Living the Dream Part 3
Heading Offshore
It’s still dark outside and I’ve already worked up a sweat. We’ve been busy for almost two hours and have not yet made it to the helicopter for our scheduled flight.
My fellow pilot and I have completed an extensive systems check, and we are confident that our Sikorsky S-92 is up to the task of taking us and our unsuspecting passengers more than 200 miles offshore into the Gulf of Mexico and safely back again.
Our flight plans have been filed, all paperwork reviewed, signatures placed in all the appropriate places, weather checked and double-checked, and final “pitstops” made. Our passengers are being prepared for flight in another part of the sprawling flight operations complex. We’re almost ready to go!
The S-92, as a two-pilot helicopter, can be flown from either right or left seat and all our crews are trained and qualified to do both. Typically, the pilot in the right-hand seat flies outbound, while the pilot in the left-hand seat manages checklists, radio work, and all other tasks required to be accomplished on our iPads.
The left-seater is also responsible for closing the rear cargo ramp, removing chocks, and closing the cabin door. These responsibilities are reversed for the inbound flight while each pilot remains in the same seat. Individual roles are typically decided by the crew on the day, but the company assigns the Pilot in Command for each flight. Clear as mud initially, but the arrangement works well once each pilot is accustomed to the expectations in each role.
One crew after another trickle out of the planning room to the flight line as they receive confirmation that their passengers are ready. Our call should come soon. We have thirteen passengers for our outbound flight today, and we know that the aircraft has been refuelled and baggage loaded in accordance with the flight manifest.
Right now the passengers should be in one of the briefing rooms where they are given a detailed pre-flight safety briefing and handed their life jackets for the flight. The men and women who work offshore in the oil & gas industry are very familiar with safety protocols, emergency procedures, PPE (Personal Protective Equipment) and preparing for worst-case scenarios. A routine helicopter flight represents just one more dimension of risk in this hazardous profession with the ever-present preparedness for ditching offshore.
We receive an electronic message on our iPads that our passengers are finally ready for the flight and we march out into the warm morning air to our S-92 on the flight line. It’s hot, and one of our primary tasks is to fire up the APU (Auxiliary Power Unit) that allows us to prepare all aircraft systems for flight, but more importantly, powers the air conditioning unit.
It works gloriously well, and our cabin and cockpit will be pleasantly cool before we allow passengers to embark. This also gives us a few minutes to consult ATIS for the latest airport weather, obtain our departure clearance and program our FMSs for our planned routes and IFR departure procedures. The weather forecast promises a pleasant day, devoid of any major activity, but there has been some rain overnight with cloudy remnants of those storms still drifting around. We will be flying a SID (Standard Instrument Departure) before adjusting course to our offshore destination.
Passengers are brought to the flight line in what can only be described as a ‘stretch limo golf cart.’ These things scurry around the flight line all day, and some even tow a small trailer for baggage and cargo.
Ground crews corral our passengers on board. The cargo ramp and cabin doors are closed and we start both engines and engage the rotor system for the first time today. This is when the helicopter really comes alive, and our excitement levels invariably raise a bar or two. Deafening noise, vibration, blinking lights, and thousands of bridled horsepower are all poised at our command as we taxi to the runway.
Our flight is scheduled to depart a little later than the other flights, and it appears that we’ve managed to avoid the early morning rush of IFR departures. The airport is busy, and the air traffic controller sounds like an auctioneer. I strain to understand his southern drawl. No doubt he is experiencing similar issues with my South African accent as he has only had Charlize, Trevor and Elon with their Americanised accents.
Our two General Electric CT7-8A engines collectively produce more than 5,000 horsepower, and to say that climb performance is impressive borders on understatement. Upon initial climb, we reduce engine power to bring performance to a manageable level and we slowly accelerate beyond our Vy (Best Rate of Climb speed) of 80kts to settle at around 100kts and 1,000 feet per minute for the cruise climb. We need a little over 70% power to accomplish that while loaded close to our maximum weight of 26,500 lbs.
Today, we will be flying outbound at 3,000 feet as headwinds only increase at higher levels. Our return flight at 6,000 feet should yield a healthy tailwind, which will propel us to a groundspeed of around 165kts. Fun!