December 29th, 2010
It’s a quiet night for the Winter of 2010, which means, it's not snowing. The terminal ramp is jam packed with planes tonight--more aftermath from the Nor'easter/Blizzard from three days ago--but at BTV, the weather is refreshingly mellow, with a gentle layer of clouds covering the skies about six miles up. The temperature is a balmy 22 degrees Fahrenheit, a direct result of the cloud cover. I think I'd rather have a bone-chilling night with an opportunity to see the stars, but there's no controlling Mother Nature, despite our feeble human wishes to do so. Just ask anyone in New Jersey, New York or Boston. They'll tell ya.
There were a few blips of action tonight; two people needed help finding their cars in the parking garage (it happens all the time), one late flight (landing at 0109), a JetBlue A320 canceled out of JFK (resulting in a loss of 150 passengers arriving at BTV and displacing 150 departing folks tomorrow) and a small domestic disturbance in the south concourse resulted in a police response. The travelers, a woman and man in their early 30s and their son who appeared to be about four, were clearly exhausted from a long day of delayed flights, overpriced airport food, snaking lines ending at overworked customer service agents.
Upon their midnight arrival at BTV's south concourse gate 14, the aforementioned couple became confused about where their car seat (which had been gate checked in Detroit) was located. Before they knew it, their behavior drew the attention of both myself and the Burlington Airport Police. As they explained their situation to a serious looking member of law enforcement, they continued their verbal abuse of each other, raising their voices, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they were home, they had made it. Their four year old son was standing, miraculously, under his own power, on his own two feet. I looked at my watch, noting the time. Midnight. The officer, growing impatient with the parents antics, gave them a quick motivational speech, "I'm going to need some identification and find out why you're doing things you shouldn't be doing at the airport." The couple began digging out their IDs.
The wife, who had just been screaming at her husband and the gate agent about the location of the car seat, explained the situation. "Officer, we've had a very long day and my son and I just want to go home." Nodding towards her husband, she added, "This is the father of my son. He's was just trying to get the car seat for us and then we're heading our separate ways." The husband, who had earlier seemed calm and collected, appeared annoyed by this public assertion of their impending separation, forcefully telling his future ex, "Look, you don't need to be showing your ID. You two just go to baggage claim and I'll handle this." The officer stiffened a bit, stating, "Nobody is going anywhere for the time being." As the officer waited for the dispatcher to verify the couple's identity, he asked, "You're not wanted for anything are you?"
The situation concluded after their clean records were verified a minute or so later. No warrants for their arrest, no fugitives from justice, just three people caught up in a moment over a missing car seat, unaware how insignificant the moment really was. The mother and the child parted ways from the father, causing the child to cry in the heart-wrenching way a four-year-old cries upon separating from a parent they no longer live with. Witnessing this sad moment unfold reminded me of the varied complexity and uncontrolled elements in life. To a child, life is simple; your parents are simultaneously your identity and your universe. To an adult, the universe is vastly more complex, your identity forged by elements of your past and the hope for your future. In the end, the universe cares little what cards you are dealt. I’m not sure what to make of all this. But for now, I've been reminded to deal my three year old daughter and four year old son the best hands I possibly can. I’ll stack the deck if I have to.
Love and joy come to you,
And to you your wassail too;
And God bless you and send you a Happy New Year
And God send you a Happy New Year.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Sunday, September 5, 2010
It's not every night.
It's not every night that you have a sandstorm at the airport. It's not every night that a temporary (jumper) electrical cable catches fire, blacking out your runway lights with aircraft in range. It's not every night that a fully loaded Airbus A320 lands in Burlington after the published hard closure of 2330. But tonight was no ordinary night.
Welcome to construction season at BTV. With Runway 15/33 being resurfaced this summer, BTV Night Operations has been a bit more interesting. Instead of delayed flights, the standard norm this time of the year, flights land promptly by 2330 due to the hard closure from 2330 to 0530 (or they don't land at all). No more listening to Boston Center until 0330, waiting for that straggling aircraft to enter our airspace, full of dreary, travel-beaten passengers, looking for an end to their long day. No more looking at the stars or noticing a wandering satellite floating across the horizon. Nope. None of that. Replace all that with dump trucks, light towers, paving and milling machines, excavators, rollers, escort vehicles and more dump trucks. The dump trucks never stop. Never.
And here we are, September 4th, 60 days into the asphalt portion of the resurfacing project, at Labor Day Weekend. Hurricane Earl has just passed to our north and east, a cold front has just moved through and the winds are out of the west, shifting to the south at 12-24 knots. Unfortunately, the winds, combined with our dry summer and sandy airport soil have created a sandstorm. Upon my arrival at 1700, I immediately noticed sand blowing across the runway toward the VTANG hangers. This warranted an airfield and runway inspection, just to verify that the sand wasn't drifting or pocketing, similar to the way snow tends to drift and pocket all winter long. The inspection revealed that sand was beginning to form on the runway surface and I subsequently called the project engineer to have him contact the appropriate contractors to clean up the mess and apply water on any open soil.
A few hours later, the contractor, George, arrived, eager to be earning his time and a half. John, a project engineer arrived too, looking rather solemn, ready to escort the contractor onto the airfield. At this point, the most reasonable way to proceed was to give John and George a quick tour of the runway, to let them assess the situation. After waiting for JetBlue 1148 to land, we proceeded from the north perimeter road onto Taxiway Golf, northbound. Exiting Taxiway Golf onto Taxiway Mike, we held short, switching to Tower frequency (118.3) requesting our clearance to proceed south on the runway. The worst part of the blowing and drifting sand was on the southern most part of the runway, from Taxiway Bravo south. Here, the sand was blowing and swirling across the runway, west to east. George, sitting in the back of Tango 21, chattered away, asking questions, giving his insight. Suddenly, George asked quizzically, "What's that on fire over there?" My head shot over to the east side of the runway where he was pointing, noticing something glowing in the darkness. Upon closer inspection, we identified a jumper cable that was being used to feed the temporary threshold lights for our shortened runway (due to construction) on fire. The fire was bright and intense, like a welding torch. I could hear the crackle of electricity popping and snapping through the cable.
Understanding that we would likely lose the runway lights due to this malfunctioning electrical cable, I quickly exited the runway and requested clearance back to the terminal to locate the runway project electrical contractor's phone number. Given the delicacy of the situation, I decided to call the tower on the Ops cell phone, rather than notify them of the situation over frequency. With the tower notified and watching the runway lights with elevated scrutiny, I called Mark, the electrical contractor, and Corey, the on-call airport electrician. Next, I quickly briefed the Director of Airport Operations of the situation over the phone.
At this point, there was little more to do than monitor the situation and wait for the electricians to arrive. I requested clearance from the terminal, crossed Taxiway Alpha, Runway 1/19 onto Taxiway Bravo. Tower cleared me back onto Runway 15 and we discovered not much had changed in the few minutes we were gone. We cleared onto Taxiway Bravo to wait for the electrician.
And then the runway lights went out, just like that.
Remarkably, Corey, who thankfully lives very locally, arrived less than a minute after the outage. I immediately called flight service and issued a NOTAM that read, "Runway 15/33 CLSD UFN." Within about a minute, the Ops phone began to ring. "Uh, this is Mesa dispatch, we just received word that the runway is closed. Is that true?" The calls were all about the same and my replies were truthful, yet evasive. I assured each caller that we were working on the problem and that it should be resolved within a reasonable amount of time, hopefully less than 30 minutes. No promises.
Corey's assessment was that the cable had been damaged by a construction vehicle. The power to that cable needed to be shut off and a splice needed to be made. Corey went to the vault, shut off the power to the runway and proceeded to retrieve the splice kit back at the shop. Like clockwork, the electrical contractor, Mark, arrived on the runway just as Corey arrived with the splice kit. Meanwhile, the Ops phone kept ringing...My patience was being tested a bit as everyone from Albany Airport Operations (who had received a diversion because of the situation) to local airline employees were calling to find out information. The splice work took about 10 minutes and when Corey, who had repositioned himself at the vault, turned on the power, the runway lights came back on immediately. George, still in the back seat of Tango 21, exclaimed his approval, “Alright!” Clearing the runway, I canceled the NOTAM and traffic began to land. I dropped John and George off by the water truck, where they would meet up with another contractor, Jack, to sweep the runway and apply water to the open parts of the infield and safety area.
Meanwhile, Jetblue 148, who had diverted to Albany (ALB) was getting fuel. It was only 2205 and the hard closure wouldn’t begin until 2330, so the 26 minute flight from Albany seemed like a piece of cake, as long as there weren't excessive taxi times at ALB. At 2250, Jetblue 148 still wasn't out of gate and I began to wonder what the delay was. And then the Ops phone rang. It was Rolando, a JetBlue dispatcher, calling.
"Ah, yeah, Rob. This is Rolando calling from JetBlue dispatch. We were wondering, ah, our aircraft is in Albany right now getting fuel and the fuel truck just broke down. Is there any possibility we can land after curfew? We're estimating an arrival of 2340." A dispatcher's goal is to get the plane to the final destination, no matter what. With that end, the passengers, crew, and airline checkbook are all happy. For the aforementioned folks, the alternative is not so pretty. However, during runway construction, every minute counts. The project has an end date marked on the calendar, enforced by snow season. That reality can lead to harsh, but necessary decisions.
But tonight, knowing only two folks were working in a containment and cleanup operation (opposed to 45 workers and 30 pieces of equipment with the goal of putting down 1200 tons of hot asphalt in five hours), I gave Rolondo a reluctant, "Yes." My reluctance, mostly an act, was to apply extra pressure on Rolondo to get that aircraft here, not any later than he was estimating. Of course, his estimation of a 2340 arrival was also in part, an act, as 2340 was more than likely a best, best, best case scenario. It’s a little game we play. Ultimately, the stakes tonight were relatively small, but we played our hands carefully, like the stakes were big. If it were a normal construction night, I'm pretty sure that plane would have been going back to Kennedy. We have to get this runway project done. This year.
In the end, JetBlue 148 landed at 2443, pretty close to Rolondo’s estimate. When the plane emptied out of Gate 15 and into the terminal, the relief and smiles from the passengers confirmed my belief that letting them land was the right decision to make. A passenger walked up to me in the main terminal, saying, “Tell whoever let us land, thanks! I said, "No problem. We were happy to see you get here." She replied, "Oh, was that you?" Not able to control the smile unfolding, I looked down, replying, "Yes." It's not every night that working the graveyard shift at the airport makes me smile. But on this night, it did.
Welcome to construction season at BTV. With Runway 15/33 being resurfaced this summer, BTV Night Operations has been a bit more interesting. Instead of delayed flights, the standard norm this time of the year, flights land promptly by 2330 due to the hard closure from 2330 to 0530 (or they don't land at all). No more listening to Boston Center until 0330, waiting for that straggling aircraft to enter our airspace, full of dreary, travel-beaten passengers, looking for an end to their long day. No more looking at the stars or noticing a wandering satellite floating across the horizon. Nope. None of that. Replace all that with dump trucks, light towers, paving and milling machines, excavators, rollers, escort vehicles and more dump trucks. The dump trucks never stop. Never.
And here we are, September 4th, 60 days into the asphalt portion of the resurfacing project, at Labor Day Weekend. Hurricane Earl has just passed to our north and east, a cold front has just moved through and the winds are out of the west, shifting to the south at 12-24 knots. Unfortunately, the winds, combined with our dry summer and sandy airport soil have created a sandstorm. Upon my arrival at 1700, I immediately noticed sand blowing across the runway toward the VTANG hangers. This warranted an airfield and runway inspection, just to verify that the sand wasn't drifting or pocketing, similar to the way snow tends to drift and pocket all winter long. The inspection revealed that sand was beginning to form on the runway surface and I subsequently called the project engineer to have him contact the appropriate contractors to clean up the mess and apply water on any open soil.
A few hours later, the contractor, George, arrived, eager to be earning his time and a half. John, a project engineer arrived too, looking rather solemn, ready to escort the contractor onto the airfield. At this point, the most reasonable way to proceed was to give John and George a quick tour of the runway, to let them assess the situation. After waiting for JetBlue 1148 to land, we proceeded from the north perimeter road onto Taxiway Golf, northbound. Exiting Taxiway Golf onto Taxiway Mike, we held short, switching to Tower frequency (118.3) requesting our clearance to proceed south on the runway. The worst part of the blowing and drifting sand was on the southern most part of the runway, from Taxiway Bravo south. Here, the sand was blowing and swirling across the runway, west to east. George, sitting in the back of Tango 21, chattered away, asking questions, giving his insight. Suddenly, George asked quizzically, "What's that on fire over there?" My head shot over to the east side of the runway where he was pointing, noticing something glowing in the darkness. Upon closer inspection, we identified a jumper cable that was being used to feed the temporary threshold lights for our shortened runway (due to construction) on fire. The fire was bright and intense, like a welding torch. I could hear the crackle of electricity popping and snapping through the cable.
Understanding that we would likely lose the runway lights due to this malfunctioning electrical cable, I quickly exited the runway and requested clearance back to the terminal to locate the runway project electrical contractor's phone number. Given the delicacy of the situation, I decided to call the tower on the Ops cell phone, rather than notify them of the situation over frequency. With the tower notified and watching the runway lights with elevated scrutiny, I called Mark, the electrical contractor, and Corey, the on-call airport electrician. Next, I quickly briefed the Director of Airport Operations of the situation over the phone.
At this point, there was little more to do than monitor the situation and wait for the electricians to arrive. I requested clearance from the terminal, crossed Taxiway Alpha, Runway 1/19 onto Taxiway Bravo. Tower cleared me back onto Runway 15 and we discovered not much had changed in the few minutes we were gone. We cleared onto Taxiway Bravo to wait for the electrician.
And then the runway lights went out, just like that.
Remarkably, Corey, who thankfully lives very locally, arrived less than a minute after the outage. I immediately called flight service and issued a NOTAM that read, "Runway 15/33 CLSD UFN." Within about a minute, the Ops phone began to ring. "Uh, this is Mesa dispatch, we just received word that the runway is closed. Is that true?" The calls were all about the same and my replies were truthful, yet evasive. I assured each caller that we were working on the problem and that it should be resolved within a reasonable amount of time, hopefully less than 30 minutes. No promises.
Corey's assessment was that the cable had been damaged by a construction vehicle. The power to that cable needed to be shut off and a splice needed to be made. Corey went to the vault, shut off the power to the runway and proceeded to retrieve the splice kit back at the shop. Like clockwork, the electrical contractor, Mark, arrived on the runway just as Corey arrived with the splice kit. Meanwhile, the Ops phone kept ringing...My patience was being tested a bit as everyone from Albany Airport Operations (who had received a diversion because of the situation) to local airline employees were calling to find out information. The splice work took about 10 minutes and when Corey, who had repositioned himself at the vault, turned on the power, the runway lights came back on immediately. George, still in the back seat of Tango 21, exclaimed his approval, “Alright!” Clearing the runway, I canceled the NOTAM and traffic began to land. I dropped John and George off by the water truck, where they would meet up with another contractor, Jack, to sweep the runway and apply water to the open parts of the infield and safety area.
Meanwhile, Jetblue 148, who had diverted to Albany (ALB) was getting fuel. It was only 2205 and the hard closure wouldn’t begin until 2330, so the 26 minute flight from Albany seemed like a piece of cake, as long as there weren't excessive taxi times at ALB. At 2250, Jetblue 148 still wasn't out of gate and I began to wonder what the delay was. And then the Ops phone rang. It was Rolando, a JetBlue dispatcher, calling.
"Ah, yeah, Rob. This is Rolando calling from JetBlue dispatch. We were wondering, ah, our aircraft is in Albany right now getting fuel and the fuel truck just broke down. Is there any possibility we can land after curfew? We're estimating an arrival of 2340." A dispatcher's goal is to get the plane to the final destination, no matter what. With that end, the passengers, crew, and airline checkbook are all happy. For the aforementioned folks, the alternative is not so pretty. However, during runway construction, every minute counts. The project has an end date marked on the calendar, enforced by snow season. That reality can lead to harsh, but necessary decisions.
But tonight, knowing only two folks were working in a containment and cleanup operation (opposed to 45 workers and 30 pieces of equipment with the goal of putting down 1200 tons of hot asphalt in five hours), I gave Rolondo a reluctant, "Yes." My reluctance, mostly an act, was to apply extra pressure on Rolondo to get that aircraft here, not any later than he was estimating. Of course, his estimation of a 2340 arrival was also in part, an act, as 2340 was more than likely a best, best, best case scenario. It’s a little game we play. Ultimately, the stakes tonight were relatively small, but we played our hands carefully, like the stakes were big. If it were a normal construction night, I'm pretty sure that plane would have been going back to Kennedy. We have to get this runway project done. This year.
In the end, JetBlue 148 landed at 2443, pretty close to Rolondo’s estimate. When the plane emptied out of Gate 15 and into the terminal, the relief and smiles from the passengers confirmed my belief that letting them land was the right decision to make. A passenger walked up to me in the main terminal, saying, “Tell whoever let us land, thanks! I said, "No problem. We were happy to see you get here." She replied, "Oh, was that you?" Not able to control the smile unfolding, I looked down, replying, "Yes." It's not every night that working the graveyard shift at the airport makes me smile. But on this night, it did.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
The Stuff That Falls From The Sky...
METAR for KBTV
Time: Sat 09:54 PM EDT
Freshness:
26 minutes old
Sky: MVFR
Wind: 320° at 6 kts
Layers: 1800 Few, 2300 Scattered, 2900 Overcast
Vis: 9 sm
Temp: 41° F
Dp: 39° F
Alt: 29.81
Wx: light rain
One by one, the birds are coming in to roost. There's a steady rain falling this evening at the airport and there's no sugar coating this one; it's pretty darn miserable out there. Making the evening a little worse, the Red Sox lost earlier in the evening and have quickly gone down 4-0 in the second game to the Tampa Bay Rays. The dreary weather, caused by a low pressure system south of Long Island, hangs over KBTV, KBOS, Fenway Park and the rest of New England. However, the operations office is a climate controlled 72 degrees, dry, with a touch of jazz (Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong), mixed with intermittent sips of dark roast coffee. The flights are on time so far, no problems have been reported and there's no volcanic ash contaminating the sky. Overall, I'd call that a decent night, despite the drubbing at Fenway and the cold rain falling. What the heck? It's April in New England. You have to take what you can get.
The volcanic ash floating over most of Europe is a real curious situation. So far, millions of people have been displaced, air traffic at a near stand still. The ash, lethal to both aircraft and human beings, hangs over Europe with little regard for the disrupted commerce, delayed cargo and ruined vacations down below. Volcanoes have no sympathy, emotion, nor empathy for the human inhabitants of earth. They have a job to do. Erupt, smoke, cool down, blow ash everywhere. Vacationing, shipping goods, business trips with expense accounts? Mere child's play...
The tower closed at the usual time tonight, 0000, with JetBlue 128 out of Kennedy still to land. Taxi times are long in JFK this spring and summer with runway construction underway. BTV will be engaging in several airfield construction projects later this summer, and I hope to provide many exciting updates and photos as the projects begin to take shape. The most significant project, RWY 15/33 overlay, will take place exclusively at night. This will bring more life to the night shift as concrete is poured, asphalt is removed and replaced and drainage in the runway safety area is improved. There will be lots to inspect, making sure the airfield meets Federal Aviation Regulations (FAR) Part 139 specifications (The governing standards/Certification of Airports). In addition to airfield construction, the terminal second floor bathrooms (adjacent to the restaurant), are being remodeled. Finally, land-side, the north end of the parking garage will have two floors and a roof added on. It's unclear whether a volcanic ash collection system will be added to the final plans...
JetBlue 128, was a sight to see landing tonight. On approach, the Airbus A320 looked like an enormous orb, an illuminated ball of light reflecting off the rain clouds. Given the never ending blackness of the sky, it was an impressive sight to see. She touched down on RWY 15 at 0018, after making up 20 minutes of lost time in the air. The runway was wet with good braking, but the captain opted not to bother with a rapid slowdown upon landing, instead slowing incrementally over the full length of the runway. The final scheduled flight of the night, JB 128 exited the runway west on TXY Charlie for gate 15. Just prior to the arrival of JB 128, the Red Sox, who fought back after being down 6-1, lost 6-5. It must have been a tough game to watch at Fenway; cold and wet, with only $7.00 beers to keep you warm. It's been a tough start to the season, but there are 151 games to go. Rest assured, the Sox are going to win their share of games, maybe even make the playoffs. I suppose it's what we don't know that will make it interesting, worth paying attention. What story lines will evolve? What unexpected things will happen? Are there erupting volcanoes in the Red Sox near future? The magic 8 ball says...
Time: Sat 09:54 PM EDT
Freshness:
26 minutes old
Sky: MVFR
Wind: 320° at 6 kts
Layers: 1800 Few, 2300 Scattered, 2900 Overcast
Vis: 9 sm
Temp: 41° F
Dp: 39° F
Alt: 29.81
Wx: light rain
One by one, the birds are coming in to roost. There's a steady rain falling this evening at the airport and there's no sugar coating this one; it's pretty darn miserable out there. Making the evening a little worse, the Red Sox lost earlier in the evening and have quickly gone down 4-0 in the second game to the Tampa Bay Rays. The dreary weather, caused by a low pressure system south of Long Island, hangs over KBTV, KBOS, Fenway Park and the rest of New England. However, the operations office is a climate controlled 72 degrees, dry, with a touch of jazz (Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong), mixed with intermittent sips of dark roast coffee. The flights are on time so far, no problems have been reported and there's no volcanic ash contaminating the sky. Overall, I'd call that a decent night, despite the drubbing at Fenway and the cold rain falling. What the heck? It's April in New England. You have to take what you can get.
The volcanic ash floating over most of Europe is a real curious situation. So far, millions of people have been displaced, air traffic at a near stand still. The ash, lethal to both aircraft and human beings, hangs over Europe with little regard for the disrupted commerce, delayed cargo and ruined vacations down below. Volcanoes have no sympathy, emotion, nor empathy for the human inhabitants of earth. They have a job to do. Erupt, smoke, cool down, blow ash everywhere. Vacationing, shipping goods, business trips with expense accounts? Mere child's play...
The tower closed at the usual time tonight, 0000, with JetBlue 128 out of Kennedy still to land. Taxi times are long in JFK this spring and summer with runway construction underway. BTV will be engaging in several airfield construction projects later this summer, and I hope to provide many exciting updates and photos as the projects begin to take shape. The most significant project, RWY 15/33 overlay, will take place exclusively at night. This will bring more life to the night shift as concrete is poured, asphalt is removed and replaced and drainage in the runway safety area is improved. There will be lots to inspect, making sure the airfield meets Federal Aviation Regulations (FAR) Part 139 specifications (The governing standards/Certification of Airports). In addition to airfield construction, the terminal second floor bathrooms (adjacent to the restaurant), are being remodeled. Finally, land-side, the north end of the parking garage will have two floors and a roof added on. It's unclear whether a volcanic ash collection system will be added to the final plans...
JetBlue 128, was a sight to see landing tonight. On approach, the Airbus A320 looked like an enormous orb, an illuminated ball of light reflecting off the rain clouds. Given the never ending blackness of the sky, it was an impressive sight to see. She touched down on RWY 15 at 0018, after making up 20 minutes of lost time in the air. The runway was wet with good braking, but the captain opted not to bother with a rapid slowdown upon landing, instead slowing incrementally over the full length of the runway. The final scheduled flight of the night, JB 128 exited the runway west on TXY Charlie for gate 15. Just prior to the arrival of JB 128, the Red Sox, who fought back after being down 6-1, lost 6-5. It must have been a tough game to watch at Fenway; cold and wet, with only $7.00 beers to keep you warm. It's been a tough start to the season, but there are 151 games to go. Rest assured, the Sox are going to win their share of games, maybe even make the playoffs. I suppose it's what we don't know that will make it interesting, worth paying attention. What story lines will evolve? What unexpected things will happen? Are there erupting volcanoes in the Red Sox near future? The magic 8 ball says...
Monday, April 5, 2010
And then there was one...
METAR for KBTV
Time: Mon 12:54 AM EDT
Freshness:
33 minutes old
Sky: VFR
Wind: calm
Layers: Clear
Vis: 10 sm
Temp: 45° F
Dp: 36° F
Alt: 30.11
Tonight is the final night of winter season dual coverage for night operations, quietly putting an end to winter as we know it at BTV. Given the weekend of summery weather we just enjoyed, the timing seems about right. Alex, my co-host for The BTV Night Ops Show has been smiling all night, knowing he's heading back to his normal morning shift of 0700-1700, Wednesday to Saturday. I'm happy for the guy, though I'll admit, a little envious. Just a little. I'll resume holding down the fort in relative solitude, paying my dues, mindful of freedom and the light of day.
Still, I'm optimistic about the upcoming summer months. Though this summer holds a fairly intense regiment of night construction, last summer, there was a lot to enjoy. Summertime brings thunderstorms and rain and flights are typically delayed, the last dominoes to fall at the end of a long day. Awaiting those flights in the OPS truck (parked underneath the tower) gives me a strange sense of fulfillment; a connection to the quieter, more subtle nuances of the airport environment. By in large, these details go mostly unnoticed. But in the shadows below the tower, just clear of Taxiway Alpha and the airfield perimeter road, sits a terrific vantage point for viewing the majority of the airfield, including the entire RWY 15 (one-five) approach. Here, waiting for the elusive last flights, the nightly cadence of a summer finds rhythm.
Killing the engine, I'll usually flick the light bar to its slowest setting to conserve power. The windows down, sweet, humid air fills the truck, while a few vicious mosquitoes remind me that even paradise has its flaws. The airport, loud and hot on a summer day, is quiet enough to hear the crickets chirp on a summer night. Off to the south and east, a slow stream of headlights can be seen heading north on I-89. They travel silently, anonymously, off in the distance. With the exception of a sudden acceleration of a baggage tug, the chorus of crickets goes mainly undisturbed.
Meanwhile, inside the cab, there are four radios set to the following frequencies: CTAF (118.3), Airport Channel 1 (Police, Ambassadors, Parking Garage, TSA, North Security) Airport Channel 2 (Maintenance) and Boston Center (120.350). In the background, AM 960 is tuned in for Coast to Coast AM, hosted by George Norrie. George discusses alien abductions, UFO sightings or government conspiracies, often in the same night. It's perfect listening material at 0200, as nights are strange and mysterious.
But it's still April and despite what the thermometer read this weekend, summer is not in the forecast tonight. The weather is calm, but cool and the evening flights landed on time, even early. The tower closed up shop at midnight on the dot, the birds quietly resting at their gates. Back in operations, Liveatc.net streams Boston Center on my laptop. The Boston Center controller, located in Nashua, New Hampshire, blurts out seemingly random communications to aircraft I can only imagine:
"Continental 83, contact Boston Center 134.700, good night." A little detective work reveals these communications to be less than random. In this case, Continental 83 is a Boeing 777-200, originating from Delhi, India (DEL) and heading for Newark, NJ (EWR). Boston center might be relatively slow at 0300, but the blips on their radar are no less important.
A few minutes later, the same controller suddenly chimes in, "Delta 153, good morning, clear direct Charleston, West Virginia, Hotel, Victor, Quebec." I definitely recognize this controller's voice from last summer. Guess I'll be working with her again this year. Her current flight, Delta 153, happened to originate in Tel Aviv (TLV) and is headed for Atlanta (ATL), South Terminal, Gate E28.
A few taps on the keyboard reveals these additional details about Delta 153:
Carrier: Delta
Equipment Type: Boeing 777
Flight Distance: 6419 miles
Travel Time: 13 hr 20 min
ETA: 0555
Business Class Meal: Dinner
Coach Class Meal: Dinner
Movie: Yes
If Delta 153 lands on time, and I presume they are just a few minutes ahead of schedule, I'll be heading for my car at the same time the passengers are exiting the B777. I imagine they're just as tired as I am, maybe even a bit more. Thing is, I've got them beat all the way. I'll be asleep in my bed before they clear customs. Tidying up my desk, I glance over at Alex. He's still smiling. Only 90 minutes to go; the promise land awaits. One journey ends as another one begins. It goes on and on and on.
Friday, March 26, 2010
The Delicate Balance
Observed weather for 3/25/10 as of 0154 local time, 30 degrees Fahrenheit, winds 360 (due north) at 13 kts (gusts to 22 kts) with visibility of 10 statute miles.
My start time this evening was 0000 (midnight) to 0530. In Operations, it's known as the swing shift, providing a safety layer of dual coverage for the hours when the tower closes during winter operations. With only a few grains of sand left top-side of the winter operations hourglass, I'll take every minute of OT I can get. The well of winter overtime will soon be dry. I can easily justify these quick 5.5 hours shifts, knowing they'll be converted into comp time, redeemed to enjoy with my family on the shores of Lake Willoughby this June or absorbing sunshine on the beach in Ogunquit this August. But I digress.
The tower remained open 19 minutes late for Colgan 3256 this evening, arriving from Newark 96 minutes behind schedule at 0019. When the winds are out of the north and we are running a RWY 33 operation, the tower will usually stick around to control the aircraft on approach control (frequency 121.100), as long as the aircraft is reasonably close. Tuesday night, Colgan was not reasonably close, forcing them to delay departure until 0400 for a landing at approximately 0530 when the tower reopened for the next day's operations. Doing the math, that's a 6 hour and 45 minute delay. Not a good day in my book. I can only imagine the passengers in Newark, trying to get comfortable in the terminal, while the Newark janitorial staff cleans the terminal around them, silently cursing these fools sprawled out every which way. If you want my advice, if at all possible, never book the last flight home in the evening. You might get stuck in an airport all night, and you don't want to do that unless you're on the clock, like I am.
The aforementioned delay for Colgan began like this, when the tower, who keeps one of the airport's hand held radios, chimed in at 2330:
Tower: "garbled, tower."
Looking at my watch, I thought, was that for me?
Tower: "Ops, tower."
Oh, it's tower. They always seem to garble the first transmission on the airport hand held.
OPS: "Operations, go ahead."
Tower: "Yeah, I've got two flights on final right now, any other flights that you know of?"
OPS: "Colgan 3256, hasn't taken off, estimated arrival of 0123."
Tower: "Uhh, they haven't even taken off yet?", a level of disgust rippling through his voice. "I don't think we'll be sticking around that late. You say it hasn't even hasn't even taken off?"
Ops: "I'll go speak to their ground crew, have Colgan dispatch give you a call."
Tower: "With winds gusting to 20 kts, I don't think they'll be able to land."
OPS: "Roger that. I'll have their dispatch call you."
At this point, controller Steve and I both know the following; if he stays, the flight makes it. If he goes, the flight is likely delayed until 0530, when the tower reopens.
When the tower and an air carrier need to communicate, I try to remain neutral, give only the facts and let the two entities sort the details out. What I can tell you is this: The airline industry is a darn complicated creature. Combine the enormous expense of running an aircraft, mix in safety, weather and the federal government, and you've got a veritable nightmare always lurking around the corner. It's a delicate balance; the scales so frequently tipping in the wrong direction.
The situation at hand is specifically complicated because Boston Center is unable to guide aircraft in for a 33 approach due to terrain issues, mainly Camel's Hump sticking up too high on the RWY 33 approach. Aircraft can land with instruments or visually on RWY 15, given favorable weather conditions, calm wind or winds from the south. With winds gusting to 22 kts out of the north, a runway 15 approach is completely out of the question.
At 2350, Colgan dispatch calls to confirm what I already suspected; the 0530 arrival once the tower reopens. Sounds like Steve decided to get a good night's sleep. I guess it's hard to blame the guy.
Back to tonight. (2300)
The temperature outside is dropping, forecast to hit 18 degrees by 0700. Departing from the south, namely Richmond, my 13-mile trip to BTV is spent fearing the worst. I departed at 2310, driving our 1997 Volvo 850 Wagon, a powerful, low-riding tank, ready for any weather condition Vermont may offer. A steady rain falling, the roads were soaked and the temperature gauge in the Volvo read 34 degrees outside. Not good. I had set my alarm for 2300, opting for a pre-work nap; not enough time to properly warm the car up.
Driving along the relatively flat Route 2, I make my way North and West, creeping toward the airport, my eyes shifting between the road and the temperature gauge every few seconds. 33 degrees. Four miles into the trip, the heated seats began to work their magic (Boy have I become a wimp). Climbing French Hill, my imagination drifted to the realities of an icy runway, poor braking, delayed flights; the scales beginning to tip... Had the guys called in crew already? How many flights were left to land?
Arriving in the center of Williston Village, the rain suddenly slowed to sprinkles. 34 degrees. Only one mile north of Williston Village, directly in front of the Williston Fire Station, the road turned from wet to dry, just like that; the scales, balancing once again. Beginning to relax, I turn up the radio. It's going to be okay. The cleaners in Newark are on easy street tonight.
My start time this evening was 0000 (midnight) to 0530. In Operations, it's known as the swing shift, providing a safety layer of dual coverage for the hours when the tower closes during winter operations. With only a few grains of sand left top-side of the winter operations hourglass, I'll take every minute of OT I can get. The well of winter overtime will soon be dry. I can easily justify these quick 5.5 hours shifts, knowing they'll be converted into comp time, redeemed to enjoy with my family on the shores of Lake Willoughby this June or absorbing sunshine on the beach in Ogunquit this August. But I digress.
The tower remained open 19 minutes late for Colgan 3256 this evening, arriving from Newark 96 minutes behind schedule at 0019. When the winds are out of the north and we are running a RWY 33 operation, the tower will usually stick around to control the aircraft on approach control (frequency 121.100), as long as the aircraft is reasonably close. Tuesday night, Colgan was not reasonably close, forcing them to delay departure until 0400 for a landing at approximately 0530 when the tower reopened for the next day's operations. Doing the math, that's a 6 hour and 45 minute delay. Not a good day in my book. I can only imagine the passengers in Newark, trying to get comfortable in the terminal, while the Newark janitorial staff cleans the terminal around them, silently cursing these fools sprawled out every which way. If you want my advice, if at all possible, never book the last flight home in the evening. You might get stuck in an airport all night, and you don't want to do that unless you're on the clock, like I am.
The aforementioned delay for Colgan began like this, when the tower, who keeps one of the airport's hand held radios, chimed in at 2330:
Tower: "garbled, tower."
Looking at my watch, I thought, was that for me?
Tower: "Ops, tower."
Oh, it's tower. They always seem to garble the first transmission on the airport hand held.
OPS: "Operations, go ahead."
Tower: "Yeah, I've got two flights on final right now, any other flights that you know of?"
OPS: "Colgan 3256, hasn't taken off, estimated arrival of 0123."
Tower: "Uhh, they haven't even taken off yet?", a level of disgust rippling through his voice. "I don't think we'll be sticking around that late. You say it hasn't even hasn't even taken off?"
Ops: "I'll go speak to their ground crew, have Colgan dispatch give you a call."
Tower: "With winds gusting to 20 kts, I don't think they'll be able to land."
OPS: "Roger that. I'll have their dispatch call you."
At this point, controller Steve and I both know the following; if he stays, the flight makes it. If he goes, the flight is likely delayed until 0530, when the tower reopens.
When the tower and an air carrier need to communicate, I try to remain neutral, give only the facts and let the two entities sort the details out. What I can tell you is this: The airline industry is a darn complicated creature. Combine the enormous expense of running an aircraft, mix in safety, weather and the federal government, and you've got a veritable nightmare always lurking around the corner. It's a delicate balance; the scales so frequently tipping in the wrong direction.
The situation at hand is specifically complicated because Boston Center is unable to guide aircraft in for a 33 approach due to terrain issues, mainly Camel's Hump sticking up too high on the RWY 33 approach. Aircraft can land with instruments or visually on RWY 15, given favorable weather conditions, calm wind or winds from the south. With winds gusting to 22 kts out of the north, a runway 15 approach is completely out of the question.
At 2350, Colgan dispatch calls to confirm what I already suspected; the 0530 arrival once the tower reopens. Sounds like Steve decided to get a good night's sleep. I guess it's hard to blame the guy.
Back to tonight. (2300)
The temperature outside is dropping, forecast to hit 18 degrees by 0700. Departing from the south, namely Richmond, my 13-mile trip to BTV is spent fearing the worst. I departed at 2310, driving our 1997 Volvo 850 Wagon, a powerful, low-riding tank, ready for any weather condition Vermont may offer. A steady rain falling, the roads were soaked and the temperature gauge in the Volvo read 34 degrees outside. Not good. I had set my alarm for 2300, opting for a pre-work nap; not enough time to properly warm the car up.
Driving along the relatively flat Route 2, I make my way North and West, creeping toward the airport, my eyes shifting between the road and the temperature gauge every few seconds. 33 degrees. Four miles into the trip, the heated seats began to work their magic (Boy have I become a wimp). Climbing French Hill, my imagination drifted to the realities of an icy runway, poor braking, delayed flights; the scales beginning to tip... Had the guys called in crew already? How many flights were left to land?
Arriving in the center of Williston Village, the rain suddenly slowed to sprinkles. 34 degrees. Only one mile north of Williston Village, directly in front of the Williston Fire Station, the road turned from wet to dry, just like that; the scales, balancing once again. Beginning to relax, I turn up the radio. It's going to be okay. The cleaners in Newark are on easy street tonight.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
March Rain
We've shifted back into more typical March weather (WX). There's something reassuring about it. Cold rain, raw temperatures; about as cold as it gets without snowing. Last week I was driving around the airfield with the windows down. Go figure.
There were two flights after the tower closed this evening, Colgan 3256 (Continental Express, Bombardier Dash 8 Q 400)and JetBlue 128 (Airbus A320). Late flights are a welcome distraction for airport operations, providing a task to focus on as the airport grows quiet in the late evening hours. This time of the year, we simply watch the aircraft land. With the tower closed and Boston Center vectoring the flight into Burlington airspace, we have little to do but serve as silent witness to an aircraft landing safely. Should an aircraft not land safely, we initiate our emergency plan.
Listening to Boston Center on frequency (120.350), I await Boston to authorize the frequency change approval to CTAF (118.300) and for Colgan to begin advisory statements on their full ILS approach to RWY 15. Without incident, they land on the soaked runway. The Dash 8 kicks up a large plume of moisture, making for a dramatic entrance. Over on the ramp, the ground crew stands at attention. I've been there and I've done that and I can say without any hesitation that there is nothing more miserable in ground operations than standing in the pouring rain, waiting for an aircraft to taxi into gate. The dry heated cab of the operations truck further reaffirms my decision in defecting to the airport operations side of the business.
Later, after JB 128 lands, a quick stroll through the terminal reveals a small mob formed in front of the "Delta" ticket counter, apparently upset about missing bags from JFK. Although the sign above the ticket counter reads "Delta," it is operated by a regional carrier (Comair) and the counter folks are contracted through another company called Regional Elite. Contracted regional carriers and ground crews are the reality at smaller airports like BTV. One look at Paul (shift leader) from Regional Elite and I offer to call for police assistance...just to stand in back of the ticket counter...to look official. A uniformed officer almost always does the trick. Almost always. Officer Ray arrives.
"Okay, who's the problem here?" he says, loud enough for the crowd to hear. He's looking at nobody in particular, but the offending parties speaking in loud voices only moments ago, know his message is directed at them. They quietly look at the floor. Model citizens. I smile, saying, "Nobody's being a problem right now. Maybe you could just hang out here for a while."
As we wait for Paul to process the missing bag claims, Officer Ray leans up against the TSA screening table, describing the unusually busy night for airport police. A 17 year old runaway, six weeks from being 18 years old, is upstairs with Officer Paul. The runaway is booked on a flight to Alabama in the morning. The police have no ability to stop her from going to Alabama, without placing her in foster care (until her 18th birthday). Tough project to start at 2AM. At that very moment, the runaway's mother is traveling to BTV from the Northeast Kingdom on a mission to persuade her daughter to come home. The rain can only be adding to the misery of her car drive. It appears to be a situation without a reasonably good ending. The weather does funny things to people this time of year in Vermont. I wonder if the runaway took off when it was 63 degrees and sunny last week... Just a presumption. The crowd at Delta has mostly subsided. Officer Ray heads upstairs to see how things are sugaring out with the runaway. Her mother has just arrived.
Back in the operations office, the rain-spattered windows reveal a fleet of sleeping aircraft, getting a few last winks before the morning shift arrives. The pilots and flight attendants are probably asleep in their hotel beds. I decide it's too late for coffee. Glancing outside, the rain shows no signs of letting up. Maybe I'll have that coffee after all.
There were two flights after the tower closed this evening, Colgan 3256 (Continental Express, Bombardier Dash 8 Q 400)and JetBlue 128 (Airbus A320). Late flights are a welcome distraction for airport operations, providing a task to focus on as the airport grows quiet in the late evening hours. This time of the year, we simply watch the aircraft land. With the tower closed and Boston Center vectoring the flight into Burlington airspace, we have little to do but serve as silent witness to an aircraft landing safely. Should an aircraft not land safely, we initiate our emergency plan.
Listening to Boston Center on frequency (120.350), I await Boston to authorize the frequency change approval to CTAF (118.300) and for Colgan to begin advisory statements on their full ILS approach to RWY 15. Without incident, they land on the soaked runway. The Dash 8 kicks up a large plume of moisture, making for a dramatic entrance. Over on the ramp, the ground crew stands at attention. I've been there and I've done that and I can say without any hesitation that there is nothing more miserable in ground operations than standing in the pouring rain, waiting for an aircraft to taxi into gate. The dry heated cab of the operations truck further reaffirms my decision in defecting to the airport operations side of the business.
Later, after JB 128 lands, a quick stroll through the terminal reveals a small mob formed in front of the "Delta" ticket counter, apparently upset about missing bags from JFK. Although the sign above the ticket counter reads "Delta," it is operated by a regional carrier (Comair) and the counter folks are contracted through another company called Regional Elite. Contracted regional carriers and ground crews are the reality at smaller airports like BTV. One look at Paul (shift leader) from Regional Elite and I offer to call for police assistance...just to stand in back of the ticket counter...to look official. A uniformed officer almost always does the trick. Almost always. Officer Ray arrives.
"Okay, who's the problem here?" he says, loud enough for the crowd to hear. He's looking at nobody in particular, but the offending parties speaking in loud voices only moments ago, know his message is directed at them. They quietly look at the floor. Model citizens. I smile, saying, "Nobody's being a problem right now. Maybe you could just hang out here for a while."
As we wait for Paul to process the missing bag claims, Officer Ray leans up against the TSA screening table, describing the unusually busy night for airport police. A 17 year old runaway, six weeks from being 18 years old, is upstairs with Officer Paul. The runaway is booked on a flight to Alabama in the morning. The police have no ability to stop her from going to Alabama, without placing her in foster care (until her 18th birthday). Tough project to start at 2AM. At that very moment, the runaway's mother is traveling to BTV from the Northeast Kingdom on a mission to persuade her daughter to come home. The rain can only be adding to the misery of her car drive. It appears to be a situation without a reasonably good ending. The weather does funny things to people this time of year in Vermont. I wonder if the runaway took off when it was 63 degrees and sunny last week... Just a presumption. The crowd at Delta has mostly subsided. Officer Ray heads upstairs to see how things are sugaring out with the runaway. Her mother has just arrived.
Back in the operations office, the rain-spattered windows reveal a fleet of sleeping aircraft, getting a few last winks before the morning shift arrives. The pilots and flight attendants are probably asleep in their hotel beds. I decide it's too late for coffee. Glancing outside, the rain shows no signs of letting up. Maybe I'll have that coffee after all.
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