![]() He hoped I hadn’t informed my passengers as to the airline that caused the wild ride. The captain replied with an equally humorous apology. With a humorous tone, I expressed my lack of appreciation for sending us his wingtip vortices. I’m a Boeing guy.Ī day later, I attached the photos to the e-mail message I sent the Air France captain. Perhaps the airplane was seeking revenge for my opinion of its appearance. I now have a new regard for the size of an A380. They had climbed above us at some point down the road. Once level, through the observation process of the TCAS and radio chatter, we determined that our friends at Air France had cut my coffee break short. Utilizing heading mode, I corrected our slight deviation away from the course line until LNAV re-engaged. I continued our climb, selecting the more efficient VNAV mode. ![]() Our clearance request was granted without delay. Within moments, another wispy spiral sped its way back toward our position. I wasn’t going to wait for the next encounter. I pressed the vertical-speed button on the glareshield eyebrow and rotated the dial to a 500 fpm rate of climb. I instructed my copilot to ask Gander Center for an immediate altitude change to FL 400. The vortex once again appeared, buffeting the airplane. Never in my career had I actually seen one in its entirety at cruise altitude. In spectacular fashion, I watched as a wispy spiraling circle rocketed back toward us. I immediately pushed the heading select button on the eyebrow of the glareshield and turned us 30 degrees to the right. Sure enough, another airplane cruised directly ahead of us at FL 400. Suspecting foul play, I glanced at the traffic symbol on the TCAS display. I hopped back into the left seat only to be greeted by another bout of turbulence. ![]() I stumbled my way to the interphone and called my copilot, indicating an urgent desire to return to the cockpit. Imagine that.īy the sharpness of the bumps and the definitive bank of the airplane, I had a good idea that we had not encountered your garden-variety clear-air turbulence. He was commanding all flight attendants to be seated. The flight attendant reached for the handset. Within moments, the intercom phone chimed. Her smile was replaced by a wide-eyed expression. The very pleasant and seasoned flight attendant I had engaged in conversation grabbed the nearest stationary piece of galley equipment for support. As I began to pour, the airplane experienced a rapid succession of intense turbulence. After my lavatory visit, the next order of business was a cup of java. It is accepted fact that most international airline war stories begin with, “When the captain was on break …” This short story is no exception.Ī few hours later, my bladder and caffeine levels were at polar opposites. Unfortunately, we would have another exchange, but through no deliberate fault of Air France, this encounter wasn’t as pleasant. We exchanged a few more pleasantries and some A380 trivia. ![]() When the captain responded, I offered to e-mail the photos. Proud of my accomplishment, I keyed the mic on the air-to-air frequency and hailed the Air France flight. A quick scan of my pictures revealed I’d managed to capture a few decent shots - cool. Once my marginal attempts at photography were complete, I retreated back to the left seat with the Nikon. I’m sorry, but a Beluga whale pregnant with twins is more attractive. On the ground, the airplane has no sex appeal. The A380 has a majestic quality in flight. I considered pushing the thrust levers up and matching the speed for pure gamesmanship, but burning more fuel didn’t make sense just for entertainment purposes.Īs my camera clicked away, I made a subjective observation. The A380 was gliding by at a speed of Mach. Taking a step toward the copilot’s window, I took in the view. I unbuckled, rose from my seat and retrieved the Nikon from my laptop bag. “Just happen to have my camera available,” I remarked. “Great photo op, Boss,” my copilot announced as he stared outside. Within minutes, the anonymous jet appeared in view from the copilot’s side window. The other airplane was 1,000 feet below at FL 380. Another airplane was approaching us from behind at the 5 o’clock position. As we passed our first waypoint of 20 degrees longitude westbound over the North Atlantic, my copilot and I studied the TCAS symbol on the navigation display.
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