I scratched my chin as I tried to discern the unfamiliar code that our airline computer system had attached to three days of my reserve schedule. A call to crew schedule offered only a verbal shoulder shrug. It was suggested that I call our flight standards department. Hmm …
Flight standards is responsible for maintaining and tracking each pilot’s qualifications. When I was a check airman, I worked closely with this department. Flight standards assigned us the pilots who required IOEs (initial operating experiences) or regular line checks. I treated them like gold; my monthly schedule was under their control. Regardless, it was a great give-and-take relationship, an aspect of the check airman job that I miss.
“Why would flight standards be calling me now?” I thought to myself. Did I forget to enter my recent first-class medical exam into the computer system? No, I was certain that task had been completed. Was my 90-day currency of three landings coming due sooner than calculated? Possibly.
After exchanging some friendly barbs over the phone with a former flight standards colleague, I got the explanation. It had been almost 24 months since my last line check. In addition, my landing currency was expiring. Two birds with one stone.
Normally flight standards would assign a check airman to my regular trip, but a reserve schedule is problematic. It becomes the luck of the draw attempting to coordinate check airman availability when a trip pops up for a reserve pilot. So, in this circumstance I would be assigned to tag along on another captain’s trip to London. He would fly the leg from JFK to Heathrow and I would fly the return. The other captain would also receive a line check.
What is a line check anyhow? As a Part 121 FAR requirement, a pilot’s proficiency must be observed in the appropriate duty position on the airplane for which he is currently qualified. The check is technically defined as a “continuing qualification” line check. It is conducted on at least one typical route segment flown by the airline, domestic or international. The check airman, of course, must be qualified on both the airplane and the route.
Although all pilots on the crew are evaluated, the captain is required to receive this line check at least once every 24 months; a one-month grace period is allowed. It can be a scheduled or unscheduled event — a surprise or not a surprise. The FAA requires a line check for 50 percent of its captains over one year, from January through December.
Considering that the hours I have flown over the last year have decreased substantially with my reserve schedule, was I stressed about a check ride? No, not really. I have reached a comfort level with the 777 so that, even with a diminished flying frequency, I am able to pick up the tempo as though I had never left the orchestra. Perhaps after 30 years of playing for the same orchestra, the routine has become second nature. That doesn’t preclude the fact that my proficiency might get a bit rusty from time to time.
Regardless, a little preparation never hurts. My brain cells don’t retain details as well as they have in the past. A review of procedures and limitations is the best method I’ve found to be armed for a line check. I think most of my colleagues would agree they would rather be overprepared than underprepared. A line check is not normally an event for reciting rote knowledge. Its purpose is more to demonstrate competency in crew resource management and operational skills. That’s why either the captain or the copilot can fly the leg.
As a former check airman, I was fortunate to have experienced both the receiving end of a line check and the giving end. It wasn’t that I knew the answers to the final exam, but at least I understood the expectations of the check airman. And the expectations were simple. Conduct a safe and efficient flight utilizing the policy and procedures trained by the airline, a strategy I attempt on every trip.
The philosophy of our flight training management is that the quality of the pilot product is a direct reflection of the program. Airline pilots take pride in their profession, and so do the instructors. With very few exceptions, no one has an ax to grind. The desire of all check airmen, whether it’s in a simulator or in the airplane, is to have their students pass. The litmus test that I utilized as a check airman was to ask the question, “Would I put my family on board an airplane that this pilot was flying?”
Judging by the quality and demeanor of our current cadre, the hiring criteria for check airmen hasn’t changed much since I interviewed almost 25 years ago as a captain on the 727. Not quite realizing that it was an honor to be asked, and thinking that I was crossing over into the ranks of evil airline management, I begrudgingly complied with my chief pilot’s request to interview for the position.
At the interview, the 727 fleet captain asked the simple question, “Why do you want to be a check airman?” Prepared for this query, I responded, “I would enjoy the opportunity to conduct flight kit bag inspections.” For the unaware, this indicated a sadistic desire to have a line pilot display the interior of his most intimate personalized toolbox for the primary purpose of proving his Jepp charts were current with the latest revisions, a chore that most of us self-police. The fleet captain saw through my feeble deception (the grin on my face notwithstanding) and simply exclaimed, “You’re hired!”
I would never claim to have been the standard for check airmen, but certainly a sense of humor was, and still is, an asset. Unfortunately, I never began training for the position because of reductions in force. But the job was presented to me 16 years later, the next time as a 767 check airman. I am grateful for the experience, something I would have regretted not having done in my career.
A pleasant aspect of my recent line check was that it would be conducted by a check airman with whom I have a friendly relationship. Rick Solan is an owner of the Great Barrington Airport (GBR) in Massachusetts within easy flying distance from my home in Connecticut. Among the standard FBO services, his operation is well known for instruction and rentals in J-3 Cubs year-round. Rick and three others inherited the airport from the original owner, both a blessing and a curse. In addition to our airline employment, Rick and I have a lot of other aviation experience in common.
Due to a commitment I had tentatively made on the last day of the three-day trip, I called the regularly scheduled captain, asking that he consider allowing me to fly the first leg. My hope was to deadhead back on the first morning flight to JFK four hours after our arrival into Heathrow. I did my best to emulate Viktor Navorski, the character Tom Hanks portrayed in the movie The Terminal. Navorski, of course, never really left the airport.
The captain agreed, albeit reluctantly; apparently he had dreams of a similar plan. His deadhead over to London in an open first-class seat while I received my line check helped ease the pain.
Unfortunately, the copilot assigned to the trip had to suffer the brunt of a check ride both coming and going. He had a relaxed attitude and took it all in stride. Once en route, Rick took pity on the copilot and afforded him the opportunity to enjoy a rest break in the upper bunk. The trip was originally scheduled as a two-man crew, so the rest break was a bonus that wouldn’t have existed under normal circumstances.
In addition to conveying my knowledge of procedural contingencies in the event an emergency situation required us to depart the North Atlantic track system, we discussed the most current 777 operational issues. And, of course, we caught up on the latest airline state of affairs. More importantly, we caught up on each other’s personal lives.
Although some might consider it a risky move during a line check, I disconnected the autopilot as we began the arrival into Heathrow. My coÂpilot uttered a tongue-in-cheek gasp. I chuckled, thinking that I can make mistakes with or without somebody looking over my shoulder. Besides, I was originally hired for my ability to fly airplanes rather than just manage how they fly.
We arrived at the gate unscathed. I shook Rick’s hand and considered it an indication that a “satisfactory” would be entered into the computer. As it should always be, the trip was routine, line check or not.
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