Ground school and medieval torture
After indoc finished we were given the second of our three days off in July. Then the firehouse opened in earnest and ground school began on a Sunday. Each day we learned a few more of the aircraft's systems - electrical, hydraulic, flight controls.
Friends and relatives often ask me why I need to go through all of this training if I already know how to fly. It's a valid question. Flying is flying no matter what the airplane. If you want to descend, you push forward on the yoke (or stick) if you want to climb, you pull back. If you want to lower the landing gear, you move the landing gear handle to the down position. ...but that's where the similarities end. When I move my new plane's gear handle to the down position, I am moving an electrical switch that starts a hydraulic process. Electrical inputs cause the hydraulic bypass valve to close. Now the hydraulic fluid is no longer constantly circulating at low pressure (about 60-90 psi) but at a high pressure 1500 psi. At the same time, electrical inputs cause the landing gear valves to shuffle to the down position. The mechanical gear up-locks which held the gear securely in the up position are hydraulically released and hydraulic pressure pushes the gear into the down position where mechanical locks hold them there. When the process is complete, micro switches tell the hydraulic system to stop. The valves shuffle back to the 'not doing anything right now' positions, hydraulic fluid begins to circulate freely and the system pressure drops back down.
'Wow' you say. 'That's exciting, but so what?'
Well, that's the way it happens on my new plane. On some types of plane, it's an entirely hydraulic process. On some planes it's an entirely electrical process. But there's more! That's just one part of one system. I learned stuff about every system. When I start the first engine (the plane has two), I press the start button, and the button lights up. That light tells me that the electrical starter relay for that engine has closed and that power is flowing from the battery through the hot battery bus to the starter/generator. When the start process is complete, the light goes out. When I start the second engine, both start lights illuminate indicating that both start relays have closed because while the battery is providing some power, the majority is coming from the now-running generator attached to the now-running engine. I learned piles of similar information about every system. Fuel, electrical, hydraulic, air conditioning and pressurization, pneumatics, flight controls, oxygen, avionics (electronics & flight computers), landing gear, ice and rain protection ... the list goes on and on. I learned how things should work, what could go wrong, what that would look like from my seat in the cockpit and what I would do about it. At the same time, I was studying and learning my aircraft limitations (e.g. - maximum takeoff weight, maximum demonstrated crosswind for takeoff or landing, maximum generator load on the ground in flight idle), memory items, flight profiles and call-outs that my new employer uses (while they're similar in some ways, they're very different in others -- it's difficult to describe without putting you to sleep).
It's a lot to learn in one week.
Ground school ended with a test and a class on how my new employer wants us to work performance problems (how do you figure out the second segment climb gradient given the current conditions and will it meet what is required for your airport and runway of departure ... etc) and then we started in the simulators.
I refer to flight simulators (the modern, snazzy ones) as updated medieval torture devices. They sit two or three stories high on hydraulic stilts and they can move in any direction you can imagine. When you walk inside, you walk past the instructor console in the back and into an exact replica of the airplane's cockpit. The switches and dials came off of the same assembly line that the ones in the real plane came from. When you look out the windows you see an amazingly realistic and accurate world out there. When the instructor turns on turbulence, the simulator shakes as though you're in real turbulence. When the instructor turns on rain, the windshield gets a bit fuzzy. When it snows and you're sitting on the ground, you can see the snowflakes falling. So why is this a torture device? Everything fails. Constantly. Don't get me wrong, it doesn't break - it fails. Better put, the instructor pushes a button and an engine catches on fire, or a generator fails ... or both do, or the gear doesn't come down - the list is huge. Simulator training consists largely of handling every type of inflight and ground emergency you could imagine in the safety of a simulator, over and over again. It's where I get to put all of the knowledge I crammed into my head during ground school to use.
At the end of my simulator training (one week), I took a checkride which consisted of three hours worth of oral examination and two hours worth of simulator exam. It doesn't sound like such a big deal since I'd just finished learning all of that stuff. The stress comes from the knowledge that if I make a mistake, I fail my exam and even if I retake the exam and pass, it goes into my permanent records. When I interview for a new job, those records follow me. They'll follow me to every job. Professional pilots get tested either every six months or every year (depending on whether you're a captain or a first officer) and every test carries the same weight - and stress - as the first. If I counted correctly, this was my 20th test so far. So far, I'm still at 100%.
Friends and relatives often ask me why I need to go through all of this training if I already know how to fly. It's a valid question. Flying is flying no matter what the airplane. If you want to descend, you push forward on the yoke (or stick) if you want to climb, you pull back. If you want to lower the landing gear, you move the landing gear handle to the down position. ...but that's where the similarities end. When I move my new plane's gear handle to the down position, I am moving an electrical switch that starts a hydraulic process. Electrical inputs cause the hydraulic bypass valve to close. Now the hydraulic fluid is no longer constantly circulating at low pressure (about 60-90 psi) but at a high pressure 1500 psi. At the same time, electrical inputs cause the landing gear valves to shuffle to the down position. The mechanical gear up-locks which held the gear securely in the up position are hydraulically released and hydraulic pressure pushes the gear into the down position where mechanical locks hold them there. When the process is complete, micro switches tell the hydraulic system to stop. The valves shuffle back to the 'not doing anything right now' positions, hydraulic fluid begins to circulate freely and the system pressure drops back down.
'Wow' you say. 'That's exciting, but so what?'
Well, that's the way it happens on my new plane. On some types of plane, it's an entirely hydraulic process. On some planes it's an entirely electrical process. But there's more! That's just one part of one system. I learned stuff about every system. When I start the first engine (the plane has two), I press the start button, and the button lights up. That light tells me that the electrical starter relay for that engine has closed and that power is flowing from the battery through the hot battery bus to the starter/generator. When the start process is complete, the light goes out. When I start the second engine, both start lights illuminate indicating that both start relays have closed because while the battery is providing some power, the majority is coming from the now-running generator attached to the now-running engine. I learned piles of similar information about every system. Fuel, electrical, hydraulic, air conditioning and pressurization, pneumatics, flight controls, oxygen, avionics (electronics & flight computers), landing gear, ice and rain protection ... the list goes on and on. I learned how things should work, what could go wrong, what that would look like from my seat in the cockpit and what I would do about it. At the same time, I was studying and learning my aircraft limitations (e.g. - maximum takeoff weight, maximum demonstrated crosswind for takeoff or landing, maximum generator load on the ground in flight idle), memory items, flight profiles and call-outs that my new employer uses (while they're similar in some ways, they're very different in others -- it's difficult to describe without putting you to sleep).
It's a lot to learn in one week.
Ground school ended with a test and a class on how my new employer wants us to work performance problems (how do you figure out the second segment climb gradient given the current conditions and will it meet what is required for your airport and runway of departure ... etc) and then we started in the simulators.
I refer to flight simulators (the modern, snazzy ones) as updated medieval torture devices. They sit two or three stories high on hydraulic stilts and they can move in any direction you can imagine. When you walk inside, you walk past the instructor console in the back and into an exact replica of the airplane's cockpit. The switches and dials came off of the same assembly line that the ones in the real plane came from. When you look out the windows you see an amazingly realistic and accurate world out there. When the instructor turns on turbulence, the simulator shakes as though you're in real turbulence. When the instructor turns on rain, the windshield gets a bit fuzzy. When it snows and you're sitting on the ground, you can see the snowflakes falling. So why is this a torture device? Everything fails. Constantly. Don't get me wrong, it doesn't break - it fails. Better put, the instructor pushes a button and an engine catches on fire, or a generator fails ... or both do, or the gear doesn't come down - the list is huge. Simulator training consists largely of handling every type of inflight and ground emergency you could imagine in the safety of a simulator, over and over again. It's where I get to put all of the knowledge I crammed into my head during ground school to use.
At the end of my simulator training (one week), I took a checkride which consisted of three hours worth of oral examination and two hours worth of simulator exam. It doesn't sound like such a big deal since I'd just finished learning all of that stuff. The stress comes from the knowledge that if I make a mistake, I fail my exam and even if I retake the exam and pass, it goes into my permanent records. When I interview for a new job, those records follow me. They'll follow me to every job. Professional pilots get tested either every six months or every year (depending on whether you're a captain or a first officer) and every test carries the same weight - and stress - as the first. If I counted correctly, this was my 20th test so far. So far, I'm still at 100%.
posted by Shahv at 1:07 AM
2 Comments:
You have to go through the medieval torture device only when you move to a different 'Aircraft type'. Unlike us poor slobs who have to "live" in one perpetually performing the same ol' mundane job, with the same ol' #%@ boss, at the same ol' dreary office or cube - you get to fly around and see new and exciting places each day.
I'm glad you have a job you love. You deserve what you worked so hard to achieve. Going through a torture chamber once a year makes you really appreciate what you have. :-)
Yah, there is that.
I get put in 'the box' when I transition to a new type, a new seat and every six or twelve months depending on my seat position. But you're right: the rest of the time, the view from my office window is quite nice.
Going through the torture chamber once or twice a year occasionally makes me wonder why I'm doing this. Remembering AT&T's call center makes me appreciate what I have.
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