Jet Bridge Blues

May 15, 2023

PHOTOS BY THE AUTHOR.

THE JET BRIDGE, that strange, too-often troublesome umbilicus connecting terminal to fuselage.

The other day I was stuck on a regional jet for twenty minutes because the gate agent couldn’t get the damn thing into the right position. If only I had a dollar for every time this has happened. And much of the problem, I think, is that these devices are so monstrously over-engineered. Take a look at the typical jet bridge. The things are enormous. They must weigh hundreds of thousands of pounds and cost millions of dollars.

(Note: I’ll be using the generic term rather than “Jetway,” which is a brand.)

That wayward bridge at JFK was twice the size of the plane. As the agent fumbled with the thing, it looked like she was trying to steer a battleship. Hydraulic arms flexed and groaned, machinery wailed, lights flashed and bells rang. Finally the tires began to turn — like the wheels of those huge mobile barges that NASA used to position the Saturn rockets. All of this so that fifty people could walk the negligible distance from the aircraft to the terminal.

I realize the bridges are multifunction. The air conditioning and power connections used by the plane during its downtime are part of the assembly. But do they need to be so big and heavy, with all of this Rube Goldberg machinery? It’s just a gangway for crying out loud. You see simpler, lightweight, often glass-sided jet bridges in Europe and elsewhere around the world (see the following photo), but here in the U.S. we rely on these ponderous, lumbering contraptions.

Of course, I’m opposed to jet bridges on principle. I prefer the classic, drive-up airstairs. Some of the international stations I fly to still employ those old-timey stairs, and I always get a thrill from them. There’s something dramatic about stepping onto a plane that way: the ground-level approach along the tarmac followed by the slow ascent. The effect is like the opening credits of a film — a brief, formal introduction to the journey. The jet bridge makes the airplane almost irrelevant; you’re merely in transit from one annoying interior space (terminal) to another (cabin).

Plus, it takes me back to my first-ever ride on an airplane. It was 1974 and I was eight years-old, and I vividly remember walking up the stairs to that American Airlines 727. A photo snapped by my mother immortalizes the moment…

I know, the bridges are important for passengers with limited mobility or who rely on wheelchairs, and for avoiding inclement weather. But the old-style stairs worked well for decades, and I see no reason they couldn’t still. Hydraulic lifts could be used for wheelchairs while the rest of us climb the stairs. I’m convinced this would be a faster and more efficient method. Ryanair is one carrier that agrees with me. The European budget giant relies on stairs, not bridges, at most of its stations.

But if we’re going to rely on jet bridges, we ought to have not only simpler ones, but more of them. Airports outside the U.S. routinely board and deplane a widebody jet through multiple doors using multiple bridges — at least two, and sometimes even three. This makes a massive difference in how long it takes to move hundreds of people, and their hundreds of carry-ons, between the terminal and the cabin. Here at home it takes 45 minutes to get a few dozen people onto a regional jet, and it’s chaos the entire time, while in Asia I’ve seen 500 passengers board an A380 in under thirty minutes. Dual-bridge boarding does exist in the United States, but it’s uncommon.

In Amsterdam, KLM boards some of its flights using forward bridges, plus a unique, over-the-wing bridge that connects to the rear fuselage. These overwing bridges are by no means lightweight, slung from a superstructure that looks like something you’d see in a shipyard where they build aircraft carriers, but they do make getting on and off the jet quicker and more pleasant.

Another reason that boarding is more efficient in other countries, Asia especially, is that carriers there tend to use bigger planes. In Asia, even a 45-minute hop is often aboard a 777 or A330. Widebody planes, with dual aisles and all-around greater spaciousness, are by their nature easier to get on and off. In the U.S., aircraft size has been steadily shrinking over the past three decades. More people are flying than ever before, it’s true, but we’re doing it on smaller planes: regional jets, A319s, 737s and the like. The reasons for this are a subject for another time, but the narrow aisles and limited bin space mean longer boarding and deplaning times.

A few years back, my friend Harriet Baskas penned this interesting story for USA Today on the history of the jet bridge.

In closing, just an observation…

Look around, and it seems that 90 percent of the world’s jet bridges are emblazoned with logo of HSBC.

I’m not sure this advertising strategy has been all that effective, however, because although millions of people see these four letters every day, relatively few of them know what they’re looking at. I did a little impromptu research, asking several colleagues if they knew what HSBC was. Not one of them could tell me.

HSBC is a British bank, originally founded in Shanghai and Hong Kong. The letters stand for “Hong Kong and Shanghai Banking Corporation.” It’s one of the ten biggest banks measured by assets. The company pays tens of millions of dollars every years to airport authorities the world over — mostly at major international hubs — for the rights to put its name on boarding bridges.

In 2012, HSBC was hit with a $1.9 billion fine for laundering money on behalf of drug cartels and terrorist groups — carrying on a tradition of questionable practices that goes back generations, apparently, to the days of the opium trade.

 

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Q&A With the Pilot, Volume 1

AN OLD-TIMEY QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS SESSION.

Eons ago, in 2002, a column called Ask the Pilot, hosted by yours truly, started running in the online magazine Salon, in which I fielded reader-submitted questions about air travel. It’s a good idea, I think, to touch back now and then on the format that got this venerable enterprise started. It’s Ask the Pilot classic, if you will.

Q: I was on a flight and the emergency hatch next to us made the most awful squealing noise during takeoff and landing. We were told it was nothing to worry about, but needless to say I spent the whole flight a nervous wreck.

What you describe isn’t terribly uncommon. Such sounds are caused by small leaks around the door seal as the plane’s pressurization levels fluctuate (sort of like those that result when you stretch the neck of a balloon as it deflates). It’s noisy but it couldn’t be less dangerous. Tiny air leaks pose no hazard. There’s always a little bit of flexibility built into certain airframe components — there has to be — and this is one result.  Usually, after a while, the door will settle into a sweet spot and the sound will stop. A similar thing happens in the cockpit sometimes around the seals of the sliding side windows.

On some aircraft — usually smaller ones — the door seal consists of an inflatable gasket. Occasionally this gasket will burst or deflate, causing a gradual depressurization, which is a big hassle that could result in a diversion (having to fly at a lower altitude means having to burn more fuel). The 19-seaters I used to fly had an inflatable seal around the main boarding door. When it failed, as it did once in a while, it made a hideous noise — a sort of hypersonic flatulence, like a motorcycle roaring through the cabin. It scared the hell out of the people closest to the door, but all in all it was harmless.

Q: We flew from Miami to JFK on an MD-80. The jet is laid out with two seats on one side of the aisle and three on the other. The question came up: does the asymmetric 3/2 configuration cause any kind of imbalance?  

No. Even on a smallish plane like the MD-80 series (a derivative of the even older DC-9), the imbalance is less than negligible. In the cabin, longitudinal balance is a lot more important that lateral balance.  But even there it tends to be a minor factor — at least on bigger planes, where the weight of passengers makes up a surprisingly small percentage of a plane’s overall weight.  As covered in the first chapter of my book, in the case of a fully loaded 747, the weight of 400 passengers plus their luggage accounts for less than 10 percent of the plane’s total weight.

Q: What are the normal climb rate and decent rates for jetliners? I know it probably varies, but as a student pilot I was wondering how steep the average rates are.

Indeed it varies. It varies so much that I’m not sure what answer to give you. Really there’s no such thing as a “normal” climb or descent rate. It depends on the weight of the plane, your altitude, the temperature, how many feet you’re trying to lose or gain, ATC constraints, etc. During cruise, if we have to climb or descend only slightly — say 1,000 or 2,000 feet — I’ll usually set up the autopilot for a mild, 500 foot-per-minute rate.  On the other hand, I’ve seen rates as high as 5,000-6,000 feet-per-minute both climbing and descending. In the 757s and 767s that I fly, planes I fly, takeoff and initial climb can be anywhere from 2,000 to 5,000 feet-per-minute, depending on the aircraft weight and what segment of the departure profile you’re flying.

Five thousand feet-per-minute sounds like a lot, but so long as any climb or descent is initiated gradually, with minimal change of g-force, even the steepest rates will be barely detectable from a passenger’s seat-of-the-pants perspective.

Q: How come it feels as if Ryanair pilots land at higher speeds than pilots at other carriers? And Ryanair’s pilots always seem to land hard.

Landing speed isn’t subjective. Approach and landing speeds are determined by weight, wind, and flap setting, and aren’t really negotiable. No airline’s pilots land faster (or slower) than anybody else’s. As to the second part of your question, Ryanair tends to serve smaller, outlying airports that often have shorter, less forgiving runways. The technique when landing on a short runway is to not try and finesse it. A slightly firmer touchdown using less runway is preferable to a smoother touchdown that wastes pavement.

Q: Is it true that airlines always hold out one seat in first class for the pilot? And does that mean if, online, it shows two seats left in first, really there is only one?

Long-haul flights carry extra pilots that work in shifts or in teams. The pilots on their rest break retire to a designated rest area. On some aircraft this means a first or business class seat that is pre-reserved for crew. These seats are considered “booked” just as if a passenger had reserved them. So, if an airline says two seats are open, then yes, two seats are open.

On most bigger planes, though, the crew rest quarters are entirely separate from passenger seating. Typically there are bunks or other accommodations tucked away somewhere — above, below, or on the main passenger deck — and accessible only to the pilots (flight attendants have their own rest quarters located elsewhere). In that case, no, there are no seats held for the pilots.

All of this is separate from crews that might be “deadheading.” That is, pilots or cabin staff who are riding as passengers as part of a repositioning assignment. In this case too, the seats occupied by these employees are blocked ahead of time and will not show up as open inventory.

Q: After landing and taxiing into the apron, we came to a stop a couple of hundred feet from the terminal, shut down the engines, and finally were towed to the gate by a tug-tractor.  This seems to be common procedure at many airports. What’s the reason?  

Many gates at congested airports are tow-in only. The proximity of ground equipment, vehicles and workers makes it hazardous to maneuver using the engines. Even at low power a jet engine produces a considerable amount of thrust that could easily flip over a baggage container — or a person.

Q: I understand for example that a Boeing 747-400 is the -400 variant of the basic 747 model. But what does it mean when I see a picture of an aircraft and the photographer displays the code 747-430?

Maximum geek on this one. The second two numbers of the suffix — the “30” in this case — are the customer code. Boeing assigns each airline has its own two-number code. The 30 code (I Googled it) belongs to Lufthansa. All 747-400s sold to Lufthansa are 747-430s.  A 777-200 delivered to United Airlines would be a 777-222. And so on. This is to help account for engine type, cabin configuration and other customer-specific options. Even if these planes are subsequently sold to another carrier, the designation remains.

The original 747s, the -100s, were actually 747-121s. The 21 suffix belonged to Pan Am.

 

EMAIL YOUR QUESTIONS TO patricksmith@askthepilot.com

Related Stories:

Q&A WITH THE PILOT, Volume 1
Q&A WITH THE PILOT, Volume 2
Q&A WITH THE PILOT, Volume 3
Q&A WITH THE PILOT, Volume 4
Q&A WITH THE PILOT, Volume 5
Q&A WITH THE PILOT, Volume 6

Portions of this post appeared previously in the magazine Salon.

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