Service service serviceplease

 

 

Arriving back in Miami at 8:30, I completed the General Declaration document for US Customs, pausing to ask a co-worker what was the day?   It's Wednesday.  It started out as Wednesday when I work up but somehow when the sun arose and I was out of the airplane I had a question.  Could it be a day later, making it Thursday?   A moment of reflection confirmed the day.  

My how time flies!  Or so goes the expression. And so too do flight crews.   Getting a wake-up call from dispatch at midnight plus thirty after just two hours of attempted rest, the trip begins.  You get out of bed, amble to the shower, get dressed, pack up the flight case, gather some food snacks, head out the door and drive to the airport. 

Getting through the front door, the woman guard is standing there an notices my arrival.  I am wearing a pilot uniform: shirt with epaulettes,  black tie, black pants, black shoes, flight kit.  Offering a quiet early morning hello brings a response.  "May I see your ID?".   "This woman must be new!", I muse and had bring the ID from around my neck into my hand and close to the guard.  She stares at is for several moments.   My words come out, "You must be new.".   No reply is received.  After several moments I decide that this is enough, retreat the ID card back and head for the lounge.  "Who does she think is there at this hour anyway?", I ponder in amazement.   She must be new! 

I've not had this kind of early morning scrutiny before.   The guard does not follow from my retreat, but I'm not sure she was satisfied with the inspection.   It will have to do.  Enough is enough.  I have a preflight to conduct and dislike the challenge to my arrival.   


The hardest part is now complete - showing up for work.    Who is there to join me? Arriving ten minutes before the required one hour preflight,  the answer quickly comes.  Nobody!   The pilot briefing lounge is empty.   "Very well", I muse, gather the trip flight release, weather reports, and settle into a comfortable reclining chair.   But someone has gotten here first, as noted by the highlight pen markings on the flight release.  Key data is marked with a fluorescent yellow-green color, calling to attention someone's idea of vital data.  And it is vital.  Trip date, flight number, takeoff weight, cruise air temperature, time enroute, fuel requirements.  The list goes on.   I scan over the pages and am pleased and intrigued with   someone else's analysis.   Could this be the captain?   

That is my first thought, because it would have to be someone who has knowledge of the details of a flight trip.  That responsibility goes to the dispatcher and the captain, working together to make a successful trip.  The challenging details presented on paper, the team

works through them, and a flight is accomplished.   It sounds so wonderfully poetic, or at least it seem so at this early hour of 2:00AM.   

Just then the captain enters the doorway.   We flew together for initial training four months ago and have not flown together since then.  He is a skilled pilot, check airman, kind personality, and a pleasure to fly with.  We greet each other with a warm handshake.  The captain picks up the paperwork and I ask, "did you make the highlight markings?".    The answer comes, 'No.".     Who else could it be?  The Engineer is the only remaining person.  He is not here.  That may be easily explained in that the engineer performs a pre-flight inspection.

I flew with the engineer a month before on a very exciting flight, marked by an engine failure at 100 feet above ground just after I made a takeoff.   That was followed by an engine shutdown and immediate return to land.  The day dragged on and become quite routine after that.  Eventually we rode a commercial airline flight back to Miami and concluded the day.   Now we again gather together.  

It appears that the engineer has come and gone and likely has the preflight duties well in hand.   The Captain and I visit for a few minutes, review the flight and trip paperwork, and then head for the airplane.   A quick restroom stop is made and then a walk through the hanger and finding the airplane.  Another guard is present just before the ramp.   This person is called a Ground Security Coordinator.  I've read the procedure for how to display an ID to the GSC and they check with the flight manifest to make sure that you are supposed to be there, and on and on.  All in reaction to Homeland Security procedures imposed on airlines.   In reality a wave to the GSC suffices, if even that.  We understand each other.  Often that person is away from the desk anyway.   We pilot have enough to deal with without the added scrutiny imposed under the guise of heightened  security procedures created by some distant bureaucrat.  I would tell such a person to  get out to the flight line at 2AM and live the job.  

Arriving at the airplane I make a walk-around inspection paying particular attention to the lower forward and aft cargo areas.   Opening the cargo doors I see full loads in both forward and aft locations.  Checking the trip sheet confirms that this will be a full flight.

We take off, land, unload, load, and return to Miami.  The sun rises during the return and we are thankfully headed away from it.    I didn't like waking up to window shades being opened in the morning as a school child.  Decades later and I still don't like it.  "Send in a golden retriever to do the job and we will both happier. ", I muse quietly.   It's a full early morning and we arrive at 8:20 and glad to be home.  

The ride to Customs is done with a driver and a loud radio.  I have to ask twice to turn it down. I'd prefer it turned off and wonder if the drivers have any sense of who is in the van besides themselves.  Their behavior suggests otherwise.  The van is operated like it is theirs.  This is often also true with hotel shuttle drivers.   Radio volume, air temperature, all little things but they become quite noticeable to the passengers.  I'd vote for no radio and let welcome the quietness.   I'm sure other passengers also would .

Passing through Customs is brief.  Two quick checkpoints, an exchange of General Declarations and a passport swipe through a computer reader, a stop a Immigration to check on declared items, and we are done.  This Customs office handles flight crews well.

Arriving home I sit at the computer terminal for a half hour until my eyes close.  I realize how tired I am and quickly close down the laptop and had for sleep.   It's been a good trip and an enjoyable flight with good people.  The work is good.  Cargo is vital to economies and the silent reward comes in a smoothly run operation, thanks to the crew, ground support, and even the new guard.  

We live in service to a cargo industry.  I serve to live for others, as remembered during this period of Easter week.