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Flag of France

     Early the next morning, 28th August 1987, as we assembled in the lobby of our hotel to check out, John materialized with a case of the green-shakes. 

     A-hah, dear reader, those fucking mussels were polluted!

     Today our schedule called for something out of the ordinary:  First we had to deadhead (fly as passengers) on an Air France flight to Orly Field, in Paris.  This wasn’t a regular stop for SIA; they always used Charles de Gaulle Airport at Paris.  Waiting for us at Orly was an SIA 747-Combi (half passenger/half freighter) that we were to then operate to Dubai, in the UAE.

Boeing 747-300-Combi

     I was really sorry for John, dear reader.  The poor guy spent the entire day either in the men’s room or the aircraft‘s blue-room.  He told me that whatever didn’t like him was coming out both ends!

     We deadheaded on a spanking, brand new Airbus A320, a short to medium range, narrow-bodied, twin-engine jetliner capable of carrying over 200 passengers.  I had heard of its revolutionary new cockpit layout, so when the Air France Captain offered the cockpit to us; I jumped at the chance to ride there.  The rest of my crew elected to remain in first class, especially John, since he was close to the restroom.

     What an eye-opener, dear reader!  All of the A320‘s “iron-analog“ instruments were replaced by computer monitors; making it a “glass cockpit.“  But there were other important features adding to the crew’s efficiency and comfort.        

     Let’s start with Boeing’s “Gestapo“ chair:

     I’ve labeled it so, dear reader, because after five minutes in that chair I’m ready to sign the confession!

     The backrest is no problem, however the seat cushion is a nightmare caused by the U-shaped cut at its front and middle.  This is so one can pull the metal shaft, attached to the control wheel, all the way back into this slot. 

     Which always struck me as a nutty-design, dear reader.  For if one ever pulled the control wheel that far back in flight – it would indicate only one thing – one has totally lost all control of the aircraft!

     Due to this U-shaped cut in the seat, the cushion ultimately breaks down at the inside edges.  Set an empty bucket on the floor upright – then sit on it – that’s exactly what this seat cushion felt like. 

     Now sit on it for nine to twelve hours.  Get the picture, dear reader?

     Some were so bad, I was forced to “steal“ two business class pillows from the passengers.  Stuffing said pillows inside this U-shaped hole, allowed “me“ battered bum to survive a long flight!

     Then there were the armrests, made out of a hard plastic, which the pressurization would dry out and crack the skin on my elbows, causing them to bleed!  Why couldn’t Boeing line the armrests with the same synthetic wool they used on the rest of the seat?

     Continuing my bitching, we come to my favorite:  The “Clipper Ship“ control wheel.  On average, we used the control wheel for scarcely five minutes after take off, and usually eleven minutes at the end of the flight, right before landing. In between these two events, the flight was operated by the autopilot.

     During those many, many hours - between take off and landing while on autopilot – the control wheel was my worst enemy, blocking my view of the instrument panel, and taking up space I could really use to stretch out in.  I was forever bumping it every time I hauled out a new chart, adjusted something on the instrument panel, or attempted to eat off a tray balanced on a pillow on my lap.

Me attempting to keep cool in the 747 cockpit. Note the wadded up newspaper.

     And then there was the problem with the sun.  Whenever one operates between 20,000 to 40,000 feet, in that thin atmosphere, the sun’s rays spill inside the cockpit akin to laser beams, enveloping a pilot’s body in a truly hot blanket.  To combat this, Boeing supplied us with a Polaroid sun visor, roughly the size of a car’s visor.  It gave one a bit of shade for the eyes, while the rest of one’s body baked.  In desperation, we pilots dumped the puny visor and wadded up The Straits Times - totally blanking out the side windows with newspaper – anything to obtain shade on our bodies.

     So how did Airbus handle these problems, dear reader?

     First of all, they threw away the “Clipper Ship“ wheel – replacing it with side sticks.  These were short control sticks – mounted on each side of the cockpit – offering the pilots fingertip-control of the aircraft, opening up plenty of leg room space – plus unrestricted observation of the instrument panel – with nothing to bump against, and no horseshoe-shaped hole having to be cut in the seat cushion. 

     Plus they had designed an actual desktop – sliding out from underneath the instrument panel – that could be tilted to hold all of the maps and approach plates.  No more last minute rummaging in ones‘ flight case for that all important chart.  It could also be locked in a level position to hold our food trays.

     This was an issue in the Boeing cockpit, for the flight attendant had to bring a pillow, along with our food tray.  Resting the pillow on our laps, then the tray on top of it, gave us the proper elevation, except it forced us to balance the tray and fight for space with the control wheel, as we attempted to eat.  Similar to a juggling clown at the circus, when we hit rough air!

     What about the problem with the sun, dear reader?

     The French didn’t use wadded up newspaper on their A320, instead they employed space-age, one-way gold blinds – which pulled down and fit the window – totally blocking out the sun’s rays.  They shaded the pilot’s body, while allowing the pilot to still look outside – like a one-way mirror - for air traffic.

     This is how a jetliner‘s cockpit should be constructed!

     Why Boeing couldn’t implement these innovations is beyond me, dear reader.  Years in the future Delta Airlines would eventually dump Boeing in favor of Airbus.  I wonder if complaining Delta pilots had anything to do with this?

If you want to throw a real party – the Airbus cockpit, with all its extra room, is just the ticket.

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