Page 18 - March 2015 Volume 19 Number 3

• • • •TWIN & TURBINE MARCH 2015
From The Flight Deck by Kevin R. Dingman
Head Bumping
Instead of waiting for the jump seat on a succession of full regional jets, I sometimes drive part way to O’Hare, then ride a charter-type bus to ORD. It makes the trip a lot longer, but knowing that I’ll get there for sure, instead of waiting for the next available seat – often as much as five hours – or even not getting a seat at all, is a nice respite from the agony of commuting. While on the bus I can nap, eat, read or work on stories. Occasionally, I watch folks bump heads.
Every now-and-then, the bus driver will apply the brakes a bit more than normal and passengers will lean into the aisle and bump heads with the person across the aisle who’s doing the same thing. They all look toward the front, rubbing their heads as they try to figure out what’s going on. It’s the reaction to a sudden deceleration, turning force or jolting, because, even as a passenger, if we don’t do something quickly, we will hit something...or so we think. Sometimes we look around for the culprit, reach for controls like the brakes or steering wheel, or we may just grab onto something and squeeze. For the cabin crew or passengers on our airplanes, the ability to see out the front, hit the brakes or grab something may not exist.
Chastised
“Spots” are literally big round painted circles on the ramp; with a number inside. We use them at the major airports to coordinate arriving and departing airliners. After engine start, ramp control had instructed us to use either of spots 6, 7 or 9...at my discretion. I taxied the polished MD-80 to spot 9, short of taxiway Kilo, came to a smooth stop, and set
the parking brake.
Normal procedure
is to switch to
ground control
when approaching
the assigned spot
and wait. You don’t
call them, they call
you – lest you be chastised and made to wait longer; radome and main landing gear dangling from the medieval stocks for all the village to see. Ground soon called with the query: “Spot 10?” There are 50-some spots on this side of the field alone, all of them spaced just 40 yards apart. We were at spot 9 and there was no one at spot 10 but it’s common for ground control to get the spot number wrong by one spot. My FO responded with “319 is spot 9 with India.” Ground responded: “Roger 319. Taxi to 17R via Kilo- Echo-Golf. India is current.” My FO read back “17R, Kilo-Echo-Golf, we have India. 319.”
About the time our fuselage was one-half airplane length over the ramp line out onto taxiway Kilo, ground came over the radio with the query: “Spot 9?” – which was me. I felt an unpleasant scenario unfolding, as the “incursion” word flashed through my mind, and it caught me by surprise. Even if ground had made the mistake, if we pull in front of another taxiing airplane, ground vehicle or other equipment, it’s ultimately the PIC’s responsibility – and that’s me again. I instinctively tapped the brakes; not enough to stop, but it was jarring.
I knew my flight attendants were up and about in the cabin and I pictured the passengers doing the head-bumping thing, like on the bus. I looked for traffic and vehicles; there was nothing from either direction and I wondered what I had missed.
No Soup For You!
My FO was verbally reviewing the takeoff data so I took the radio via boom mike and said “Spot 9was319–YougaveustheKeg route.“ Ground replied: “Ok, sorry. I confused you with another flight number – no problem.“ I responded with – “Ok, thanks, but I need to pick my Flight Attendants up off the floor.” Ground replied: “Sorry about that.” My thoughts went from concern of having made a mistake, to being relieved, but mad at myself for tapping the brakes. I expected a punitive call on the intercom from my jostled FA’s, perhaps revoking my crew meal for that leg, but it never came.
About 55 minutes into the flight, as an aside to another conversation I was having with my number one flight attendant, he mentioned “by the way, ‘that little brake thing’ back there on the ramp injured the wrist