Post by Dutch Owen on Oct 1, 2013 23:20:15 GMT -5
Flying in Alaska, you learn to take the weather reports with a large dollop of salt. Things change so fast the METAR is usually just a hope - or a warning. You really just have to go there and see for yourself.
Still, as far as I could see, everything looked like a smooth flight at FL330 out to Augustus and back in the 732. It needed to be -- Augustus (PAGS) is not only an uncontrolled field with no ILS, it doesn't even have runway lighting. And our flight was scheduled to get there right before sunset. But, no problem, as the skies were clear.
And indeed they were, gorgeous vistas of snow capped peaks glowing in the late afternoon sun. The flight was totally routine, and the latest reports were showing 10SM FEW040 FEW075 as we started our descent. The long glide from FL330 on the route from Fairbanks (the Acme Alaska hub) takes you over some spectacular peaks as you cruise down to the sea level PAGS. You really don't want to descend too fast, just mosey on down at about 1000FPM. We'd cleared the last of the peaks when we saw the clouds. A thick bank of them ahead. Well, no problem, we know it's clear down on the coast, right?
I decided to check in via ATC, and they told me visibility was 1 mile in mist. But the METAR says 10SM. So, incredulously, I checked the ActiveSky control panel outside FS, and it agreed exactly with the METAR on the FCDU. But outside the window, we could see nothing but a reddish glowing mist. I told ASE to update the weather depiction, which it did. Same METAR, same mist. Okay, we were stuck.
Worse than stuck - because while we have 1 mile (company minimum) in reality, the METAR says it's 10 miles or more. Acme says no divert. You gotta land. That's what we pay you for. No ILS, uncontrolled field, no runway lighting at night, narrow, short runway deep in the trees. What are you worried about?
Okay, so, we'll do a non-precision approach. I select the VOR-DME because I have a plate for that one, and besides, there's a holding pattern at SSR as part of the procedure, and once the FCDU detects the hold it'll give me a free ETE revision - which we need to be sure we're on time.
That part worked great, in fact, my teardrop entry into the hold was right on target and I rolled out right on the radial I wanted to be on. In theory, all we had to do is establish a 500FPM descent from the VOR and track the 297 degree radial and we'd pop out right in front of runway 29. But at 150 knots in a fully loaded 737-200 descending into a reddish foggy mist where you can see nothing as the GPWS counts down is scary - with no ILS glideslope to reassure you.
I kept an eye on the altimeter looking for the MDA which was about 1200 feet. Eventually we got there, configured right with gear and flaps down, but nothing but dim trees visible out the window. No airport. I took a glance at the GPS display - we were three miles to the right of the airport! I looked at the VOR - right on the 297 degree radial.
So much for the approach procedure. But the company wouldn't allow me the weather divert I so desperately needed. So, try, try again. Only this time I was going to use eyes and wits instead of procedures. This is Acme after all. We deliver. So, I spooled up some power and took off some flaps, leveled us at 1500 feet, and swung around back over the airport and out to sea again. This time I was going to eyeball the GPS display and cruise at 1200 feet aiming right at the airport flying at a heading of 297.
Out again -- good thing I used that ETE revision to give myself enough time, I had plenty -- and at about seven miles out I carefully did a 180 and descended to 1200 and configured the 737 for landing. Nothing visible out the front window, but at Vref + 10 we crept closer and closer, me eying the GPS when I wasn't peering out the window.
It's hard not to feel a bit of creeping terror. Miss this airport too far and you're into the mountains and SMACK! But slowly, out of the darkening mist (I had to turn on the cockpit lights) I could make out a line of dim trees again - the coastline. Somewhere near there was an airport. An airport surrounded by tall firs with a short, unlighted runway and an Acme ramp crew waiting to unload our stuff.
Nothing...nothing...we came in screaming over the treetops it seemed. I'd turned on every landing and taxi light I had to try and see the runway. Nothing...nothing...was it time to go around? But there...in the gloom...the sight of two red VASIs! I was slightly to the right and low, but correctable if I didn't panic. I eased up the throttles and banked gently. We glided in...500....400...and finally in the glare of the landing lights I could see the runway, close in! Cut the throttles and let her drop and raise the nose at the last second...plunk! Reverse thrust, and we stopped well short of the end of the narrow runway. "That was a nice one" Trav says.
Calmly we taxi in to the ramp, where the ramp crew waits. It's pretty in the late afternoon mist, trees standing ghostly all around us, now that that same foggy glow isn't trying to kill us.
"Now that was a nice flight!" my First Officer says, as we shut down and hit the END FLIGHT key.
Yes, it was. A near miracle, but nice nonetheless.
Dutch
Still, as far as I could see, everything looked like a smooth flight at FL330 out to Augustus and back in the 732. It needed to be -- Augustus (PAGS) is not only an uncontrolled field with no ILS, it doesn't even have runway lighting. And our flight was scheduled to get there right before sunset. But, no problem, as the skies were clear.
And indeed they were, gorgeous vistas of snow capped peaks glowing in the late afternoon sun. The flight was totally routine, and the latest reports were showing 10SM FEW040 FEW075 as we started our descent. The long glide from FL330 on the route from Fairbanks (the Acme Alaska hub) takes you over some spectacular peaks as you cruise down to the sea level PAGS. You really don't want to descend too fast, just mosey on down at about 1000FPM. We'd cleared the last of the peaks when we saw the clouds. A thick bank of them ahead. Well, no problem, we know it's clear down on the coast, right?
I decided to check in via ATC, and they told me visibility was 1 mile in mist. But the METAR says 10SM. So, incredulously, I checked the ActiveSky control panel outside FS, and it agreed exactly with the METAR on the FCDU. But outside the window, we could see nothing but a reddish glowing mist. I told ASE to update the weather depiction, which it did. Same METAR, same mist. Okay, we were stuck.
Worse than stuck - because while we have 1 mile (company minimum) in reality, the METAR says it's 10 miles or more. Acme says no divert. You gotta land. That's what we pay you for. No ILS, uncontrolled field, no runway lighting at night, narrow, short runway deep in the trees. What are you worried about?
Okay, so, we'll do a non-precision approach. I select the VOR-DME because I have a plate for that one, and besides, there's a holding pattern at SSR as part of the procedure, and once the FCDU detects the hold it'll give me a free ETE revision - which we need to be sure we're on time.
That part worked great, in fact, my teardrop entry into the hold was right on target and I rolled out right on the radial I wanted to be on. In theory, all we had to do is establish a 500FPM descent from the VOR and track the 297 degree radial and we'd pop out right in front of runway 29. But at 150 knots in a fully loaded 737-200 descending into a reddish foggy mist where you can see nothing as the GPWS counts down is scary - with no ILS glideslope to reassure you.
I kept an eye on the altimeter looking for the MDA which was about 1200 feet. Eventually we got there, configured right with gear and flaps down, but nothing but dim trees visible out the window. No airport. I took a glance at the GPS display - we were three miles to the right of the airport! I looked at the VOR - right on the 297 degree radial.
So much for the approach procedure. But the company wouldn't allow me the weather divert I so desperately needed. So, try, try again. Only this time I was going to use eyes and wits instead of procedures. This is Acme after all. We deliver. So, I spooled up some power and took off some flaps, leveled us at 1500 feet, and swung around back over the airport and out to sea again. This time I was going to eyeball the GPS display and cruise at 1200 feet aiming right at the airport flying at a heading of 297.
Out again -- good thing I used that ETE revision to give myself enough time, I had plenty -- and at about seven miles out I carefully did a 180 and descended to 1200 and configured the 737 for landing. Nothing visible out the front window, but at Vref + 10 we crept closer and closer, me eying the GPS when I wasn't peering out the window.
It's hard not to feel a bit of creeping terror. Miss this airport too far and you're into the mountains and SMACK! But slowly, out of the darkening mist (I had to turn on the cockpit lights) I could make out a line of dim trees again - the coastline. Somewhere near there was an airport. An airport surrounded by tall firs with a short, unlighted runway and an Acme ramp crew waiting to unload our stuff.
Nothing...nothing...we came in screaming over the treetops it seemed. I'd turned on every landing and taxi light I had to try and see the runway. Nothing...nothing...was it time to go around? But there...in the gloom...the sight of two red VASIs! I was slightly to the right and low, but correctable if I didn't panic. I eased up the throttles and banked gently. We glided in...500....400...and finally in the glare of the landing lights I could see the runway, close in! Cut the throttles and let her drop and raise the nose at the last second...plunk! Reverse thrust, and we stopped well short of the end of the narrow runway. "That was a nice one" Trav says.
Calmly we taxi in to the ramp, where the ramp crew waits. It's pretty in the late afternoon mist, trees standing ghostly all around us, now that that same foggy glow isn't trying to kill us.
"Now that was a nice flight!" my First Officer says, as we shut down and hit the END FLIGHT key.
Yes, it was. A near miracle, but nice nonetheless.
Dutch
