Tag Archives: transport

Boeing’s 747 is still the queen of the skies for me

It is very nice to be back on a Boeing 747, still very much the Queen of the Skies. It seems incredible that it is just over 40 years since I first saw one; I was at Crystal Palace watching the motor racing and, used as we were to the endless procession of Boeing 707s and Douglas DC8s, with the occasional VC10 or something else turning in for the run into Heathrow when I looked up to see my first 747 (I’ve never liked the term Jumbo) as one of Pan-Am’s finest swung in. It looked huge compared to all of the others, even if it was barely visible on the photo that I took.

At that time I had yet to fly and, if you ignore a 30 or so feet zoom over an hedge and into a cabbage field when I was knocked off my motor bike, it would be 16 years before a BA 757 whisked me to Aberdeen one evening with one of her sisters bringing me back from Edinburgh a few days later. Whilst a long haul trip and the chance to fly on a 747 was conspicuous by its absence the following years saw me become a Shuttle Warrior as I nipped back and forth to Edinburgh, Glasgow and Belfast so often that I got onto first name terms with some of the cabin crew.

That friendship and my love of the 747 were to be savagely disrupted in the space of less than three weeks starting late 1988 when firstly we saw that memorable image of the nose section of Pan-Am’s Clipper Maid of the Seas in a border’s field. The night she went down I had seen a Pan-Am 747 pass me when it took off from Heathrow as I loaded my bag into my car in the long stay car park. Whether it was flight 103 or one of her sisters I don’t know, but the majesty of the one I saw roar past me bore sharp contrast to the one that lay broken a few hundred miles north.

Around that time I had flown home from Edinburgh on G-OBME, one of British Midland’s new 737-400’s. Amongst the crew Ali and Barbara and their colleagues looked after us well on the short hop down to London and, once again, I made my way out to the long stay car park and headed down the M4 for home. Then came the news of an aircraft having come down on the M1 motorway trying to get into East Midlands airport after engine problems. That aircraft was G-OBME, and Ali and Barbara were amongst the crew. It was a black month.

My first flight on a 747 came in 1994, Gatwick to Newark with Continental and then came something of a flurry, mostly with Virgin Atlantic to California and Florida and the initial impression of them as the Queen of the Skies has been affirmed by experience. Over the years I flown down the back (in the last row you can actually see the fuselage warp during turbulence), right at the very front where you are further forward than the pilots and on the upstairs deck. They are a great aircraft, and about the fastest thing that you can fly on these days after the demise of Concorde, the erstwhile Goddess of the Skies.

So here I am again on one of Seattle’s finest, this one being one of Sir Richard’s fleet of 400 series models for another Atlantic crossing and, as someone of my generation who marvelled at Thunderbirds, there is a pleasure at riding once more aboard an aeroplane named Lady Penelope, the third or fourth time she has swept me over the pond.

You can keep your A380s, so ugly and bloated; the 747 has a much more graceful line and will always be one I carry torch for.

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No more RingGo at Swindon! FGW you are wrong

I hear that First Great Western and APCOA are ceasing the RingGo service at Swindon (and other) station car parks any day now.

This is a stupid move and I am supporting the campaign to have the decision reversed. If you are with me click on this link to make your protest heard.

Car park machines are a nightmare at somewhere like a railway station. You either need a mountain of change or, if they have a credit card operated one, the patience of a saint as they rarely work. RingGo makes life easy with a simple phone call and, when its a business trip, I can log on later and get a VAT receipt.

All stress free and one of the main reasons why I have started to use the train much more over the last year or so. I want my RingGo back!

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the joys of motoring #26

Jennifer Jaguar sailed through her MoT test today. Lately she has been looked after by a family business down in Portsmouth where I’m working a lot, and it’s nice to know that all the TLC has been paying off. The old girl went through the 100,000 miles barrier last month, although I’ve only contributed a little under half that.

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Empire of the Clouds – Book Review

I’ve really enjoyed this book. I’m about 10 years younger than the author, but remember most of the aircraft he describes very well and many of the test pilots were my heros too.

One or two review have criticised the author’s style, but I found that his conversation way of writing contributed a lot to the pleasure I’ve had over the last couple of days as I’ve avidly read it. Altogether a wonderful tale of an era when aircraft were going through radical change. Yes, there were mistakes and incompetence and our industry did suffer from political weathercocking, but it was a time that produced some spectacular and beautiful aircraft, some of which were truly world beaters.

Empire of the Clouds: When Britain’s Aircraft Ruled the World

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What really goes on in the cockpit(?)

The cockpit of a modern airliner is a pretty cramped place. 32000 feet above Ireland Captain Jason Wirth and First Officer Barbara Lopez sat surrounded by controls and instrument panels as they occupied, respectively, the left and right hand seats. In their crisp white shirts and aviator shades they appeared model professionals monitoring progress while the flight computers took their Boeing 777 from Heathrow to Chicago. Behind them, separated by the obligatory post 9/11 secure door, nearly 300 passengers and crew had settled in over the hour or so that had passed since take off.
Looking through his side window Wirth remarked “Irish coast coming up. It’s about time”. Lopez peered at the weather radar on one of the glass screens before her, its scanner searching the skies for up to 100 miles ahead. She pointed to a brightly coloured patch on the screen. “That looks rough”. Pressing the transmit button she spoke again, her voice calm and clear; “Oceanic control, Amair 492”.
“Amair 492, Oceanic control. Pass message” came the crisp response.
“Amair 492, with you abeam Shannon westbound at flight level 32, anyone reporting chop at this level?” Lopez asked.
“Stand by” then, after a short break “Amair 492, Delta 194 is about 20 minutes ahead of you reporting light to medium chop at level 36. I have no-one at your level”
“Is that what we have on the radar?” asked Wirth. “Sure is” responded Lopez. “OK, ask for change of course and height” nodded Wirth.
Pressing her transmit button again, Lopez spoke “Oceanic, Amair 492. Thanks for the update. Requesting flight level 36 and course change 277”.
“Amair 492, Oceanic. Cleared to climb, flight level 36 and 277”
“Amair 492, three six and two seven seven. Good day.” replied Lopez. She reached across and entered the new data into the flight computer. As the messages passed through the giant aircraft’s systems the GE turbines and ailerons responded, the Boeing’s nose rising and moving slightly right at their command.
“How long? asked Wirth. “17 minutes” replied Lopez.
This time it was Wirth who pressed the transmit button. Back in the cabin Purser Elaine Dickenson picked the phone off the wall as the tone sounded. She spoke a single word “Purser”. “Captain speaking” Wirth told her, “expect light chop in 17 minutes; you’re cleared to serve the meals”

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Why can’t we get airport design right in the UK?

As someone who has been in customer service for over 45 years I get puzzled by the failure to do some simple things that could make a huge difference. I’ve just travelled through Heathrow’s Terminal 3, but these remarks aren’t confined to that building, more to what I see as a series of blindingly obvious failures. Continue reading

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The tale of That Consultant Bloke – how I got the tag

People keep asking, so a short video clip telling a little of the background to the That Consultant Bloke name tag. Filmed on the laptop rather that my Flip cam. Click on the link below to check it out on YouTube.

The tale of That Consultant Bloke – how I got the tag: The tale of That Consultant Bloke

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what price 15 feet of tarmac?

Pretty much every Saturday morning it is my pleasure to treat the Wokingham Wonder to a run out so that I can buy her a late breakfast and give her the chance to spend her pension.

We don’t go quite as far afield as we used to, but we have a selection of decent city or town centres all no more than 45 to 50 miles from home and that provide a nice run through the Cotswolds, the Mendips or over the Marlborough Downs. So a nice relaxed drive will see us parking up at our destination of choice about an hour after I’ve fired up Jennifer Jaguar on the driveway at home.

Now I say a nice relaxed drive, and that is what I aim at. On the dual carriageway I can lock down cruise control at 70 mph (indicated, actually about 67.5) and drive for much of the distance with the occasional touch  of the thumb on the Resume button to get us out and back into the cruise.

But every Saturday for the last 5 weeks we’ve passed at least one accident site on the way home (one black Saturday there were three in the space of 20 miles). Flashing lights, clumps of people standing round with mobile phones pressed to their ears, emergency services in attendance and bits of car and assorted fluids to avoid.

Amongst the common denominators are that these accidents have all been at either where a dual carriageway narrows to single, or at an exit or entrance slip road (or ramp for my US readers) and that they have all been the result of someone desperate to shove their way in or out of the traffic.

So what price are these people paying for that extra 15 feet of tarmac that they were so desperate to occupy? Not only has someone spoiled their own day out they have ruined someone else’s and, if the traffic tailback gets heavy, inconvenienced many others. And then there are longer term consequences for all parties in terms of loss of transport, cost and so on (as well as for all of us in the rising cost of our insurance cover).

Does it really matter that much to overtake just one more car before the exit? Can you not just slow and lose a couple of seconds to make sure that you join the traffic flow safely?

Trading a bit of paint and a bit of panel damage seems to me to be a pretty stupid value to put on a short piece of highway, but in one accident site we passed yesterday someone was so desperate for a short stretch of Mr McAdam’s finest that they traded their life.

So I’ll ask again; what price 15 feet of tarmac?


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FM and procurement – FM World

Nick Martindale writes on current issues in the 20 May 2010 issue of FM World magazine and I’m amongst those he interviewed for this article. Share your thoughts by commenting on this blog or via LinkedIn.

FM and procurement – FM World.

via FM and procurement – FM World.

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Toyota Troubles

I have been very distressed by the ongoing tales of Toyota troubles. Not that I have any favour for the make, although I have rented many Toyotas in the US, as well as a Lexus. They’re OK cars, but so are lots of others. And, whilst I feel for the victims or their families, neither is their plight the source of my woe.

No, my distress has been in the apparent lack of basic skills being demonstrated. As I understand it there are two problems alleged to be at the heart of the Toyota throttle (gas/accelerator) pedal troubles. One is that the floor mat interferes with the pedal and the other is that the pedal linkage may stick.

Now over the (nearly 40) years that I’ve been driving various cars, trucks and goodness knows what else in nine countries across two continents I’ve had the floor mat problem so often I couldn’t possibly count them. It was a persistent problem on a DAF LF 7.5 tonne truck I drove regularly a couple of years back. I’d take my foot off the power and it wouldn’t slow as expected. The problem wasn’t DAF’s fault either. In the end I cured it by taking out the extra slip mat the regular driver had added, but you’ll note here that I am reporting multiple incidents with one vehicle, one that’s a fair but bigger that the average Toyota, and one I was driving in central London traffic, yet I’m still here to write about it. I didn’t have or cause an accident and I’m not trying to sue anyone.

I’ve also had the stuck pedal linkage problem a few times over the years, more so in my younger days when I was driving cars that were fugitives from the wrecker’s yard but, again, I’m still here to tell my tale. Why? Am I some sort of superman?

No. At best I’m just a driver with a bit of common sense and a strong sense of self preservation. Give me a problem in a car and all I want is a little bit of time to sort it out before I hit something, and that is often just a matter of seconds. First principles: I check my car before I drive it. One of those checks is to make sure that my floor mat is OK. Maybe not obvious, but if it gets in the way of the pedals I have a problem, and I’d rather fix a problem before I have one, hence getting rid of the extra mat in the DAF once I’d recognised that the damn thing would not stay put.

Second principles: If I don’t get the expected result when I take my foot off the gas, or I seem to be going faster than I think that I should be, then I do two things at the same time. One is to keep driving the car; look where I’m going and try not to drive into anything. At the same time I dig both heels into the floor mat and jerk my feet back. If my problem is the mat fouling the pedal this will fix it so I can pull over, stop and sort it out properly. (Another action is to hit Cancel on the cruise control). If that doesn’t work, I stick the toe of my shoe behind the pedal and pull it back. If my problem is anywhere in the foot well then that will work and, again, I pull over and stop where it is safe to do so, and either fix it or call for help.

Third principles: If that doesn’t work either then, checking around me for other vehicles, I’ll get the brakes on hard (a secondary problem with the errant floor mat is that it rucks up behind the brake pedal and restricts how far I can push it down – but if I’ve pulled the mat clear I should be fine). I’ll use both feet on the brake pedal if I have to, and I’ll put the transmission in neutral to stop the engine driving the wheels. I don’t switch the ignition off until I stop as I’ll lose my power steering and brakes (although if I’m going to hit something solid, switching off at the last second is a good idea).

Now I could have done all of the above faster than I could have made a call on my cell phone, and I would be pretty sure that I would have the vehicle stopped without too much danger to anyone else on the road, myself and any passengers.

If all of the above had failed, and I can’t see why it should, but if it had there is still the controlled crash option: I’d drive into the scenery or barrier at a shallow angle, aim for something soft, anything that’s possible. Many years ago I listened to one of the great Swedish rally drivers being interviewed. This was in an era when a rally car was the same as you or I could buy, but tuned up and with a roll cage and being driven through the forests and ice and snow or whatever at full bore and before the days of pace notes. Asked what went through his mind when approaching a blind crest in the forest at 100+mph he paused, and then he said “well, the road must go somewhere”. His premise was that there was always something that you could do to avoid an accident, but if you went off  you kept trying to get back on until you succeeded or hit something, but most times you’d work it out and avoid the accident.

Over the years I’ve had far worse things happen than a sticky throttle. I’ve four times had the bonnet (hood) come unlatched and rise up blocking my forward vision, once at 70mph on the M2 in Kent, at over 90 on the autobahn in Germany, on the way into DC from Dulles airport and, more recently, at about 50 on the old Roman road to Newbury.  Each time I got stopped with no damage to myself or anyone else.

Yes, these things get the pulse rate up a bit, but the point is that there is always something that I can do, and I’d rather be trying than dying. Stay calm, don’t panic and think about what you’re doing.

There’s an old adage that the most dangerous part in a car is the nut behind the wheel. My distress on these matters is that there seem to be far too many people out there on the road trying to kill me as it is. It’s bad enough that there are so many people driving cars who have all the spatial awareness of a stuffed wombat, but to know that there are also people riding around out there who may not even know how to stop the vehicle is just plain scary.

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