Back to the grind

My alarm goes of, it's o-dark hundred and still in that transitional period during the night where it goes from being very late in the night to ridiculously early in the morning. I am by no means an airline pilot living in hotels but when the alarm goes off at these silly times it takes me a few moments to get my bearings and realise what's happening.

Up, shower, dress, raid the fridge for breakfast and get assaulted by the smell of various meats being kept from yesterday. The roads are emptier than usual this morning, in fact I'm certain the only other cars I see are airport workers or the passengers. As I pull into the staff car park though it's business as usual, we're all back to work.

I arrive in the office to see which of my colleagues have drawn the short straw and are working this morning. Some would prefer to be at home but I don't mind. My three flights for this morning are spread across the shift and should go fine, should being the operative word.

As I walk across the ramp, it's still littered with aircraft that have been sitting over the holiday but the eerie silence is long gone as trucks buzz around the apron and ground power units hum in the dark. I make it to my first aircraft and see loading is going well, the fueller is finishing up and the crew are on board prepping the aircraft. Perhaps the morning shift will actually go well. I go and greet the crew, and find them in a surprisingly cheery mood. I say surprisingly, not because I stereotype them all to be grumpy, but suspected they might have been unhappy at spending the holiday down route away from family. However, they assure me they had a wonderful day though in the hotel.

Everything goes smoothly and I even have time to stand around and have a chat with the crew over coffee. Before long, it's fully boarded, I collect my various bits of magical paperwork complete with the captain's autograph and then get cornered by the cabin crew when trying to exit, wanting to know if I'll look after them again when they pass through next week. I'm not sure if that means they like me or hate me so much as to want to avoid me dispatching them? Ah the wonders.

Checks complete, headset on and ready to kick the tyres, bad news comes over the headset. ATC has said there is a slot time of 50 minutes from now. Bad news indeed, for that messes up my morning. However, no sooner have the crew finished telling me about the slot than it is cancelled. Someone is toying with me this morning! The beacon light goes on, I signal the tug driver and we're off. We're the first aircraft movement of the day.

I arrive at flight number 2 and notice my first aircraft blowing the dust and tumbleweed off the runway as it jets off into the dark sky. My next flight crew have definitely drawn short straws today, as they are having a line check by a training captain. He seems almost as apathetic as they do about it. I wonder what soul in the training department decided to schedule it for today. I quickly tell them what they need to know and disappear, the last thing they will want is me hassling them.

The cabin crew on this flight I know, for they are based here and I see them on a regular basis so it's good to get caught up with each other. I can also rely on them to be ready when they should be, and so smooth as clockwork as they finish their security checks I have the first passengers arriving at the aircraft door to board. When it works as well as this you can almost guarantee the flight will be ready to depart early, and if they're lucky enough it will carry through out the day and they can get home earlier. It's a long shot in this business, but worth a try. I ruin their happiness though by explaining every seat will be full.

The passengers start flooding out of the terminal towards the aircraft and I assume my position under the wing tip playing the Shepard again, trying to heard people out around the wing. I notice that when I tell people to walk out around the wing edge they look up at it, as if they don't believe me there is actually a wing there or maybe they have concerns it's going to fall off. I do feel slightly silly standing under the likes of an A330 wing making them walk the half mile de-tour around the edge of it, especially since it's 20-30ft off the ground, but rules are rules and I obey them to keep my boss happy and my job safe.

As the last of the passengers turn up, I signal to the ramp guys to remove the back steps and close up the holds. With any luck, that's all the passengers through the gate and boarding the aircraft, with 20 minutes to go. A few seconds later I get word from the gate agent, all 180 passengers are accounted for, excellent.

I join the back of the queue of passengers going up the steps, and several decades later it make it to the flight deck. I look intently at both crew members but can't see a bead of sweat on their foreheads yet, so things must be going ok. I collect the paperwork and make a quick escape before they ask me something I don't know. I push it back, a few minutes early and give a wave to the crew showing them they are clear to move off.

My last flight is slightly different, it's purely cargo travelling on it. Someone else has already taken care of the load plan and loading of the cargo for me, so I have the easy task of finalising the paperwork and closing it up for departure. 5 minutes later, it's wheels start rolling backwards too. I enjoy doing cargo flights, it can be more challenging and satisfying dispatching them instead of passenger flights, plus the cargo always turns up on time unlike passengers.

My 3 flights are away and looking at my watch I'm guessing most people still haven't even got out of bed yet. I walk back to the office, 324 are on their way to sunnier climates and 14 tonnes of freight, maybe even delayed Christmas presents, are on their way to be scattered across the continent. I'm content, and now in need of another breakfast!