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Tag: Regional Airlines (page 1 of 3)

A rough winter

As I write this, I am home dealing with round two of a wicked cold that is wreaking havoc this year. Where I live, it has become so pervasive that schools are closing because of high absentee rates, and some are dealing with a lingering cough that lasts for weeks, if not months. On the news, all the talk is about the coronavirus, while online there are jokes about corona virus being cured with a slice of lime. Personally, I’m feeling pretty miserable, and I’m sick and tired of feeling sick and tired.

All kidding aside, this brings up the point that flying while sick is not a good idea. It can be dangerous (think: blown ear drums, vomiting, et cetera), inconsiderate, and illegal, since the FAA demands that you not do anything in violation of your medical. Certain medications may render you unable to fly for awhile as well.

Flying while sick also degrades your performance, and you never know when you’re going to need to bring your A game. While a desk-bound person or a sales rep or a number of other professions can get by with someone not feeling well, pilots may need to react to an emergency in a three-dimensional environment in very trying conditions. If you are sick or dizzy or sneezing or in a state of fatigue because  you are sick, your judgment is likely to be impaired and your reaction times diminished.

No matter where you are in your flying career, it would be a good idea to review your immunization records. In the last several years, there have been a number of sudden and unexpected changes in requirements for proof of vaccinations from certain diseases in certain countries. Recently, the Marshall Islands implemented a requirement for proof of measles vaccinations for crew members. If you’re considering a flying career that will cross borders, take the time to visit the State Department and Centers for Disease Control websites to see what shots they recommend getting for certain geographic regions. Diplomatic sites for the specific countries can also provide useful information. (This isn’t intended to start or engage in the argument of being in favor of or against the practice of vaccinations, but if crew members can’t or are not willing to show compliance with the laws of nations they may reasonably be expected to visit, then they may be denying themselves the possibility of employment, or risking a termination.)

Flying sick is also a pretty good way to make sure that you stay sicker longer. Staying home and resting is a better idea than trying to power through anything, even a common cold. When you do have to go to work, be a little more aware of basic hygiene practices such as washing your hands with soap, and using hand sanitizer and alcohol wipes. Use sick time for the intended purpose, and you’ll be fine. Back in the day, airlines—especially the regionals—were known for draconian sick leave policies. Those days are (largely) gone, as airlines now recognize that brining your illness to work is never the better solution.

Ask me how I know this…—Chip Wright

Airline charters

As the calendar turns to winter, regional airlines will be doing more and more basketball charter flights, especially for colleges. RJs of all sizes are ideal aircraft for this particular mission, between the seating capacity, the ability to get into smaller airports, and the cost to operate.

From a pilot’s perspective, charters generally work in ways similar to regular flights, but there are some differences. A charter coordinator from the airline usually rides along. The coordinator is the primary point of contact between the team and the airplane. The coordinator’s responsibilities include making sure that meals are properly catered (this is a major part of a charter, and if this gets messed up, it can cost an airline the contract), that buses are arranged, and, in remote places, that the flight release is properly delivered to the crew. This last responsibility is less of an issue now with the widespread use of iPads, but it’s not unusual that a paper copy is produced as a backup.

The worst part about charters is the unpredictability, and perhaps the hours. While games are scheduled, they can go long, and when they do, things can get interesting in a hurry.

Many charters take place at night, so one of the concerns is getting the airplane in position for its next assignment. I recently worked a regular trip with a morning departure out of Miami. The airplane, however, was coming off a charter for the Tampa Bay Rays, and the game—in New York—had gone into extra innings, delaying the flight to St. Pete-Clearwater International Airport, which delayed the ferry flight to Miami. We had to wait for the airplane to be cleaned, given a security inspection, and then made available to us. Our delay was more than an hour. When that happens, the delays can ripple through the day.

Baseball and basketball charters also include a lot of late-night or red-eye flying. Football isn’t quite as bad, but Thursday, Sunday, and Monday night games can be rough.

I did a NASCAR charter years ago (we were carrying a pit crew). We had a mechanical issue that we could not legally defer, and owing to a comedy of errors, it couldn’t get fixed in time. We wound up canceling the flight as our duty time expired (not so comedic), which caused all kinds of mayhem. Companies and organizations pay an awful lot of money for charters, and their patience for delays and cancellations is minimal. Throw in disgruntled employee job actions and the challenges to the airline can be steep.

Some events cause a surge in charters. The NCAA basketball tournaments, the World Baseball Classic, the College World Series, even corporate mergers all can generate a surge in charter activity. It also isn’t unusual for an organization or a college or university to request certain crew members who are known to go above and beyond in their efforts to please. I knew a captain at a major airline who was highly thought of by several of the NFL teams that he flew, and discreet efforts were made to get him assigned to those flights. He considered it an honor and did whatever he could to get the trips onto his schedule. Of course, the opposite also holds true, and you can be banned from charters, if not outright terminated.

Some charters can be a lot of fun, and others can be more tedious, but they all require a fair amount of flexibility. Charters are also guaranteed money-makers for the airline, and the contracts are valuable. Treat them like the important asset that they are and provide the best possible service you can. Heck, you might even wind up with some free tickets to a game or a concert!

Airport reserve

If you’re new to an airline, you’ll soon find that not all of the assignments are of the type that bring fame, glory, and riches. One of the least desirable is going to the airport and just sitting there.

This particular assignment goes by several names: ready reserve, field standby, hot standby, airport reserve. Whatever you call it, 99 percent of the time it is boring.

Essentially, airport reserve is just that: You’re assigned a window of time to spend at the airport, in uniform, ready to go. Your job is to be immediately available to get to a gate and get a flight out that has a sudden shortage of a crew. Last-minute sick calls; mechanical problems; crews timing out on their duty day; diversions of an inbound flight; and ferrying airplanes are common reasons for Scheduling to call the airport reserve crew to save the day.

Most of the time, you’ll go to the airport and go nowhere but home, but as we move into the winter months, there is usually an uptick in the usage of the airport reserve crews. Flu season compounds the problem, especially if pilots wake up to find out one of their kids or their spouse is sick and need to stay home. The contagious nature of the flu also means that people will spread the virus without realizing they are sick themselves. The same is true of the common cold. Summer also sees an increase in airport reserve usage as thunderstorms wreak havoc and force Scheduling to pull out all the stops to keep the operation moving along.

Depending on the airline, airport reserve will last anywhere from four to eight hours. Regionals tend to use this tool more than the majors, but the majors have it as well. It’s also common among cargo carriers, which are very schedule-sensitive.

There may be some overlap from one shift to the next, and there may or may not be rules in place to determine the methodology Scheduling can use to determine if the airport reserve can be called out versus someone sitting reserve at home. Often, you’ll question the logic of how certain people are used when. More often than not, you’ll be right to question those decisions. Hopefully, there will be other rules in place as well to prevent pointless scheduling practices, such as not bringing in a pilot for a late afternoon/evening shift who can’t do an overnight, or bringing in a pilot who has flown enough in the previous several days that he or she can’t do any of the flights on the schedule. It also helps to have a limit on the number a pilot can do in a given month.

The best thing you can do to make the time pass is to bring books and magazines to read, movies to watch, or use the time to catch up on company-mandated training. While you will be technically required to be in uniform, it may be possible to put your uni on a hanger and wear your civilian clothes, as long as you can change in short order and not create an undue delay in getting to the gate.

Airport reserve is one of the least appealing things about being a pilot, but used appropriately, it can be a life-saver for the airline. Done poorly, it can be a waste of money and resources. On some fleets, airport reserve doesn’t make sense, either because the fleet is too small or, for wide-bodies, the duty time limitations prevent it from being used effectively. Your job is to simply be prepared, suitcase stocked, ready to go at a moment’s notice to save the day and get at least one flight completed.—Chip Wright

Get ready for training

If you’re heading to your first airline job, it will pay to do some work on preparation. The typical airline training footprint is at least 6 weeks long, and it may be as much as 9 or 10 weeks.

During this time, you will be immersed in the metaphorical fire hose of training. From the day you walk in, you’ll be hit from all directions with information and material that you need to learn, and learn fast. Pack a bunch of flash cards and some highlighters—you’ll need them.

The first segment is basic indoctrination, which is a combination of human resources and admin stuff, followed by some company history and a week or two of intense study of the company operations manual, FAR 91 and 121, part 117 work rule restrictions, weather, and dispatch rules. Somewhere in here, you also need to do your benefit selections for insurance while you study, study, study for the first of several tests.

Once basic indoctrination is done, you’ll move on to the airplane, though you might get lucky and have a few days off. The airplane study will be intense, and in the current age, it might consist of just classroom lecture or a combination of lecture and computer-based training (CBT). Unfortunately, it might just be CBT, which the airlines like because it is viewed as more cost effective.

Either way, you’ll be learning about hydraulics, fuel flow, electrical schematics—all while memorizing the limitations and memory item checklists that will be meaningless until you’ve been exposed to each system. You’ll spend a lot of time in front of trainers or a wall poster learning where all the switches are, and what they do, and when. Flow patterns will be introduced, and you’ll be expected to memorize them before you set foot in the sim.

Once the systems training is complete in about a two-week span, you’ll move on to the sims. With luck, there will be some integration that takes place in the classroom with a trainer to help you get acclimated to the cockpit before heading to the sims. But if not, when you get to the sims, the workload really picks up. You’ll be expected to have the calls and flows down pat early on, and now you have to show off your ace-of-the-base flying skills while learning new maneuvers and flying an airplane that is almost always broken. Nothing ever works in the sim!

During sim training, you’ll take at least one and possibly as many as three checkrides that will result in your type rating.

Once the sim is done, you can usually expect a few days off. The next step is initial operating experience (IOE) with a line check airman in the airplane. A lot of regionals will have you ride a few flights in the jump seat on these down days in order to view the operation live. You get a chance to see how everything comes together on a real flight, and you can talk to the crew and ask questions while being an observer who isn’t observed.

IOE takes up the last part of your training. It’s usually scheduled for at least two trips, and maybe three depending on the schedule. Once you’re finish, you’ll move on to the last requirement, which is consolidation, which is the accumulation of 75/100 hours of time in type, after which you are no longer considered low time.

Training is intense and it requires all of your focus. There will be very little time to spend on personal issues or problems, so make sure that your family and loved ones know that you will be checking out once training starts. If you’re married, your spouse is going to need to carry the load while you’re in training. If you’re single, plan ahead for dealing with bills, pets, et cetera. It’s a lot of work, and a lot to learn. But the payoff comes when you finally get to rotate and go airborne for the first time on the line, having mastered an overwhelming amount of information in a short span of time.—Chip Wright

Breaking the chain to get the job you want

Recently, I’ve had to sit on the cockpit jump seat during several commutes because of heavy loads during the holidays. It isn’t the most comfortable seat in the house, but hey, a free ride is a free ride and full airplanes bode well for my job security and profit sharing. This has led to all manner of conversations with the crew—outside of the sterile cockpit realm, of course.

Most of these commutes tend to be on Republic, which is one of the largest regionals in the country, and also the world’s largest operator of the Embraer E-170/175 series of jets. In fact, following Republic’s bankruptcy a few years ago, it’s the only airplane the company operates, having shed the older E-145 “Jungle Jet.”

Almost without exception, the conversation at some point turns to the topic of hiring at both the regionals and the majors, rumors, fact-checking, and seeing who knows who. Republic flies on behalf of United, American, and Delta, and it is a key cog for each carrier. Numerous pilots have relayed to me that it’s extremely difficult for Republic pilots to get on directly with one of their code-share partners; friends who work for Republic have told me the same thing. The conclusion and consensus is that the three “brand names” don’t want to contribute to a shortage of pilots at one of their key regional partners. That said, all three have other carriers with whom they have preferential hiring or interview programs set up, but those other regionals tend to be much smaller. and the process is tightly controlled in order to manage the flow of pilots in such a way that metal can still be moved.

I saw this when I was at Comair. For years, Delta had three regional partners responsible for over 90 percent of its regional flying: Comair, ASA, and Skywest. When Delta needed to hire, it tended to take pilots from one of the three carriers in chunks, and when that carrier called Atlanta to complain about losing pilots, the ratio would shift to favor pilots from one of the other two.

This is a bit of a simplistic explanation, but the reality was that Delta didn’t want to leave any of its regionals with a shortage that would only hurt Delta, so the company hired relatively evenly from all three. By doing so, the company also got pilots that were intimately familiar with the Delta system, so it was a win-win. Keep in mind that Delta was also getting pilots experienced in flying jets when that was a relatively rare phenomenon, unlike today.

Those days are largely over, and the pilot shortage is real enough that the majors with regional feed need to consider the ramifications of their hiring decisions on their regional partners. As a result, pilots at Republic are forced to consider “breaking the chain” if they want to get on one with one of the big legacy carriers. Essentially, this means that many are opting for a carrier such as Spirit, JetBlue, Allegiant, or one of the cargo ACMI operators like Southern or Kalitta. Many are also going to Southwest.

Once they get hired by someone outside of their brand of choice, they test the waters for a year or so and make a decision about going through the job-searching process, a new training cycle, et cetera, taking into account career goals and the disruption to family life.  As you might expect, many stay, especially with strong carriers like Southwest and JetBlue. But not all do, and they find that getting hired at UA/AA/DL is much easier when they are no longer directly tied to those carriers. Passing muster in a bigger airplane also helps.

None of this is necessarily fair, but it is the reality of the current job market, and it’s a strategy that people in other fields have been using since the dawn of time. Pilots are no different: Job One is looking out for yourself. Hopefully, Republic will enter into genuine flow or feed agreements across the board, which would benefit all parties. In the meantime, pilots at carriers in a similar position need to be willing to consider the same strategy.—Chip Wright

Choosing the regionals as a career

No pilot has ever begun a career with the goal of becoming a career pilot for a regional airline. It almost always happens unexpectedly.

For some it is the result of bad timing, such as getting into aviation late in life and being held back by a series of economic downturns. For others, the lack of a four-year degree becomes an insurmountable obstacle, and others are denied a chance to move on because of a poor training history, DUIs, medical issues, or just bad luck. Most of the pilots I know who chose to stay at the regionals until retirement didn’t need the extra income that a job at the majors would provide. They often had another source of income, military pensions, a spouse with a great job, or had done well enough in previous career fields that flying for a regional was all they needed. As a percentage of the total, however, these folks represented a small group.

Most of the time, career regional pilots wake up and find themselves in the most common of situations: a mortgage, perhaps a spouse who isn’t working outside the home or works part time, kids, car payments, and numerous other trappings and obligations of a middle-class family. They decide that the move to a major isn’t for them. Many cite their current schedules, seniority, days off, et cetera, and believe that they will be too long in getting back to a similar point before the kids are grown.

Should you opt for this lifestyle, or feel forced to stay in it, keep in mind that your job security is tied to circumstances beyond your control. Network managers for your major airline partner decide which regionals come and go, how big each will get, and what you’re going to get paid. Your company controls absolutely nothing that matters.

That said, there are ways to maximize such a career in a way that will keep you competitive if you ever need to get that next job, while providing personal enrichment and satisfaction. One of the easiest is to get involved in the training department, which is larger than most people realize. Sim and ground instructors are the obvious choices, and great teachers with line experience are always valued. Becoming an examiner increases pay and responsibility and looks great on a resume. Training management experience can be parlayed into careers outside of aviation and will never provide a dull moment.

Involvement with updating manuals and procedures is another area of expertise that sounds more dull than it is. Airlines modify or tweak procedures all the time based on human factors studies, accident and incident reports, manufacturer recommendations, and more. When one thing changes, it often triggers an avalanche of manual revisions, which must be done in concert with the FAA. Working with the feds increases your contact network and can lead to great opportunities.

Safety departments also attract a certain kind of person, both on the company and the union side, and they often work hand in hand. Nowhere is this more true than with ASAP programs. The beauty of safety work is that this is an area in which the airlines freely exchange information and data, because safety is universal. There are numerous conferences every year in which safety data is discussed, analyzed, and shared (much of this also includes folks in training).

Staying with the regionals isn’t the typical choice, but for those that make it (or are forced to make it), there are ample opportunities to make a difference, and the job can be as satisfying as you want it to be. You can also stay connected with others in a way that you can use to move on if you choose or have to move on, all while staying current in the airplane. If this is you, broaden your horizons as much as possible, and dive into some of these chances. You’ll be glad you did.—Chip Wright

Loss of the turboprop

Recently, Hinson Airways, a small regional airline on the East Coast, flew its last flight in the venerable Bombardier Dash 8. The Dash, as it was commonly called, was once a popular turboprop, a 30-seat puddle jumper that connected small cities to airline hubs, often by making stops in other small cities on the way. Such flying now represents a largely bygone age.

While Horizon Air still operates the Dash 8 Q400, a larger version of the airplane, the company is the only regional still flying turboprops for its major airline partners. Everyone else has committed to some form of the regional jet.

This is not an insignificant development for pilots who want to fly for the airlines. Back in the day, turboprops were the backbone of regional flying, with Saabs, Brasilias, ATRs, Jetstreams, and Beech 1900s—the airplane everyone loved to hate—providing a large chunk of the lift from Smallville, USA, to the hubs to connect to jets (or, God forbid, another turboprop).

These airplanes were often a major stepping stone for pilots who had not yet been exposed to flying a turbine aircraft. The training could be challenging, especially since a lot of it took place in the airplane itself, usually in the middle of the night. In time, more sophisticated simulators came into play (the simulator for the EMB-120 Brasilia was said to have cost more than the airplane, but the gain in safety more than offset the financial cost).

Nowadays, pilots from the piston world have even fewer opportunities to get entry-level jobs flying turboprops for Part 135 operations or smaller commuter airlines, as they were called. That means the big leap is no longer from a piston twin such as a Piper Seneca or Aztec to a Beech 1900. It’s from a Piper Seminole to a jet. The transition is eased by the fact that so much of general aviation is using avionics that equal or exceed what RJs have. However, it’s a large leap from a piston twin that might fly 140 to 160 knots to a jet that can have a true airspeed of more than 400 knots.

Speed is probably the biggest challenge associated with moving into jets. Everything happens much faster, except for slowing down, which takes forever. As a result, speed and energy management are real challenges, and training and practice are critical. Unfortunately, the sterile environment of the simulator does only so much to prepare a pilot for all the various curve balls that the real world can throw your way. Tight turns to final, weather deviations, high speed aborted takeoffs, and even ATC mistakes will all be in a day’s work.

It’s both a shame and a blessing that turboprops are gone. They provided great experience, a great stepping stone, and in the airplanes with no autopilot, they made for phenomenal instrument pilots with well-developed decision-making skills. The work was exhausting (six to eight legs a day in airplanes with minimal air conditioning, followed by short nights), often in the worst of the weather, and words of thanks were relatively rare, but quality of the pilot produced was first rate. The blessing, of course, is that jets are much faster, more comfortable and, with the proper training, safer.—Chip Wright

Cargo versus passengers

I was recently in a friendly debate with some friends on Facebook about the merits of flying cargo versus passengers, especially in the coming years as Amazon continues its stratospheric growth. Those who fly cargo tend to be absolutely devoted to that line of work. The common refrain is that boxes don’t complain, and the chief pilot rarely calls.

What are some of the pros and cons of cargo versus passenger flying? Let’s start with cargo. Yes, it’s true that cargo doesn’t complain, unless it consists of live animals, in which case it may very well complain or lose control of its bowels. But the point is valid. Passengers do a lot of bellyaching about the airlines—some deserved, some not so much. Boxes just sit there and take up space, and they don’t care if the ride is bumpy or if the cabin is hot or cold.

Passenger carriers generally have fairly set rules on leaving early. Cargo operations tend to be more relaxed about departure times. If the airplane is full 30 minutes ahead of schedule, chances are you can leave. That may not sound like much, but if you’re scheduled to fly all night, every minute of getting done early helps.

Speaking of the schedule, that is hands-down the biggest drawback to cargo flying. The overwhelming majority of the schedule takes place “on the back side of the clock,” also known as night time. While many cargo pilots claim that you can get acclimated to the schedule, the reality is that the human body isn’t designed to be awake at night for extended periods of time. You’ll be asleep when others are awake, which can be a challenge in hotels if they’re noisy. You will be forced to flip your body around when you get home in order to have any semblance of a family life.

But if you can make it to the big boys of cargo (FedEx and UPS), the benefits are tough to beat. The pay is fantastic (it has to be to attract pilots to that kind of work) and the health insurance and retirement are superb.

Even at the second-tier carriers, such as Atlas and Southern, there have been meaningful changes and improvements. Pay is going up, and schedules are getting better. Amazon is clearly trying to get a better deal on shipping costs by controlling its own airplanes, but it remains to be seen if the company can build a stand-alone delivery system. But even if it can’t, it can produce jobs that don’t currently exist. The downside? The pay is no match for the majors, and it probably never will be, even though it’s getting better.

Passenger carriers have their own pros and cons. Passengers do indeed complain, and it’s embarrassing to see your company on the news when something bad happens. The competition is cutthroat. Working conditions at the regional airlines are a far cry from what they used to be, but they’re not where they need to be.

The schedules can be somewhat sporadic, but outside of long-haul flying, they’re not nearly as hard on the body as cargo. Pay, however, is now much more reflective of the market for pilots, especially at the regionals. For some, the availability of pass benefits and free travel makes all the difference. I like to get the words of thanks and appreciation from my passengers when we get them where they want to go. Cargo may not complain, but it doesn’t thank you, either.

And the chief pilot? He rarely calls as well. And when he does, it’s almost always a justified phone call, and it’s the same phone call his compatriot at a cargo company would make.

There are pros and cons to both cargo and passenger flying. Both offer their own rewards. If you’re not sure which one you want to do, try them both, talk to pilots on both sides, and use that information to make a decision.—Chip Wright

New regional first officer pay agreement

Every month it seems that more evidence comes out about how extreme the pilot shortage is getting. I got an email tonight that was as clear as could be that it’s getting worse. ExpressJet Airlines, which at one time was the regional feed for Continental and is now owned by SkyWest Airlines, has been struggling for awhile to find enough qualified pilots to staff its airplanes. The union leadership at ExpressJet and ASA (also owned by SkyWest) has agreed to allow the company to hire pilots with previous FAR 121 experience and pay them based previous years of service.

That means that a former Comair pilot with 15 years of experience can get hired and get paid at year-10 pay. The news release doesn’t get very specific, but since ExpressJet only has an eight-year scale for first officers, it could mean that the 10-year pay includes captain time.

If so, that would mean that a new hire with the appropriate experience will get paid $81 per hour versus $37 per hour—a difference of $44. Further, the benefit of previous experience is also being extended to the 401(k) plan and vacation. The new pilots will still be at the bottom of the seniority list, so they’ll be on reserve, they’ll be junior FOs, and they won’t be hired as “street captains.”

Still, this is a huge step. It’s an admission that current recruiting efforts for pilots are not bearing any fruit. To take that a step further, it’s of even greater significance that the union agreed to this, because this practice goes against almost 100 years of industry norm.

It has the potential to ruffle some feathers among the pilots on property, but—in theory—it shouldn’t, since those hired previously are still getting paid based on total experience. If I read the press release correctly, pilots who were previously hired and would have met the requirements to get paid more will also get a pay bump. The only catch to this new rule is that the new-hire pilot is required to have left his or her previous carrier on good terms. In other words, it’s OK to have been furloughed or to have resigned, but if you were fired, you’re out of luck.

There’s virtually no chance of this sort of deal coming to fruition at the majors, since the number of pilots applying for those jobs far exceeds the number of jobs available. It also helps that the pay at the majors is also substantially greater than the pay at the regionals.

Still, this is a deal that can’t be made without at least some blessing of management at the majors, since they’re the ones that pay the regionals, and this is going to drive up the block hour cost of regional flying. For regional pilots who have checked out of the industry for awhile, this just might be the enticement they need to come back. We’ll see how the details pan out, but this could be a golden opportunity for many.—Chip Wright

Pay formulas

If you’re getting ready to enter the airline ranks, it’s natural to wonder exactly how and what you’ll get paid. I’ve covered the basics of the pay scales before, and the pay rates for most airlines are published on AirlinePilotCentral.com.

To figure out a rough annual income, multiply each wage by 1,000, since pilots average 1,000 hours a year of pay. If you want to guess low, multiply the wage by the number of reserve hours guaranteed in a month, and then multiply that number by 12.

But what about the day-to-day workings? You may hear about trip and duty rigs, and you may not understand them. Here’s a quick rundown of how you can expect to get paid.

Generally, you’ll get paid for what you fly, which won’t be more than eight hours a day and will average five to seven. There’s a minimum number of pay hours each day guaranteed, known as “min day,” but the airline will generally try to have you fly more than that. It can be as low as three, and as much as six, but five hours is typical.

The duty rig takes into account getting paid for your time at work on a given day. Not every airline has a duty rig (most regionals don’t), but when they do, it’s typically a 2:1 ratio, which means that for every two hours at work on a given day, you’re guaranteed one hour of pay. This is designed to prevent having the company schedule you for one flight at the beginning of the day and another at the end, with nothing to do for hours at a time in between. So, if you work a 10-hour day, you’ll be guaranteed at least five hours of pay. But if you fly more, you’ll get paid more.

Then there’s the trip rig. The trip starts the minute you check in, which is usually an hour before the first departure, and it ends shortly after the last leg blocks in (the exact time varies by company,  usually 15 to 20 minutes, but it may be more after an international flight to take into account the need to clear Customs and Immigration). This time is known as time away from base, or TAFB. TAFB is also what is used to calculate your daily per-diem allowance, which is paid by the hour.

Depending on the airline, the TAFB ratio is usually somewhere between 3.5 to 4, meaning that for each 3.5 to 4 hours away from base, you’re guaranteed at least an hour of pay.

I recently flew a typical four-day trip that started at 8 a.m. on Day 1 and ended at 2:46 p.m. on Day 4, for a total TAFB of 78:46. The total flying time was 22:28. The formula for the rig is 3.5:1, which means that 78:46/3.5 guarantees me 22:30 of pay, a difference of only two minutes over the scheduled flight time.

There are times when the company can’t avoid long layovers—holidays, some international destinations, and charters are examples—so the trip rig is designed to ensure the pilot gets paid for time away from his or her family while giving the airline an incentive to fly you as much as possible while at work. The airline is “penalized”  when it uses soft time. The system generally works.

At the end of the trip, the duty rig, flight time, and trip rig are examined, and the one that pays the highest is usually what you’ll get paid.

Most companies pay for cancelled flights, so the crew isn’t making decisions based on pay implications, and vacation and sick pay are different for each airline. Once you’ve become immersed in the industry for a while, you’ll understand the subtleties of the various rules, and which ones are most desirable.

There are always exceptions, and there are different rules specific to each company, but this gives you a feel for what you can expect in terms of calculating the various pay options.—Chip Wright

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