a three-minute taxi for us. I had another engine to start and multiple checklists to run. Of course, there would probably be other airplanes waiting to take off so I would have more time than that.
We turned the corner of taxiway bravo and the end of runway two five right came into view. There were no other airplanes. We were number one for takeoff and had only one engine running. “S#&t!” I said inside my head. I had three minutes to get the second engine started and get everything else done. A normal captain would slow the aircraft down to give us more time. Jack sped up.
“We better hurry up before they change their minds!” More ‘s#%ts’ and firecrackers going off in my brain. My hands blur in front of my eyes as they whirl about the cockpit, flipping switches. My brain starts to steam out of my ears as I try to keep track of everything. Before the second engine start is complete, Jack announces, “Control check.” At the same time, Ground announces,
“Flight 379 switch to tower.” Now I am dialing in tower frequency, completing the engine start, and keeping one eye on the control screen to make sure Jack has a good flight control check and then doing my own flight control check. I key the microphone.
“Tower, flight three seventy-nine, checking in.” Second engine start is complete.
“Flight three seventy-nine, cleared for takeoff.” S#%t!!! I immediately switch to the PA system as Jack keeps rolling onto the runway without stopping.” I key the intercom.
“Flight attendants be seated for departure.” I switch back and run through the checklist. I announce, “Before takeoff checklist complete,” at the same time Jack pushes the throttles up for take-off. My brain circles back through all the steps I was supposed to do to see if I missed anything. In a rushed situation, there is always that nagging feeling that something was missed. Millisecond double-check. Triple-check. Jack pushes the throttles up to takeoff power and announces,
“Check thrust.” I stare at the engine gauges. Our takeoff memo is green. We are good to go. Somehow all the steps have been completed.
“Thrust set,” I respond. As the engines spool up to takeoff thrust and our backs press into our seat with the acceleration, the “Oh s#%ts” in my brain have turned into a “Hell yeah!” We did it. We are rolling. I smile to myself, and think, “Yep, I could have been a test-pilot.” As the wheels lift off I realize that step one of the miracle has happened: zero delays on the ground in LAX. I look at the read-out on our flight computer. We are now showing an 8:20 pm arrival. We are early. Early enough where making the flight home might be a possibility. Still, everything else has to go exactly right.
Stay tuned for next week, when the wordy, self-indulgent author, concludes his three-part blog with part four.
