You never can tell when you wake up and put your feet on the floor how your day will turn out. At three o’clock in the morning, during the window of circadian low, the chances of having any insight is quite literally zero; for a pilot this is very regularly the case. Coffee, and a cold shower, always seems to help, but the truth is you just never know. I’ve been pretty lucky in my career that I haven’t been exposed to too much on the flight deck, and in honesty I’m always thinking it will never happen to me. This is counter to all literature and teaching in the aviation world, which tells us that if something can happen, it will happen.

Check in for my flights always bores the tits off me, but as we go through the paper work today I’m a little bit on edge; the Captain is a TRE (type rating examiner). He could decide on a whim that I’m shit and my career in this airline would be over. To be fair to him, he is professional on a level I have not experienced to date and he is doing his best to put me at ease. Once we get on the flight deck I am shocked at the manner in which he is briefing the take-off and departure. He is covering almost every eventuality and his threat and error management is beyond what the average guys are doing day-to-day. “Right now, the biggest threat to safety on this flight deck is my lack of preparation,” I say with a grin. “Let’s keep it professional please Logan,” he replies, straight faced. Jesus Christ I am a dumbass, sometimes. If I wasn’t constantly watching Netflix and trying to score the cabin crew girls I might actually get better at this.

I stare out the window at the shimmering horizon under the hot desert sun and realise that I just need to relax and enjoy myself. As we line up on the runway he says “Your Controls” and hands over control of the airplane to me. We complete the last of the checks and advance the thrust levers. Once the power is stabilised we set take-off thrust and the aircraft accelerates down the runway to the sound of the engines at max power. The sound of the centreline lighting thumping under the nose-wheel, as I accurately hold the airplane on the centreline, is always a thrill. No matter how many times I’ve done this I feel a sense of satisfaction that I cannot articulate; it’s beautiful.

I ready myself to rotate the aircraft, and the Captain calls “V1”; we can’t stop now. Suddenly the nose swings to my right and the thump, thump, thump of the centreline lighting stops! I keep the airplane on the runway with a smooth rudder input and the Captain says, “Keep going!” The next thing I hear is “Rotate” and I do my best to slowly bring the nose off the ground and complete the take-off. As you’ve probably guessed by now, this isn’t a normal take-off, because the right engine is no longer producing power. Shit!

I have done this in the simulator tens of times and I have never managed to control it as well as I am right now. I’m tempted to comment on how well I’m doing, but I’m guessing the TRE sitting beside me would probably not approve. I keep my mouth shut. The airplane is climbing away and even though it’s only flying on one engine it’s more than capable of achieving the desired performance. Why I am dwelling on this fact is beyond me, but something isn’t right and I’m not quite sure what it is, apart from the failed engine. As we go through 400ft I ask him to state, “State Malfunction” No reply! If he were in control I’d use the two communications rule to confirm his wellbeing, but I’m pretty busy right now. I focus on my PFD, and accurately fly the flight director, but I have to figure out what is going on so I try again, “What do you see?” Silence. Not good! I look across and he’s slumped in his chair, mother of fuck, is he dead? Dead engine, dead Captain, I’ve got to keep a lid on this before it goes tits up.

The realisation that I am on my own is unpleasant, to put it mildly. “Mayday. Mayday. Mayday. Pilot incapacitation and engine failure, standby” I have got to stop focusing on how bad this scenario is and come up with a plan. The first step has got to be ensuring that the aircraft is made safe, so I secure the failed engine and move onto establishing what has happened to the Captain. I call the cabin manager to the flight deck. We’ve been flying for three minutes.

I level the airplane at a safe altitude and allow the cabin manager to enter the flight deck. She’s so calm, which allows me to relax to a degree. As she tends to the Captain I start to assess the engine indications confirming my fears that the engine is damaged beyond repair. I’m just silently thanking every deity I can think of that it’s only the engine that screwed. “He’s alive”, she tells me, which is great, but he’s not helpful so we have to get him out of that seat and off the flight deck. I request that she “secure him off the flight deck and find out if there are any flight deck crew travelling with us today?” She looks at me despondently and tells me “there are no other company pilots on board”. “Typical” is all I can muster as I try to focus on figuring out my next move.

To be continued…

Photo by Michael Hull on Unsplash