Delta’s first Fourth Generation airplane to arrive on the property was the MD-11 (later called the BMD-11 when Boeing bought or merged with McDonnell-Douglas). In the early 1990s the MD-11 was the latest and greatest automation wonder of the world. As most pilots are inveterate gadgeteers, we were all anxious to fly it. Capt. Jerry Battenhouse was selected to manage the implementation into Delta’s operation. He was the king of gadgeteers and became totally immersed into the aircraft’s capabilities. The first problem was the landing gear. For the first several months, Delta serviced it wrong. It was a complex, triple-oleo, gas-filled arrangement that actually flew with a flat stage during this period. The airplane developed a reputation of one that no one could land smoothly. The (female) flight attendants developed a procedure just before landing that called for crossing the arms in preparation for the inevitable hard landing. Miraculously that all went away when the arrogant Delta Technical Operations people finally listened to McDonnell Douglas.
I had been flying captain on the B-737 for seven years and although bored, had little chance for advancement due to stagnant hiring. For various reasons I elected to go for MD-11 copilot. It was about the same money and I thought international flying might be fun. This downgrade, although frowned upon outside the U.S., was common for us. This was the most difficult type rating I ever earned. Since the extra automation was new, the necessary level of knowledge was not precisely defined. The fuel system was this airplane’s nemisis (every airplane has one). It was so complex, and the automation moved fuel from tank to tank so frequently, that it was said that the airplane wore the fuel out before it used it up! The single engine landing was a real challenge. I can only imagine an ab-initio Cessna pilot trying to make that work. I think all McDonnell-Douglas airplanes are hard to love. (So was the F-101) Somehow I managed to get through the rating and eventually appreciate the airplane. I loved the gadgets, but seven years earlier had participated in creating Delta’s automation philosophy. I hand flew the aircraft a lot.
The flight control system was unique. Even with the autopilot off, control wheel steering was in effect until the pilot pushed or pulled with more than two pounds of force. That was Lateral Stability and Augmentation System (LSAS). If one pulled harder, you got different control law and lots more authority. Gently flown, very precise altitude control was possible, even at maximum speed or 365 knots indicated. The experienced reader can see where this is going. The dinosaurs couldn’t get it. They would push and pull like they did on the DC-8 and go in and out of LSAS. Sometimes they would get little response, other times a lot. These guys formed a group that believed that it wasn’t possible to hand-fly the airplane, and told their copilots so. I remember a flight to Bangkok with a member of the cult. Bangkok Center had given us clearance to “keep the speed up,” and descend to 2000 ft., just as we crossed from the Laos border. (In the U.S. 250 knots is max below 10,000 ft.) A few minutes later we were at 2,000 ft. and 365 knots. Getting ready to slow down and land, I disconnected the autopilot. The dinosaur nearly had a cat. I was able to keep the altitude right on as we slowed to flap speed. We didn’t discuss the autoflight system any more during that rotation.
Fast forward two years and Jerry Battenhouse and I are preparing to depart London Gatwick airport. In the meantime Jerry has received a CAA violation for this exact departure procedure that we are planning to execute. His mistake was to penetrate the Heathrow airspace to the north of Gatwick. When departing to the east, the procedure calls for a left turn (toward Heathrow) and then heading back to the west in a corridor between the two airports. However, when a strong wind from the south is blowing, staying within the corridor is difficult, as the wind pushes you toward Heathrow.
Jerry: “OK, Don let’s have your departure briefing. Make it a good one, because we have the FAA riding in the jump seat. Ha, Ha.)”
The company-standard departure in those days was “WARTS.” That acronym stood for weather/wind, abnormal/abort procedures, runway considerations, terrain/transition altitude/taxi, standard instrument departure procedures (SID, now DP), special Jeppesen pages. Not a bad idea for even Bonanza pilots to review. Lots of the dinosaurs would just say, “WARTS, ha, ha,” and call that a briefing.
Don: “Well, Jerry, the weather’s good. I plan to hand-fly the departure. I will leave 15 degrees of flaps down and hold 210 knots until we finish the turn to the west.”
Jerry: “I don’t think that’s a good idea, you should use the automation and let the autopilot fly this difficult departure.”
Don: “OK, Jerry that’s fine, you’re the captain, I’ll be happy to do that.”
Jerry: “But it’s your leg and you can fly it however you like.”
Don: “OK, Jerry, I plan to hand-fly the departure. I will leave 15 degrees of flaps down and hold 210 knots until we finish the turn to the west.”
Jerry: “I don’t think that’s a good idea, you should use the automation and let the autopilot fly this difficult departure.”
Don: “OK, Jerry that’s fine, you’re the captain, I’ll be happy to do that.”
Jerry: “But it’s your leg and you can fly it however you like.”
Don: “OK, Jerry, I plan to hand-fly the departure. I will leave 15 degrees of flaps down and hold 210 knots until we finish the turn to the west.”
Jerry: Looks at the FAA guy in the jump seat and nods. To say OK if the kid screws this up we will both have a piece of him.
Don: Oh, S___, I’ve done it, now. If I use the autopilot, we will probably get a violation of airspace. If I don’t use it and make a mistake, I’m dead.
Don: “Gear up, Vnav. (at 1000 ft.) Flaps 15, speed 210. Three miles starting hard left turn, leveling off at 2500.” I could see on the electronic map where we should not transgress, and we made it, turning inside of that area.
Jerry: “_________.”
I know it’s not like, “There I was at 800 knots indicated with flak all around and two MiGs on my tail,” but it’s about as exciting as airline flying gets theses days. The Late Earl Wiener was instrumental in developing modern concepts of automation in the piloted cockpit. One of his aphorisms was, “If the automation is increasing your workload, turn it off.” In this case, it was not only increasing workload, it was not capable of the depth of logic required to complete the departure, even though the aircraft had that capability. I predict that we pilots will continue to have a job for some time to come.