Arthur Hailey - Runway Zero-Eight

“Well, take it as easy as you can, will you? Things are bad enough back here. How are you doing?”

“Fine, just fine, Doc,” said Spencer, licking his lips. The door closed again and Treleaven’s voice came on the air. “Hullo, George Spencer. Everything okay? Over.”

“All under control, Vancouver,” replied Janet.

“Good. What’s your present heading, George?”

Spencer peered down. “Tell him the magnetic compass is still showing about 290 and I’ve been keeping fairly steady on that.” She did so.

“Very well, George. Try to stay on that heading. You may be a little out, but I’ll tell you when to correct. Right now I want you to feel how the ship handles at lower speeds when the flaps and wheels are down. But don’t do anything until I give you the instructions. Is that clear? Over.”

Janet got Spencer’s nod and asked Treleaven to proceed.

“Hullo, 714. First of all, throttle back slightly, not much, and get your air speed steady at 160 knots. Adjust your trim to maintain level flight. Then tell me when you’re ready. Over.”

Spencer straightened himself and called over, “Watch that air speed, Janet. You’ll have to call it off to me when we land, so you may as well start practicing now.”

“It’s on 190,” Janet recited. “200… 190… He said 160, Mr. Spencer.”

“I know, I know. I’m going to throttle back a bit.”

He reached out for the throttles and eased them back. “What is it, Janet? What’s the speed?”

“190, 180, 175, 170, 165, 155, 150… That’s too low!”

“I know. Watch it! Watch it!”

His hand nursed the throttle levers, almost caressing them into the exact positioning to achieve the speed he wanted. Janet’s eyes were riveted on the flickering needle of the dial.

“150, 150, 155, 160… it’s steady on 160.”

Spencer puffed out his cheeks. “Phew! That’s got it. Tell him, Jan.”

“Hullo, Vancouver. Our speed is steady on 160. Over.”

Treleavan sounded impatient, as if he had expected them to be ready before this. “Okay, 714. Now, George. I want you to put on 15 degrees of flap, but be careful not to make it any more. The flap lever is at the base of the control pedestal and marked plainly: 15 degrees will mean moving the lever down to the second notch. The flap-indicator dial is in the center of the panel — the main panel. Have you got both of those? Can you see them? Over.”

Spencer located the lever. “Confirm that,” he told Janet, “but you’d better do it. Right?”

She acknowledged to Vancouver and sat waiting, her hand on the lever.

“Hullo, 714. When I tell you, push it all the way down and watch that dial. When the needle reaches 15 degrees, pull the lever up and leave it at the second notch. You’ll have to watch and be ready for it. Those flaps come down in a hurry. All clear?”

“We’re ready, Vancouver,” said Janet.

“Right. Go ahead, then.”

She prepared to depress the lever, then jerked her head up in alarm.

“The air speed! It’s down to 125.”

Spencer’s eyes flicked over to the air-speed indicator. Then desperately he pushed the control column forward. “Call it off!” he roared. “Call it off!”

The lurch of the aircraft brought their stomachs to their mouths. Janet almost crouched in front of the panel, intoning the figures.

“135, 140, 150, 160, 170, 175… Can’t you get it back to 160?”

“I’m trying, I’m trying.” Again he levelled off and jockeyed the controls until the ASI had been coaxed back to the reading required. He passed his sleeve hurriedly over his forehead, afraid to remove his hand from the column for long enough to get out a handkerchief. “There it is. 160, isn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s better.”

“That was close.” He sat back in his seat. “Look, let’s relax for a minute, after that.” He managed to muster up a smile. “You can see the kind of pilot I am. I should have known that would happen.”

“No, it was my job to watch the air speed.” She took a deep breath to steady her pounding heart “I think you’re doing wonderfully,” she said. Her voice shook slightly.

It was not lost on Spencer. He said quickly and with exaggerated heartiness, “You can’t say I didn’t warn you. Come on, then, Janet. Let’s get going.”

“Hullo, George,” Treleaven’s voice crackled in the earphones. “Are your flaps down yet?”

“We’re just about to put them down, Captain,” said Janet.

“Hold it. I omitted to tell you that when the flaps are down you will lose speed. Bring it back to 140. Over.”

“Well, I’ll be —!” Spencer ejaculated. “That’s mighty nice of him. He cut it pretty fine.”

“It’s probably hectic down there,” said Janet, who had a very good idea of the scene taking place at the airport. “Thank you, Captain,” she said, transmitting. “We’re starting now. Over.” At a nod from Spencer she pushed the lever down as far as it would go, while Spencer watched the indicator carefully.

“Right. Now back to second notch.”

With infinite caution he cajoled the ASI needle until it rested steadily at 140.

“Tell him, Janet”

“Hullo, Vancouver. Our flaps are down 15 degrees and the air speed is 140.”

“714. Are you still maintaining level flight?”

Spencer nodded to her. “Tell him, yes — well, more or less, anyway.”

“Hullo, Vancouver. More or less.”

“Okay, 714. Now the next thing is to put the wheels down. Then you’ll get the feel of the airplane as it will be when you’re landing. Try to keep your altitude steady and your speed at 140. When you are ready — and make sure you are ready — put down the landing gear and let the speed come back to 120. You will probably have to advance your throttle setting to maintain that air speed, and also adjust the trim. Is that understood? Tell me if you are doubtful about anything. Over.”

“Ask him,” said Spencer, “what about propeller controls and mixture?”

At Janet’s question, Treleaven said in an aside to Burdick, “Well, this guy’s thinking, anyway. For the time being,” he said into the microphone, “leave them alone. Just concentrate on holding that air speed steady with the wheels and flaps down. Later on I’ll give you a full cockpit check for landing. Over.”

“Tell him, understood,” said Spencer. “We’re putting down the wheels now.” He looked apprehensively at the selector lever by his leg. It seemed a much better idea to keep both hands on the column. “Look, Janet, I think you’d better work the undercart lever and call off the air speed as the wheels come down.”

Janet complied. The arrest in their forward flight was so pronounced that it was like applying a brake, jerking them in their seats.

“130, 125, 120, 115… It’s too low.”

“Keep calling!”

“115, 120, 120… Steady on 120.”

“I’ll get this thing yet,” Spencer panted. “She’s like the Queen Mary.”

Treleaven’s voice came up, with a hint of anxiety. “All okay, George? Your wheels should be down by now.”

“Wheels down, Vancouver.”

“Look for three green lights to show you that they’re locked. Also there’s a pressure gauge on the extreme left of the center panel, and the needle should be in the green range. Check.”

“Are they on?” asked Spencer. Janet looked and nodded. “Better tell him, then.”

“Yes, Vancouver. All correct.”

“And say she still handles like a wet sponge, only more so.”

“Hullo, Vancouver. The pilot says she still handles like a sponge, only more so.”

“Don’t worry about that. Now we’ll put on full flaps, shall we, and then you’ll have the proper feel of the aircraft on landing. You’ll soon get the hang of it. Now follow me closely. Put full flap on, bring your air speed back to 110 knots and trim to hold you steady. Adjust the throttle to maintain the altitude. Then I’ll give you instructions for holding your height and air speed while you raise the landing gear and flaps. Over.”