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State Flag of California.

     Returning to my first visit of the States since joining SIA, on 23^rd October 1987 we intercepted Track R-465. Climbing to 37,000 feet, we accelerated our 747-312 to Mach 0.85 and, following the identical route of the clipper ships a hundred years ago, we beat our way to San Francisco.

     Arriving at our destination late in the afternoon, Pacific Coast Time, on a crystal clear day – I marveled at the California Coastline and the glistening cities spread out along the bay.  There’s something special regarding California sunlight; it brings out a startling richness and depth of colors found at no other location.

  Note the Golden Gate Bridge in the foreground and the Bay Bridge in the background.

     It was my turn to fly – “my leg.”  And as we approached 10,000 feet in a descent, I had already disconnected the auto throttle, which allowed me to pull all four throttles back to “Idle.”  Currently we were in a glide.  Keeping the autopilot engaged, I moved the NAV MODE selector switch from INS to HDG (Heading), allowing me to control our turns with the small Heading Knob.  Additionally - by selecting V/S (Vertical Speed) with the SPEED MODE selector switch – I then controlled the 747’s pitch, and therefore its speed, with the diminutive VERT SPEED WHEEL, using one finger.  I raised the 747’s nose slightly with this wheel – reducing our glide speed – in order to pass through 10,000 feet at 250 knots; complying with regulated airspace speed control.  During which we were being radar vectored by SFO Approach Control.

     As things were slowing down, it gave me a moment’s reflection: Striking with the speed of a bolt from the blue – once again it was 30^th October 1970, and I was sitting in a San Mateo Sheriff’s helicopter – snapping photos of sparkling-new Pan Am 747s parked at SFO.  Crushing my ragged-assed, helicopter pilot’s heart; being certain I’d never get a crack at such a beautiful flying machine.

     And at present here I am almost 17 years later – with my grubby, sweaty, helicopter pilot’s hands controlling a bigger, better version of the 747 – about to touch down at SFO.

     Honestly, dear reader, is this nuts or what?

San Francisco International (SFO).  Note its four runways.

Note Runways 28 Left and 28 Right.  We were assigned 28 Right.

     SFO Approach cleared us for the visual “Quiet Bridge Approach,” which took us to the high span of the San Mateo Bridge that crosses San Francisco Bay.  At that point I intercepted the ILS for Runway Two Eight Right (280°/100° magnetic, NW/SE), and configured the 747 for landing.  As we approached the runway, because we were heavier and faster, our 747 overtook a US Airways 737 who was flying the visual “Tipp Toe Approach” to Runway Two Eight Left.

     Actually, dear reader, I’d love to meet the character that dreams up the names for these various approaches.  He, or she, has got to be a lot of fun when inebriated.

     For several long, heart stopping seconds we flew in wingtip-to-wingtip formation; the pair of us barreling towards the ground for our respective parallel runways.  At last I pulled away from US Air – winning the race by touching down first.  Since I had a cold, dry headwind from the Pacific, it was one of my better, smoother landings.

     And upon clearing the runway and contacting Ground Control, we received our taxi instructions, which frankly blew me away.  I was cleared to Gate 33 at Concourse B.

     Oh yes, dear reader, this was the same Concourse where I photographed the half-dozen, new Pan Am 747s in 1970, while full of envy, wishing to hell there was some way I could get hired at Pan Am, and fly one of these beauties.  

     Ironically, in approximately four years (1991) Pan Am would be gone to that “Great Bankrupt Hangar in the Sky.”  As for me, I’d still be flying the 747 long after Pan Am bit the dust.  Go figure.

SFO can get congested on the ground.  Here’s a B-747 about to gobble-up a Cessna 172.

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