CHAPTER 7

                                      The Mediterranean Sea – 39,000 Feet

                                                 Tuesday, 22nd July, 1980 

 

 

     On this day my restless, impatient spirit at last found a home.  I was in the cockpit (right seat) of a SAUDIA Boeing 707-368C that was skirting the south coast of Spain at 39,000 feet.

     It was one of those rare, crystal clear days without a cloud in the sky – the visibility literally breathtaking.  So much so – that from my front row perch – I was able to look straight down at the Plaza de Toros in the heart of Màlaga.  The bullring’s perfect circle of roof tiles glinting in the sun – contrasting neatly against a jumble of buildings. 

     Malaga, Spain.

     Previously as a teenager - locked away in my high school’s library during lunch hours – I had seen photos of it and read about it.  Remembering the first bullfight had taken place there in 1876.

     Looking up and out my front windshield, down the south coast of Spain towards the west, I discovered the Columnas de Hércules (Pillars of Hercules) where the Iberian Peninsula almost touches the north coast of Africa; marking the Strait of Gibraltar.

     And of course, standing alone in all its nobility and historical importance, I encountered the Rock of Gibraltar.

     It stood on a limestone promontory at the extreme southern tip of Spain - casting a long shadow in the late afternoon sun.

     I swear to Christ, dear reader, a chill travelled up my spine.  This is what I had struggled and fought for all those years as a ragged-assed pilot building flight time and ratings; to experience this type of flight.  I’m finally “home.”

     Perhaps this is also what caused the following song and lyrics to rattle around in my grey-matter during this flight:

Out on runway number nine
Big seven o seven set to go
Well I'm stuck here on the grass
Where the pavement never grows
Now the liquor tasted good
And the women all were fast
There she goes my friend
She'll be rolling down at last

Hear the mighty engines roar
See the silver wing on high
She's away and westward bound
Far above the clouds she'll fly
Where the mornin' rain don't fall
And the sun always shines
She'll be flying over my home
In about three hours’ time

Gordon Lightfoot, “Early Morning Rain”

     In the late ‘70s SAUDIA snapped up the last six 707-368Cs to come off Boeing’s production line before it was shut down.  And TWA (Trans World Airlines) maintenance - under contract to SAUDIA - had kept them in factory-new condition. 

     This was the first four-engined jet airliner I’d ever flown, dear reader.  Wake me up when this dream is over!

     SAUDIA had them configured for 147 passengers (12 first class/ 135 coach) with a four-seat, privately-partitioned first class lounge.  This version of the 707 was powered by four Pratt & Whitney JT3D-7 turbofan jet engines, producing 19,000 lbs. of thrust each; propelling the 707 to a service ceiling of 42,000 feet, a range of over 4,000 miles, at a max takeoff weight of 333,600 lbs.  Normally we’d climb out at a speed of Mach 0.80 and cruise at Mach 0.82 (long range cruise of 555 mph).

     Today I was operating a flight from Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, to Tripoli in Libya – thence on to Casablanca in Morocco.  Our first leg took us a flight time of 5:24, and our second leg to Casablanca was scheduled for 3:12.  However, while on the ground at Tripoli, our SELCAL went off (an annoying amber light and chime) informing us that Jeddah Dispatch was attempting to call us on one of our HF Radios.  Upon responding, we were advised that the Algerian Government was in a political spat with the Saudis – denying us use of their airspace.  Therefore we had to re-route further north and make use of Spanish airspace to reach Moroccan airspace; increasing our flight time to five hours for this detour.

     Our route, Jeddah to Casablanca, with the detour.

     Despite my British Captain grumbling at Arab stupidity, dear reader, I personally didn’t mind making this “sightseeing detour” to Spain.  Hell...I couldn’t believe my luck!

     Formerly, I had arrived at Jeddah in the middle of spring, 1980, and thoroughly enjoyed being immersed in a four-week ground school on the 707 at SAUDIA’s brand new training facility.

     SAUDIA’s new training facility built by a German company.

     The classrooms, instructors, teaching aids and canteen were top drawer.  SAUDIA prided itself in not being a “poor airline,” and they backed this up by dumping a ton of money on this training facility.  None of the major airlines back in the States had anything to compare with it.

     Thanks to those long hours I had spent with Val on my B-727 cardboard mock-up – learning Boeing systems logic – I sailed through this ground school; getting top marks on all the exams for each complex system.

     After that, I was off to Kansas City, again, to do a week’s differences course – preparing me for the TWA B-707 instrument flight simulator. 

     TWA’s Training Center in Kansas City, Missouri.

     The first night I crawled into the TWA simulator – I answered an extremely important, nagging question:  Can I really handle a four-engine jet airliner? 

     Boeing 707 Simulator.

      The top row are 707 Throttles, the bottom row are Start Levers.

     To my surprise, I ascertained I could, and at the end of the instrument flight simulator course, my TWA instructor signed me off.

     Then the instructor took me out to an auxiliary airfield that TWA used, and gave me “bounces” in an actual TWA B-707. 

     Hump me blind, dear reader, I had a 707 all to myself!  Never in my wildest dreams!

     In spite of my enjoying landings and take offs in the “real thing” – there was a downside.  The States’ economy was in the shitter, again, prompting TWA to get rid of their aging 707s.  Even so, nobody had any money to buy them – causing TWA to carve up these marvelous, legendary aircraft for scrap!  I saw proud 707s, with TWA logos, sitting around out there with their tails and wings literally whacked off.

     The sight of which made me both sick and angry, dear reader.  Only in America do we waste our very best.

      The “bone yard,” where all of TWA’s aircraft would eventually end up.

     During my first week in Kansas City - as I walked from my hotel in the middle of the night to the TWA Training Facility - hookers would roll by in Cadillac’s and Lincolns; offering me “quickies” in the backseats.  On the second week the same hookers rolled by, again offering me their wares, but in Ford Pintos and Volkswagens.  That was my first clue the U.S. economy was in serious trouble.

     After successfully finishing TWA’s training course – it was back to Jeddah – whereupon I did another “differences course,” followed by “bounces” in a SAUDIA B-707.  Now I was ready for “Line Training.”

     Once again I lucked-out; being assigned to Brian Saunders as my Line Training Captain.  He was a “Brit,” stockily built from years of rugby, in his early forties, with handsomely chiseled features, sandy hair and blue eyes.  He also possessed tons of flying experience in Europe, the Middle East and Africa, from stints with the RAF and several Middle Eastern airlines.  Being a “lady killer,” along with a wicked sense of humor, I couldn’t have asked for a better instructor.

      The man really knew his shit, dear reader.  Not just about flying out here – but more importantly – surviving out here.  This isn’t Kansas anymore, Dorothy. 

      SAUDIA’s routes for the B-707.

     I spent six weeks with Brian, learning how to fly all over the Middle East and North Africa.

The view out my side window of North Africa and the Mediterranean Sea at 39,000 feet.

     God...what an eye opener, dear reader!  And, as for the pay, no more “probation chump change.” From the get-go I was making between $4,000 to $5,000 per month; in the good old days when the dollar was worth something. Plus I was paid on the lunar calendar; resulting in 13 pay checks per year instead of 12. Not to mention free luxury housing, medical and dental; plus other perks.  Bottom line – screw the U.S. airlines!

     

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