FIFTY…THIRTY…TEN…

A semi-urgent computerized male voice calls out my altitude. I stare at my radar altimeter, trying to make this landing smooth. I hear and feel a thump, 14 wheels coming into contact with the ground. A bit smoother, but I’m off centerline again. I call for flaps 15.
“Flaps 15,” my co-pilot responds, moving the flaps handle to the takeoff setting as I slowly advance the two throttles. I click the TOGA switch and am pressed into my seat as the two huge Pratt and Whitney turbofan engines spool up, rapidly advancing the Boeing 777 towards Vr. I slowly apply backpressure to the yoke when the flight director indicates that it’s time for takeoff. Too much, stop manhandling it. Fly smoother. I overshoot the 18 degree climb attitude. Peeking outside the window I catch a glimpse of the city of Denver with the Rocky Mountains in the background. “Climb checklist please.”

No, Cessna 152’s did not get an aural warning system, and this is not a highly detailed dream of mine. It’s a simulator of one of the biggest and most advanced airplanes of this era: The Boeing Triple-Seven. Coming in at a whopping 648,000 pounds, to say it has a few more buttons than a Cessna is an understatement. With 90,000 pounds of thrust on each wing and fly-by-wire flight controls, the 777 is as good as it gets.
There are few things in my life that I enjoy more than flying. One of the things that I enjoy more than flying is simulators. Being a lifelong aviation enthusiast, most of my early flight experience came in the form of Microsoft Flight simulator. As real hours began filling my logbook my enthusiasm for flight simulators still did not diminish. I currently enjoy competing in the simulator event for flight team.

Myself and a friend were invited to Denver to take place in an annual recurrent training class that all airline crews are required to attend on a monthly basis, usually every six or eight months. The Captain just happened to be the father of one of my best friends. After we arrive in Denver The Captain tells my friend and I that the first thing we are attending is “Ground.” I had no idea what this meant. He leads us to a non-descript room that contains an entire cockpit mock-up of the 777. The instructor and first officer are already here, “preparing” the airplane for departure. This is a glorified version of a flight training device, which is what our Frasca simulators are at SIU. Although this this FTD is infinitely more complicated than 141C, the basics still apply. No visuals or motion, but all the instruments work so you can “fly” it through various scenarios.

The crew starts out by loading the flight management computer. If you don’t know what an FMC is, it’s basically how airliners navigate today. The crew programs their route into the FMC before departure, and the auto-pilot takes care of the navigation during flight. Easy, simple, reduced work load and greater precision are all things that FMC’s were designed for. However, I learn very quickly that programming an FMC is work of art, the intricacies and quirks are something that takes years of training and experience to master. Later in the day, my attempts at programming a simple approach are feeble at best.

The atmosphere in the FTD is relaxed and nonchalant. The instructor takes the crew through various scenarios ranging from a failed fuel pump during engine startup to an engine fire at altitude. A TCAS drill is about as exciting as it gets.

I am amazed by the crew resource management that the captain and first officer are displaying. Their coordination is seamless and professional. Neither misses a single call out, and the handling of the many issues and events that are thrown at them by the instructor is effortless and precise. I have a long ways to go till I get to this level.

After about two hours in the FTD, it’s my turn. We position about 30 miles outside of HNL, and set up for a VOR approach.

None of it comes naturally to me. It’s confusing; there are a hundred different buttons I need to push. What mode do I select? FLCH what?? Push what button??? The FMC must be programmed and the auto-pilot set correctly. It is very overwhelming, and being a pre-instrument student at the time does nothing to help my situational awareness. Never the less I eventually get the 777 down to minimums and execute a missed approach.

The rest of the day is spent in the classroom, with my friend, the flight crew, four flight attendants, and myself poring over the airlines’ Op Specs for three hours. This is so boring. I don’t care where the fire extinguishers are located in the forward galley. The instructor and crew obviously don’t share my boredom. They instructor is rattling off questions like a busy tower controller, and the crew answer the questions accordingly. It really is amazing to see how much these guys have to know in order to be an international wide body pilot.
The next morning we get into the real thing. Well, not ACTUALLY the real thing, but it’s as good as it gets for a student pilot. A level D simulator with six axis of motion, digital sound, and the ability to simulate through visuals any sort of weather condition, day or night. This training facility had 26 of them, and they can cost as much as the actual airplane. These things are no Microsoft Flight Simulator X…

On runway 1R at Washington Dulles. The crew is loading the FMC for the next scenario

The crew along with me, my friend, and the instructor strap into one of the three 777 simulators and go through about three hours of the hard stuff: V1 cuts, RTO’s, hand flown single engine CAT II approaches, and hardest of all: A HOLD. You should have seen the look of fear in the crew’s eyes when the instructor gave then the dreaded “I have holding instructions, advice when ready to copy.”

After the requirements for the training are met, logbooks and endorsements are signed, and the First Officer races off to catch a flight. I can hardly wait, It’s my turn now.

This is how the simulators get their FEEL. The hydraulic legs move the simulator in six axis. You can actually fly these by the seat of your pants
This feels so real! I’m sitting at the end of runway 35R at Denver international. I can see the Rocky Mountains off in the distance. As I taxi into position I can FEEL the bumps and cracks in the runway. I can FEEL the sway in the airplane as I turn a little too sharply. I can FEEL the acceleration press me back in my seat. This is freaking awesome…
WIND SHEAR WHIND SHEAR, PULL UP. Oh crap. My altitude is in the single digits. Airspeed is precariously low. Stick shaker is going off. It FEELS like I’m about to fall out of the sky. The 777 is shaking, resisting the downward wash of cold air. Even though it is only a simulator, this wind shear scenario is SCARY.

Time to land. It really should be simple, the basics do still apply, but there is something about having an additional 600,000 pounds that makes landing a 777 a slightly different experience than landing a 152. Just fly the flight director I’m told. Auto throttles are holding our Vref of153knots precisely, there are 2 white and 2 red in the PAPI. This is kind of easy, I can do this. I shouldn’t have thought that, my fist landing is HARD, off centerline, and barely in control. I move the flaps to 15. Wait, shouldn’t have done that. That’s the non-flying pilot’s job. I sit back and CALL for flaps 15. The two Take-Off and Go-Around (TOGA) buttons are pushed. The engines spool up to takeoff thrust, as indicated by the EPR (engine pressure ratio) on the engine readout display. Once again I’m bumping up and down, pressed back in my seat, slipping the surely simulated bonds of earth…

I left Denver later that day and with about an hour of Boeing 777 time penned into my logbook. Even though the flying part was cool, the amazing part was seeing a professional flight crew at the top of the pecking order function in a stressful environment, albeit simulated. Their actions and coolness under pressure, as well and their knowledge and skill is a great role model for future professional pilots like myself. They are what I want to be when I grow up, and I cannot wait to get there.