The Six Continent Club, lithium batteries, more defunct airlines: The pilot takes on a grab bag of topics.
By Patrick Smith
Read more: Technology & Business, Flying, Airlines, Business, P. Smith, Ask the Pilot
Jan. 11, 2008 | The first of these mishmash-style columns ran last April. (Best I know, I was the first columnist in the country to explore the phenomenon of adolescent girls toting giant fluffy pillows through airports.) My chosen title for the series was "Rummaging through the seat pocket of the mind," but my editor never seemed to like that. I have to say they're definitely fun to write, so I hope they're fun to read.
Editors and fact checkers will go to the ends of the earth to verify certain details -- God forbid a writer get the birth date wrong of some obscure 18th century philosopher. But why is it that aviation references commonly slip through the cracks? Time and time again writers get it wrong, and nobody seems to care. Consider the New Yorker, arguably the most prestigious magazine in the country. In the latest issue, in a "Talk of the Town" piece, editor David Remnick speaks of New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg's "Falcon 9" private jet. There is no such thing as a "Falcon 9." There is, however, a Falcon 900. Did somebody drop some zeroes? In the same magazine a couple of weeks ago, David Sedaris erred on the marketing name for Delta Air Lines' international business class, BusinessElite. Sedaris called it "Business Elite," leaving out the camel cap. That's less than egregious, I suppose, but it's the kind of thing the New Yorker prides itself on getting right. The magazine's style guide may restrict such usage, but that doesn't make it right. BusinessElite is a trademarked name.
After a series of potentially dangerous fires, the government has issued a new set of rules regarding the carrying of lithium batteries. High-energy lithium-ion power packs, found in many laptop computers and other electronic devices, are susceptible to a phenomenon called "thermal runaway" -- a chemical chain reaction causing them to rapidly and uncontrollably overheat. The Federal Aviation Administration has recorded approximately 73 reports of transportation incidents involving batteries and battery-powered devices in the past 15 years. In 2004, a pallet of improperly packaged batteries caught fire aboard a Federal Express plane as it readied for a flight from Memphis, Tenn., to Paris. In another incident, six lithium-ion batteries caught fire in the overhead bin of a Lufthansa flight on the ground in Chicago. And in February 2006, a UPS freighter made an emergency landing in Philadelphia before being ravaged by an inferno that burned for more than four hours. A shipment of lithium-ion batteries may have touched off the fire.
The new regulations took effect on Jan. 1. Loose (i.e., spare) batteries may no longer be carried in checked baggage. Those properly installed in computers, phones or other devices that they are rated for, however, are not affected, as the risk of short-circuiting is low. There is an exemption allowance for loose batteries in carry-on baggage, provided the terminals are protected by their original packaging, or are placed in a plastic bag or other protective travel case. That might sound contradictory, but the real danger isn't a small fire in the passenger cabin, where it can be readily put out with an extinguisher, but the possibility of an unseen fire in a baggage or freight compartment. Frighteningly, safety testing conducted by the FAA found that current aircraft cargo compartment extinguishing systems would not be capable of suppressing many lithium battery fires. In 1999, a shipment of 120,000 batteries ignited shortly after unloading from a Northwest Airlines jet. Workers repeatedly doused the pallets with a hose, but each time the fire appeared to be out, it suddenly flared up again.
The Department of Transportation has posted a number of safety tips online.
You may have caught coverage of last month's visit to France by our favorite Libyan peacock, Col. Moammar Gadhafi. There's an airplane connection that served to make the trip especially controversial: the 1989 bombing of UTA Flight 772, for which Gadhafi's government was held responsible. The attack occurred about nine months after the Pan Am bombing at Lockerbie, for which Libya also was responsible. Most Americans don't remember the incident, but it has never been forgotten in France. One hundred and seventy people from 17 countries, including seven Americans, were killed when an explosive device went off in the forward luggage hold of the McDonnell Douglas DC-10 on a flight from Brazzaville, Congo, to Paris. The wreckage fell into the Ténéré region of the Sahara, in northern Niger, one of the planet's most remote areas.
A news photograph of the DC-10's crushed forward fuselage, the blue and white paint incongruously stark against the dun-colored emptiness, is one of the more evocatively gruesome images you'll see and strikingly similar to the iconic photo of the Pan Am 747's cockpit lying in the grass near Lockerbie. It was widely assumed that the Libyan government had orchestrated the bombing, and eventually a French court convicted six in absentia, including Gadhafi's brother-in-law. The colonel later agreed to blood money settlements for Libya's hand in both the UTA and Pan Am bombings. The UTA agreement doles out $1 million to each of the families of the 170 victims. More than $2.7 billion was allotted to the Lockerbie next of kin.
UTA (Union des Transports Aériens) eventually became part of Air France. It was a storied carrier specializing in routes to former French colonies and territories. Its network -- across West Africa and deep into the South Pacific -- was among the most exotic and far-flung.