Forty minutes to make Anchorage. Forty. Come on.
Military?
Forty minutes is plenty. If you run.
He’s overcorrecting.
Who?!
Whoever’s flying.
Nobody’s talking. The captain should be on the speaker by now.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is your purser. If there is a doctor or a nurse on board, please press your call button.
A doctor? For some bumps?
Not for bumps. Somebody up front is hurt.
Ladies and gentlemen, if there is a pilot on board, any pilot at all, please press your call button now.
You gonna press that?
I fly a jet with one seat. If there’s an airline pilot on this plane, that’s who they want. Not me.
Somebody’ll press it. There’s always somebody.
Nobody’s pressing. Nate, nobody.
Then there’s no airline pilot back there. They’d hit the button already.
Then who do I ask for?
Military. Those guys fly home in a hoodie and sleep. They won’t think you mean them. And I need somebody who flies by hand every single day. Say fighter pilot.
Nate? You okay?
I’m cold. Things keep going dark on me. I won’t last to Seattle like this. Hurry.
Is there a fighter pilot on board? Or any military pilot who’s flown jets? Please press your call button. Now.
Well, that’s you. Isn’t it?
Sorry. Eight-B…
You?
Lieutenant Commander Erin Rourke, U.S. Navy. I fly Super Hornets.
I asked you if you were military!
You did.
Captain Albright stepped out to use the restroom. We can’t leave one pilot alone up there, so I went in and sat with Nate—Nate Lewis, our first officer. That’s how I got this. The captain came back in, and he was still standing when we hit the turbulence.
The story continues. Type “LOVE,” and I’ll post the rest of what happened next.
Part 3
He went straight up into the ceiling. He’s out cold on the floor. A nurse from 3C is trying to stop the bleeding.
And your co-pilot?
Nate had his lap belt on, but not his shoulder straps. It threw him into the side window. His right arm’s broken. He’s flying with his left.
How’s he doing?
Bad. The nurse says he’s going into shock.
Autopilot?
He tried twice. It keeps dropping off.
Marcus Bell, purser. Can you fly this thing?
I’ll know in about ten seconds.
Lewis. Look at me. I’m Navy. I’m getting in the captain’s seat.
Navy. Twelve years in the Air Force, and the Navy shows up. …Figures.
I have the airplane.
You have the airplane.
She’s way out of trim. She’s been fighting you this whole time.
My bad arm. Trim switch is on my right handle. That’s my bad arm. Every time I let go to reach the backup switches, she dives.
There. That’s better. Now she’ll stay where I put her. Not your fault, Lewis. Stay in that seat. You’re my second set of eyes. You point, I push.
Copy that.
He can’t stay wedged in here. Help me get him out to the galley. Careful with his neck.
Mayday, mayday, mayday. Seattle Center, Cascade 442 Heavy. Both pilots are injured. This is Lieutenant Commander Erin Rourke, U.S. Navy, at the controls.
Cascade 442 Heavy, Seattle Center. Copy your mayday. How many people on board?
Marcus! How many on board?
Two hundred and ten souls, counting crew.
Two hundred and ten souls.
Copy. Commander, how many hours do you have in a 767?
Zero hours. About two thousand in Hornets.
Understood. Stand by. I’m patching in your company.
Cascade 442 Heavy, this is Gene Sutter. I’ve flown this airplane thirty-one years. From here to the gate, I’m sitting right next to you. What do I call you?
Erin. Or Navy. Either one.
Navy it is. How many carrier landings have you got?
Three hundred, give or take. Last one was four days ago.
Okay. We’ll come back to that. First, let’s get you some help. Look up at the long panel under the windshield. Three buttons in a row that say CMD. The left one is yours.
That one. Left CMD. It kept dropping off on Lewis, but I’ve trimmed her since. Pressing it.
It’s holding. Gene, it’s holding.
That’s why it wouldn’t take before. You fixed that. Hands in your lap for a minute. Let her fly.
Gene, I’ve got “NO AUTOLAND” up here. The captain hit the overhead panel when we dropped.
Then whatever he hit up there, it took autoland with it.
It took autoland with it. What does that mean for me?
It means she’ll fly herself down to the bottom of the clouds. The last part, somebody has to fly by hand. That’s you.
How low are the clouds in Seattle?
Eight hundred feet. And rain.
They’re terrified back there. What do I tell them?
Don’t lie to them. Don’t tell them it’s fine. Tell them it’s handled.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is Marcus, your purser. I’m gonna tell you exactly where we are. Both of our pilots were hurt in that turbulence. A Navy pilot from our cabin is flying this airplane now, and the autopilot is helping her. We’re on our way down to Seattle. I won’t tell you it’s fine. But it’s handled.
That’s her. She was sitting right next to me. Slept the whole way from Dallas.
Your captain’s breathing. He’s got a bad concussion. He needs a hospital, and soon.
Copy. Keep an eye on Lewis for me.
Cascade 442 Heavy, Seattle Approach. Expect the approach to runway one-six left. Clouds at eight hundred feet, light rain, wind from the southwest, gusting twenty-five.
Gene, is there anywhere with better weather?
Everything around Seattle is under the same clouds. The nearest clear field is forty minutes away.
The nurse says my captain needs a hospital. Soon.
Then he doesn’t have forty minutes. Seattle’s got the longest runway around and an ambulance at the end of it.
We’re going to Seattle. Seattle’s home anyway.
Then let’s get you home.
Here’s the plan. Approach gives you a heading and an altitude. You dial each one in and push the button next to it. The autothrottle holds your speed, and I’ll give you the numbers.
Then you tune in a radio beam that runs straight down to the runway and press APP. When she catches that beam, the autopilot rides it down. At eight hundred feet, you come out of the clouds, you click the autopilot off, and you hand-fly the last two miles.
Copy. Dial and push, tune the beam, APP, click off at eight hundred.
Cascade 442 Heavy, turn left heading one-eight-zero, descend and maintain four thousand.
Heading one-eight-zero, she’s turning. Four thousand, she’s coming down.
Now the beam. Lewis, read her the frequency off your chart.
One-one-zero… point three.
Frequency’s in. APP’s pressed. There’s the beam. She’s locked on.
Gene, my body’s telling me we’re turning.
Your inner ear’s a liar. Look at the little airplane on the screen in front of you. What’s it doing?
Wings level.
Then believe the screen.
Speed… two-forty… two…
It’s two-twenty, Lewis. …Lewis?
I need the nurse! Now!
He’s in shock. He’s out.
Gene, I’ve lost my co-pilot. It’s just me now.
Then it’s you and me, Navy. Flaps first. The lever by your right hand. Flaps five, and dial one-ninety.
Flaps five. One-ninety.
Now the wheels. The gear handle’s on the middle panel, the one with a little wheel on the end. Pull it out and push it down.
Gear down. Three green.
Flaps twenty. Dial one-sixty.
Flaps twenty. One-sixty.
Flaps thirty. One-fifty. That’s your landing speed.
Flaps thirty. One-fifty.
Ladies and gentlemen, brace positions now. Feet flat on the floor. Head down against the seat in front of you. Stay down until this airplane stops.
Heads down! Stay down! Stay down! Heads down! Stay down!
Navy. Last thing, and it’s the one that matters. Or you end up in the water. Do that here, and you’ll slam her down so hard she bounces.
This airplane wants a soft hand. At thirty feet, ease back and bring the power to idle. Don’t hold her off. Let her settle. Can you do that?
Fifteen years of muscle memory says no.
Then don’t listen to fifteen years. Listen to me. Hold your mic button down all the way in. I want to hear every callout. Light touch. Small moves. Don’t overcorrect.
One thousand. Nine hundred. Eight-fifty.
Gene, I don’t have it. I can’t see a thing.
Let her fly. It’s there. Runway in sight?
Runway in sight.
She’s yours, Navy. Click it off.
Autopilot’s off. I’ve got her.
Wind’s pushing you. Little corrections. Little. Light touch.
Cascade 442 Heavy, Seattle Tower. Runway one-six left, cleared to land.
Five hundred.
One hundred. Fifty. Forty. Thirty.
It’s not a carrier, Navy! Flare! Now!
Power’s idle.
Twenty. Ten.
Hold it! Don’t push! Let her settle!
Speedbrake lever, left of the throttles. All the way back.
Speedbrakes.
Reversers, those little levers on the throttles. Pull them up and back.
Reversers.
Toes on the top of the pedals. Smooth. Keep it straight. Keep it straight…
Seattle Tower, Cascade 442 Heavy. We’re stopped on the runway. Two injured crew. We need medics at the door.
Cascade 442 Heavy, trucks are rolling. Nice flying, Commander Rourke.
Nice flying, Commander Rourke.
Welcome home, Navy.
Did we land?
We landed.
Navy. …Figures.
They’re both going to be okay. Both of them. Because of you.
Honey, I just held the gauze. That was you. Flying. The whole way down.
Me and a guy on the radio.
Told you. There’s always somebody.
You’ve got a forty-minute connection. If you run, you’ll make it.
Anchorage can wait.
Thank you, Commander.
Thank Gene Sutter. And the lady in 3C.
Navy.
Gene.
