X-Treme Training
(continued) Regardless, it is still necessary to harass the X-types simply ... well ... just because they know more than I do. In addition the X-types sometimes accuse us of passing along bad habits. When we return for recurrent training, our proficiency is not at their level because we're not flying the airplane nearly as much. Besides, the X-types already know all the right simulator buttons to push, notwithstanding the secret handshake.
In actuality, X's and L's play well together. It's important that we do. Our responsibility is to deliver a safe product to the flying public in the form of a well-trained pilot. When I receive a product from the flight academy that could use improvement, feedback is important. Rather than just find fault with an individual pilot, the flight training department's function is to consider flaws in the program.
Larry and I bantered a moment or two. I discovered that he had only been on the job a short while and that this was also his first recurrent session as a check airman. He wasn't sure what to expect either. I chided him that he should know all the secret codes and hand signals anyhow.
Greg, our X-treme check airman, walked into the briefing room. He introduced himself with a handshake and a smile, and then sat down on the customary seat in front of the table opposite Larry and me. As is also customary, we discussed our bases and backgrounds. Soon we moved on to current events at the airline and our personal plans. As is untypical but not unwelcome, the discussion consumed a fair portion of our briefing. Greg had a relaxed demeanor. I felt reasonably certain that I would not be hearing the sound of a whip being cracked.
The first session of our simulator training is scheduled for two hours and is conducted with each of us flying from the right seat. The objective is to perform standard and some nonstandard maneuvers that are part of a normal line pilot check ride. It can be a challenge and a great learning experience. Not only do I gain a greater appreciation for copilot duties, but I develop a greater comfort level with my own abilities.
Larry and I acquiesced to each other, which meant neither one of us would make a decision on who went first. I reached into my pants pocket and pulled out a quarter. I flipped the coin into the air with my thumb. Larry made the call. He won. Lucky him. Well ... maybe.
We had handicaps to overcome. First, the simulator was the oldest and creakiest 767 at the flight academy. Most of us groan if we are assigned to it. Personally, I have never been bothered by its idiosyncrasies. I consider it a challenge. And I can rationalize my mistakes (at least in my own mind).
Our second handicap was worse. Not only were Larry and I both captains, but we were both check airmen. We would either help each other too much or we would not help each other enough, or a little of both.
In addition, I was a visitor in Larry and Greg's regular work environment. They both knew the operation of the simulator. That particular fact had the potential to be another handicap. Larry might anticipate a scenario before it happened. Anticipating a scenario might be worse than just being surprised.
And in fact, the surprise came right away. But the surprise of the surprise was that it was actually for me.
Greg selected a visibility of 500 RVR for the takeoff runway. (No sense in making life easy.) As usual, one of the three transmissometers was considered inoperative. Larry and I thumbed through our manuals, including the appropriate Jepp page. As suspected, it was determined that our takeoff wasn't legal without the risk of an FAA hearing. Greg solved the problem and magically reinstated the errant transmissometer.
With Larry at the controls in the right seat, we began the takeoff. Relaxed but not comatose, I sat back, waiting for the fun to begin for my partner. At 120 knots, about 10 knots below V1, a nasty noise in the form of an electronic bell began to sound in my head. From the far corner of my eye, I could see that a very red light was illuminated. An engine had caught fire. And Larry was not moving. I grinned and shook my head. Larry had probably been told to sit on his hands. "Abort!" I announced.
My right hand slammed the power levers rearward. I moved my hand forward and rotated the reverse levers up with a snap of my wrist. I checked for the spoiler handle to automatically position itself aft. It did. I slid the balls of my feet up on the rudder pedals and onto the toe brakes. I heard the click of the automatic brakes' switch moving to the disarm position. The simulator rolled to a lurching stop.
"Engine Fire, Severe Damage checklist, please," I called to Larry.
As I reached for the interphone to make a simulated PA regarding our abrupt stop, Greg halted the action. He was satisfied with the performance. It was time to move on to the next emergency. The simulator was reset to the original takeoff position. Larry was at the controls again. I decided to remain at attention this time.
Discuss this article in our forums
| 
Copyright @ 2009 Bonnier Corp. All Rights Reserved. Reproduction in whole or in part without permission is prohibited.
