j41driver
Well-known member
- Joined
- Mar 31, 2002
- Posts
- 1,300
One fine hot Summer's afternoon there was a Cessna 150 flying in the pattern at a
quiet country airfield. The Instructor was getting quite bothered with the
student's inability to maintain altitude in the thermals and was getting
impatient at sometimes having to take over the controls. Just then he saw a
twin engine Cessna 5,000ft above him and thought "Another 1,000 hrs of this
and I qualify for that twin charter job! Aaahh.. to be a real pilot..
going somewhere!"
The Cessna 402 was already late and the boss told him this charter was for
one of the Company's premier clients. He'd already set MCT and the
cylinders didn't like it in the heat of this Summer's day. He was at
6,000ft and the winds were now a 20kt headwind. Today was the 6th day
straight and he was pretty **CENSORED****CENSORED****CENSORED****CENSORED** tired of fighting these engines. Maybe if
he got 10,000ft out of them the wind might die off... geez those cylinder
temps! He looked out momentarily and saw a B737 leaving a contrail at
33,000ft in the serene blue sky. "Oh man" he thought, "My interview is next
month. I hope I just don't blow it! Outa G/A, nice jet job, above the
weather... no snotty passengers to wait for.. aahhh."
The Boeing 737 bucked and weaved in the heavy CAT at FL330 and ATC advised
that lower levels were not available due traffic. The Captain, who was only
recently advised that his destination was below RVR minimums had slowed to
LRC to try and hold off a possible inflight diversion, and arrange an ETA
that would helpfully ensure the fog had lifted to CATII minima. The Company
negotiations broke down yesterday and looked as if everyone was going to
take a **CENSORED****CENSORED****CENSORED****CENSORED** pay cut. The F/O's will be particularly hard hit as their pay
wasn't anything to speak of anyway. Finally deciding on a speed compromise
between LRC and turbulence penetration, the Captain looked up and saw
Concorde at Mach 2+. Tapping his F/O's shoulder as the 737 took another
bashing, he said "Now THAT'S what we should be on... huge pay ... super
fast... not too many routes... not too many legs... above the CAT... yep!
What a life...!"
FL590 was not what he wanted anyway and considered FL570. Already the TAT
was creeping up again and either they would have to descend or slow down.
That **CENSORED****CENSORED****CENSORED****CENSORED** rear fuel transfer pump was becoming unreliable and the F/E had
said moments ago that the radiation meter was not reading numbers that he'd
like to see. Concorde descended to FL570 but the radiation was still quite
high even though the Notam indicated hunky dory below FL610. Fuel flow was
up and the transfer pump was intermittent. Evening turned into night as
they passed over the Atlantic. Looking up, the F/O could see a tiny white
dot moving against the backdrop of a myriad of stars. "Hey Captain" he
called as he pointed. "Must be the Shuttle. "The Captain looked for a
moment and agreed. Quietly he thought how a Shuttle mission, while
complicated, must be the-be-all-and-end-all in aviation. Above the crap, no
radiation problems, no **CENSORED****CENSORED****CENSORED****CENSORED** fuel transfer problems... aaah. Must be a
great way to earn a buck."
Discovery was into its 27th orbit and perigee was 200ft out from nominated
rendezvous altitude with the commsat. The robot arm was virtually U/S and a
walk may become necessary. The 200ft predicted error would necessitate a
corrective burn and Discovery needed that fuel if a walk was to be required.
Houston continually asked what the Commander wanted to do but the advice
they proffered wasn't much help. The Commander had already been 12 hours on
station sorting out the problem and just wanted 10 minutes to himself to
take a leak. Just then a mission specialist, who had tilted the telescope
down to the surface for a minute or two, called the Commander to the scope.
"Have a look at this Sir, isn't this the kinda flying you said you wanted to
do after you finish up with NASA?" The Commander peered through the
telescope and cried "Ooooohhhhh yeah! Now THAT'S flying! Man, that's what
its all about! Geez I'd give my left nut just to be doing THAT down there!"
What the Discovery Commander was looking at was a Cessna 150 in the pattern
at a quiet country airfield on a nice bright sunny afternoon.
Boy, I'll tell you...pilots are never happy unless they are drinking beer
and looking for a better job!
quiet country airfield. The Instructor was getting quite bothered with the
student's inability to maintain altitude in the thermals and was getting
impatient at sometimes having to take over the controls. Just then he saw a
twin engine Cessna 5,000ft above him and thought "Another 1,000 hrs of this
and I qualify for that twin charter job! Aaahh.. to be a real pilot..
going somewhere!"
The Cessna 402 was already late and the boss told him this charter was for
one of the Company's premier clients. He'd already set MCT and the
cylinders didn't like it in the heat of this Summer's day. He was at
6,000ft and the winds were now a 20kt headwind. Today was the 6th day
straight and he was pretty **CENSORED****CENSORED****CENSORED****CENSORED** tired of fighting these engines. Maybe if
he got 10,000ft out of them the wind might die off... geez those cylinder
temps! He looked out momentarily and saw a B737 leaving a contrail at
33,000ft in the serene blue sky. "Oh man" he thought, "My interview is next
month. I hope I just don't blow it! Outa G/A, nice jet job, above the
weather... no snotty passengers to wait for.. aahhh."
The Boeing 737 bucked and weaved in the heavy CAT at FL330 and ATC advised
that lower levels were not available due traffic. The Captain, who was only
recently advised that his destination was below RVR minimums had slowed to
LRC to try and hold off a possible inflight diversion, and arrange an ETA
that would helpfully ensure the fog had lifted to CATII minima. The Company
negotiations broke down yesterday and looked as if everyone was going to
take a **CENSORED****CENSORED****CENSORED****CENSORED** pay cut. The F/O's will be particularly hard hit as their pay
wasn't anything to speak of anyway. Finally deciding on a speed compromise
between LRC and turbulence penetration, the Captain looked up and saw
Concorde at Mach 2+. Tapping his F/O's shoulder as the 737 took another
bashing, he said "Now THAT'S what we should be on... huge pay ... super
fast... not too many routes... not too many legs... above the CAT... yep!
What a life...!"
FL590 was not what he wanted anyway and considered FL570. Already the TAT
was creeping up again and either they would have to descend or slow down.
That **CENSORED****CENSORED****CENSORED****CENSORED** rear fuel transfer pump was becoming unreliable and the F/E had
said moments ago that the radiation meter was not reading numbers that he'd
like to see. Concorde descended to FL570 but the radiation was still quite
high even though the Notam indicated hunky dory below FL610. Fuel flow was
up and the transfer pump was intermittent. Evening turned into night as
they passed over the Atlantic. Looking up, the F/O could see a tiny white
dot moving against the backdrop of a myriad of stars. "Hey Captain" he
called as he pointed. "Must be the Shuttle. "The Captain looked for a
moment and agreed. Quietly he thought how a Shuttle mission, while
complicated, must be the-be-all-and-end-all in aviation. Above the crap, no
radiation problems, no **CENSORED****CENSORED****CENSORED****CENSORED** fuel transfer problems... aaah. Must be a
great way to earn a buck."
Discovery was into its 27th orbit and perigee was 200ft out from nominated
rendezvous altitude with the commsat. The robot arm was virtually U/S and a
walk may become necessary. The 200ft predicted error would necessitate a
corrective burn and Discovery needed that fuel if a walk was to be required.
Houston continually asked what the Commander wanted to do but the advice
they proffered wasn't much help. The Commander had already been 12 hours on
station sorting out the problem and just wanted 10 minutes to himself to
take a leak. Just then a mission specialist, who had tilted the telescope
down to the surface for a minute or two, called the Commander to the scope.
"Have a look at this Sir, isn't this the kinda flying you said you wanted to
do after you finish up with NASA?" The Commander peered through the
telescope and cried "Ooooohhhhh yeah! Now THAT'S flying! Man, that's what
its all about! Geez I'd give my left nut just to be doing THAT down there!"
What the Discovery Commander was looking at was a Cessna 150 in the pattern
at a quiet country airfield on a nice bright sunny afternoon.
Boy, I'll tell you...pilots are never happy unless they are drinking beer
and looking for a better job!
