SOPs

A couple months ago I was promoted to the position of Assistant Chief Pilot (unlike Assistant TO the Chief Pilot, so take that Dwight).  Our previous Chief Pilot retired, which left that opening free to fill.  There were two of us considered for the job, one of our King Air pilots and myself.  Ultimately the King Air pilot was chosen, as he is better suited to the position, but in recognizing that we both brought different but valuable skills to the position (his personality is more suited to the administrative role of it, while I bring significantly more low level survey experience and experience on 2 of 3 of our aircraft types), they decided to create an Assistant Chief Pilot position for me as well.  So as it works out I am responsible for all training and writing/rewriting of manuals applicable to the Navajo and C-206, while he will handle all that for the King Air.

So I've been recently assigned my first duty as Assistant Chief Pilot - to complete the writing of the SOPs (Standard Operating Procedures) for the Navajo.  SOPs lay out, in excruciating detail, the responsibilities and procedures of each crew member while operating an aircraft in a multi-crew environment.  Such things as standard terminology and standard cockpit calls to be made for each phase of flight, to what areas of the cockpit are the primary responsibility of each crew member, to how and when to complete each checklist, and most importantly how to report and respond to an emergency and in a coordinated and efficient fashion.

In actual fact I have very little multi-crew experience, but I think there's enough already written that I can get the feel for how it should be written and fill in the blank sections from there.  Not to mention that is one skill-set that our new Chief Pilot brings to the table, so of course I have him as a resource/oversight.  This is all of course after I finish formatting the existing document.  Our old Chief Pilot who had started writing the SOPs, was a fantastic survey pilot, a true gentleman, and fully qualified to write the SOPs, but his computer skills leave a bit to be desired.  I have a lot of formatting to do.  Think spaces instead of proper indentations - everywhere.  Oh well, it should keep me busy on the slow days off under bad weather.

I've also heard I may be hopping back into the 206 for a couple weeks to fill in for the usual pilot, who will be taking vacation.  It'll be kind of fun to hop back into the old girl again (who has had a beautiful new paint job) and get reacquainted for a short while.  Back in the spring I did a short repositioning flight to take her up to Muskoka from Toronto, and I was surprised to find that I have almost entirely forgotten the touch to land her!  It was one ugly bounce, and the winds weren't even strong.

I'll be glad to get back in and be able to brush off the rust enough to walk away again without having to look around to see if anyone saw THAT one.  Every pilot knows that feeling.

Frat House

"I feel like I'm in a Frat house" says our replacement processor as he walks up to our crew-house apartment from his hotel across the street.  I'm standing in flip-flops, beer in hand, grilling steaks outside our door on the little portable BBQ we bought.  He has just recently arrived in town to replace our current processor who is rotating out on vacation in the next couple days.  Our shirtless, mullet-sporting neighbour sits on his porch pumping out rock music.  I laugh because the statement is true, it pretty much is a frat-house.  Since this is a longer several month project, the office arranged to rent us (the field crew) an apartment.  As a result of living together there's much goofing around and bachelor pad frat-housery that occurs when we're not working, especially when the two of us are both around the same age and get along well.

Apartments are cheaper for the company than hotels for long-term jobs, but they're also kind of nice for us as well.  Hotels and restaurant food get pretty old after a few weeks, never-mind the whole summer.  Its kind of nice to have a home away from home.

Our apartment is located on the floor above a real estate office and hair salon.  Its a pretty good sized unit, but wins no Martha Steward awards.  I suppose we can't be picky in a small town.  In short its a five-bedroom slum-house.  One of the bedrooms is so stained and had such a musty smell we refuse to go in there and just use it for storage.  It quickly earned the nickname "murder room", because the smell and carpet stains looked like there very well could have been a grisly murder take place.  The 4th bedroom we've converted into a little office, while the remaining 3 serve as actual bedrooms.  The rest of the apartment is dated but sufficient.  In the hallway a tiny 2-stroke pocket bike sits in pieces - a result of an impulsive purchase that was a heck of a lot of fun, but only lasted 2 days before we broke it.  We're in the process of repairing it, but at the moment lack the tools, expertise, and initiative to tackle it any further than disassembling it into the state that it is in now.

Aside from being away from my girl for long periods, life is here is pretty good.  I could stay here all summer pretty happily if she was here with me.  The weather stays relatively warm, there's lots of world-class hiking to do on our days off, and I've bought a membership to the local gym for a price that's laughably affordable.  The flying schedule is undemanding to say the least as there is fog off-shore every morning, so most days we don't manage to get airborne until late-afternoon and fly until early evening.