Hong Kong - High speed

Descent and landing in Hong Kong on a beautiful afternoon. 30 minutes are condensed into 3 and a half which makes for a very nice effect I find.

Please excuse the very very stupid autofocus on the camera. I shall replace it as soon as I can.

S.

A few firsts

A few firsts today, my first day flying in over a week:

We landed with the lowest visibility yet, a mere 600 meters. Any lower and it's cat 2 / autoland operations. There was a stiff 20kt crosswind, lightning, and the usual driving rain as well.

I received my latest landing clearance, at about 150ft above the runway. Some ignorant A330 crew flying for a flag carrier decided to take their sweet time backtracking to vacate at an intersection 1500m from the landing threshold, and 1000m from the far end.

Actually I have received later landing clearances, at maybe 100ft, but this was flying a 1300kg tin can doing 55 knots. Flying a 62 ton bus doing 140 knots makes it rather more ... exhilarating.

Finally I logged my thousandth hour today, somewhere near Singapore. I don't suddenly feel different or anything, but the 4 digits look cool in the logbook. I think I was pilot flying as well.

S.

When the heavens open again

Different day, different crew, different place but very much the same theme as my last post. I wrote it a while ago but then lost it in my flight bag for a while.

The sun has set behind us as we race towards Kuching. Singapore Radar says good bye and Kuching Radar says hello. The super advanced weather radar is telling me that our destination is sitting right under a very active raincloud, and the HUGE clouds which are now barely visible in the dwindling sunlight confirm this. I ask for 20 miles off track to avoid the worst of it.

...

10 minutes and 20 000ft later we're getting into the thick of it. Weather avoidance has become futile - the best I can do is avoid the red bits on the radar. Outside the rain is giving us a good planewash and the odd embedded CB I can't avoid massages the passengers, quite forcefully at times. We eventually clear the worst of the weather and accept vectors for final. The weather radar is telling us the approach and landing should be dry-ish. We have flown 30 extra miles by now.

...

Director turns us onto final approach at 12 miles and I intercept the localiser and glide path at the same time, just as we reach the interception altitude. I always get a kick out of flying a constant descent and keeping the engines at idle and even the weather hasn't ruined it too badly today. The runway appears ahead of us and it looks like this will be an uneventful approach.

...

4 miles from touch down and I realise this won't be an uneventful approach. Surface winds are reported calm yet I'm flying straight into 25knots which can only mean that there is a big nasty thunder cell nearby. There suddenly is a whole lot of red right over the runway and some drops are hitting the windscreen. My senses are on high alert for any sign of windshear.

100ft above the ground and the few drops are now a torrential downpour. The wipers are flapping uselessly and the rain repellant (some sort of goo that should make it easier to see out when it's raining) is not working - as usual. All I can see is a blur of light either side where the runway edges should be and a whole lot of black everywhere else. Head down, I fly the ILS to 50 feet then flare on the radio altimeter half expecting the resulting landing to break my back ... and it doesn't. The touch down is beautiful and more or less on centreline - although I can't see any sign of it. Full reverse, full brakes and we're off a few seconds later.

...

After shutting down (20 minutes later because of a gate mixup - but that's another story) I discuss the landing with the captain. He reckons we had about 1000m visibility on touch down and we both agree that it was a rather unpleasant final approach. The rain thunders down for another 15 minutes then suddenly stops, as if someone switched off a tap somewhere. Take-off back to Singapore is uneventful, most of the nasty weather has gone to play elsewhere.

S.

When the heavens open...

I can see the CB drift in as I prepare the aircraft, willing the ground staff to get on with it and allow us to depart early. The huge mass of very dark, almost black cloud is slowly but steadily moving towards the airfield.

...

I call for pushback clearance as the first drops are starting to fall. This will be tight. In the 3 minutes it takes us to push, start the engines and get the checks done the few drops have turned into a steady shower. Tower has just reported a 180˚ change in wind direction, and the intensity is increasing rapidly. Taxi please.

We reach the holding point, #2 for departure. The departure path looks very unpleasant. A company 320 backtracks the runway from the far end where it had been almost ready to go before the 20kt tailwind appears. Just as it starts to roll the heavens really open up and the visibility drops to 2000, 1000 then only 500 meters. That's 500 meters in RAIN. The plane is shaking from the power of the gusts and I feel like I'm sitting in a car wash.

...

20 minutes later it's still raining hard. 2 aircraft have gone around, one has diverted, there are 3 of us on the ground waiting to depart. The rain eases slightly and the other side of the airfield reappears - the visibility is about 1-2000 meters now. Side ways glance, nod, and I call ready.

Lining up I can see maybe 1/3 of the 3000 meter runway. Not a lot but well above our minimums. The runway looks like a swimming pool. Take off.

Hundred Knots! I think to myself that I can't really see much runway at all - the rain is completely defeating the wipers which are frantically flapping up and down and outside is just a blur of grey with some light either side.

Vee-one, rotate! Thank goodness we are flying now - no runway edge to worry about, just the menace of downdrafts and windshear. With TOGA power set and the gear stowed away the rather light 'bus powers into the sky.

...

5 minutes later we are at FL140, 20 miles from the airport and the sky ahead is a clear summer blue with only a few little clouds here and there. The muscles in my legs start to loosen and I stop squeezing the side stick. Captain K is also looking a little more relaxed now, the take off was bad enough for me as pilot monitoring - actually keeping the bus on the very badly lit runway (which we couldn't see) in a 20 knot crosswind (which we could feel) can't have been much fun.

...

Landing at destination, only 100 miles away, is in CAVOK weather. The return leg is only slightly bumpy and by the time we're back the monster CB, 50 miles by 30 miles, has gone to play elsewhere. I see the runway at 12 miles and grease a landing on what is now only a slightly damp runway. Yet another day in the topics.

S.