Oh No, I Forgot...

Back in Ontario after a great week off. I forgot to pack my laptop's power supply for the first time in 20+ years , and cannot survive without it, so the morning was spent finding a replacement. Radio Shack was just the ticket, but I think the AC adapter cost more than my 2 year old HP laptop is worth! This made me think about all the work-related stuff I need a computer for. Weather, looking at and signing the flight plan (both at the end of the layover each evening and during the hubturn),checking on the maintenance history of the airplane I'll be flying, bidding for vacation, bidding for seat changes, bidding for my monthly line, bidding for training dates, checking on the results of all these bids, getting my paycheck amount, reading safety reports and information files before each flight, reading company email, checking in for a trip when I arrive after a deadhead, entering expense reports, checking open time for trip trades, dropping trips, picking up trips, adjusting monthly lines for vacation or training, calling in sick, calling in well, scheduling jumpseats, reserving deadheads, receiving crew notifications of changes to my schedule, getting hotel and limo info, getting trip info (who I'm flying with, showtimes, etc), performing online annual training, and the list goes on and on. Can't survive without it!

Beauty of Flight

Speaks for itself:
http://www.dogwork.com/owfo8/

Fog in Ontario

When I checked the forecast for Ontario this morning in Fort Worth, the weather was predicted to be no lower than 3 miles visibility for our ETA. I noted that the temperature/dew point spread was a mere 2 degrees, and it seemed likely that the temperature would continue to drop. When these two numbers come together, fog is the result. With no wind to mitigate the situation, the final landing of this duty day would probably be challenging, in spite of the not-so-bad forecast. Enroute, as it always seems to, the visibility began to drop. By the time we were in range and ready to start down from our cruise altitude of 38,000', the touchdown zone on runway 26 left was reporting 1200 RVR, or less than 1/4 mile. We switched to a monitored approach mentality in the cockpit. This means that the First Officer is now in charge of flying the approach down to (in this case) 300' above the ground, freeing the Captain to monitor the whole situation without having to actually fly the airplane. As we came down, the lights on the ground were very visible except where the airport was supposed to be. Very dense fog covered the runway. The runway lead-in lights became visible (barely) through the fog at 500'. At 300', I announced "approaching alert height, I have the airplane" and physically displaced the FO's hand from the throttles. At 100', the runway edge lights had just begun to peek out at us. With this type of approach "Cat 3 with rollout" I do not have to see to land as long as the tower is reporting visibility of at least 600 RVR, and the airplane must autoland. There are about 100 things that have to be working perfectly for all this to come together, and we practice it quite often, but when it's for real, you tend to sit up a little straighter in your seat. This ain't a video game! In the final phase of a monitored approach, my job is to initiate a go around if anything short of perfection occurs. This close to the ground, it's better to get some altitude first and ask "what happened" later. The three autopilots did a great job and we touched down right on centerline, ending another routine night of flying the line.

Flying with a neighbor

This week I'm finally flying with someone I actually know and who also lives in the East Mountains! He just flew his last flight in the reserves before retirement next year, so congrats to Bugsy. We ended up on the same Southwest deadhead to Ontario last night, and we'll be flying from there to Fort Worth every night this week. So far, it looks like we'll actually get to keep the same airplane every night, which is nice b/c we don't have to drag our bags from plane to plane. It's the little things that make a huge difference in the middle of the night.

Down in Norfolk

Broke the airplane in Norfolk last night. We pushed back, eager to get to Indy and back on our last night (FO waiting to start 24 days of vacation, including a trip to Disneyworld from Michigan). Got the left engine started easily, but the right engine fuel valve indicated a fault and would not open to allow fuel to flow. Tried several suggestions by maintenance to no effect. Pulled back into the chocks realizing it would be a long night. Five hours later, they still couldn't get it fixed and we were finally released back to the hotel around 2 am. I changed my deadhead to Albuquerque to this morning at 6:30 and grabbed a 45 minute combat nap and shower before heading back to the airport. Now I'm drooling on myself at DFW on a FOUR HOUR layover b/c I couldn't  get on the better connection due to the Balloon Fiesta attendees grabbing almost all the available seats. Oh well, I'll still get home early afternoon instead of late at night as originally scheduled. Commuting is such fun!

Confessional

After the weekend layover in Richmond, I've been flying between Norfolk and Indy each night. Last night I made the biggest error of my Captaincy, which really wasn't a big deal, but could have been. I lined up on the wrong runway at Indy. There are two parallel and virtually identical runways there, and we were coming in from a direction that put them on the right side of the airplane. That side is very hard to see from my seat on the left side of the cockpit. Because of the city lights, the airport is hard to see, and I just locked onto the far parallel runway instead of the near one, which was not in view when I looked. The First Officer advised me of my error and I made a correction, thanking him. I was tired, but that's no excuse. You can never get complacent in an airplane or it will bite you. If there had been another airplane cleared for an approach to the far side runway, a midair could have occurred (fortunately, there was not). The thing I did right was to foster a cockpit environment all week which allowed the other pilot to speak right up when he saw my error, and me to admit when I had screwed up. That's why you have two pilots up front ladies and gentlemen; for error capture. The hardest thing after making a mistake like that is to recover your mental attitude and get back in the game. How the other person reacts plays a big role in your recovery, but the bottom line is you can't beat yourself up about it, especially in an airplane b/c you simply don't have the luxury of time. So you learn to let it go and move on. We're all human and we will all make mistakes no matter how good we are at what we do.  OK, that's enough of a confession for one day.

Richmond

Walked around the capitol complex on my weekend layover. Lots of history here.