No Man's Land

the untold story of automation on QF72

Kevin Sullivan

• Publisher: ABC Books
• Year: 2019
• ISBN:
  9781460710906
• Topic: Geschichte
• Subtopic: Geschichte des 21. Jahrhunderts

A former US Top Gun and Qantas captain's gripping account of how one of the world's worst air disasters, caused by a rogue computer, was narrowly averted. Former US Navy Top Gun Kevin Sullivan, captain of the ill-fated Perth-bound Qantas Flight 72, breaks his silence to give a gripping account of how a rogue computer went 'psycho' and sent the Airbus A330 into two terrifying nosedives towards the Indian Ocean. Unlike other well-publicised near air disasters such as those described in Sully and QF32, Sullivan's plane carrying 303 passengers was out of control, with a G force of -8 driving anyone and anything untethered through the cabin roof. It took the skill and presence of mind of a veteran Top Gun to wrestle the plane back under control and perform an emergency landing at a RAAF base in the middle of WA. More than 100 injured people, many seriously, were airlifted to hospital in Perth. As automation becomes the way of the future, the story of QF72 raises important questions about how much control we relinquish to computers and whether more checks and balances are needed.

I

KNIFE FIGHT

1.

‘Geez, Kev,’ says Pete. ‘I thought about going sick on this trip.’ He points at the amber master caution light on the console. The plane’s computers have detected a fault in the air system connected to one of our engines.

Behind us, Ross chuckles. My reputation as a ‘shit magnet’ is widespread throughout the airline. This is aviation slang for a pilot who has attracted more than their fair share of malfunctions and emergency situations. It is true, though. As a Qantas pilot, I’ve had to deal with more shit than most. But they also know my reputation for being cooler than a cucumber smoothie when Fate tests me.

‘Yeah, well, that better be the worst thing that happens today.’ I stare them down with one eyebrow raised.

Good thing these guys are two of the best. First Officer Pete Lipsett has had an extensive career flying helicopters in the Royal Australian Navy. He’s a few years younger than me, and I’m happy to have his experience next to me on the flight deck. Second Officer Ross Hales has been at Qantas for less than twelve months and on the Airbus A330 fleet for six months. His flying experience was built in general aviation, flying throughout Western Australia and the Northern Territory, and he’s a mature and calm operator. I would hate to face off against him on the footy field. He’s a strapping young lad.

Like me, these pilots are in the career of their dreams and enjoying their passion for aviation. They also know I calmly handle everything that’s thrown my way, but they can’t suppress their Aussie sarcasm.

We all laugh, then get back to business.

It’s 7 October 2008, and for me, the captain of Qantas Flight 72, life is at its peak. I’m fifty-three years old, a captain in a profitable international airline with a good salary, and continuing my passion for flying as a commercial pilot.

*

The day before, I flew with Pete and Ross from Brisbane to Singapore. We’d never flown together before this trip; such is the nature of commercial flying. However, our company’s standardised approach to procedure ensures we work efficiently together regardless and we immediately got along. We shared some satays and a beer or two the night before our flight, and this helped to solidify our team. Is there anything beer can’t do?

We were up at eight and met in the hotel lobby, relaxed and well rested. I nominated myself to fly the first sector down to Perth. It was going to be a long-duty day as we were scheduled to return to Singapore that evening. Ross followed my lead and we left our luggage at the hotel.

In our staff minibus on the way to the airport, I walked down the aisle introducing myself as the captain and shaking hands with my cabin crew. There was a familiar face or two, but for the most part I hadn’t flown with them before.

I do this before every flight: make contact with the crew so they can see who I am. I’m in a leadership position and I’m forming my team – after all, if the shit hits the fan, I want to see who’s going to open the doors in an evacuation. I also instruct them as a group that ‘no one gets hurt today’, as I brief them on any expected turbulence encounters. I’m responsible for their safety, and I reinforce that responsibility by stating I’ll do my part to ensure we all walk off at the end of the flight intact.

On the minibus I introduced myself to my Sydney-based flight attendants Kimberly, Rory, Alia and Jill, and to Lisa, the customer service manager.

I asked Rory who he’d bribed to be rostered with four lovely ladies. In his South Australian twang he said they were lucky to be flying with a good bloke like him. The ladies unleashed some playful abuse in response causing Rory to slide down in his seat with a smirk.

Lisa and I had flown together a year or two before. Recently, she’d been promoted to her current supervisory position. She was very professional during our briefing and we refrained from slipping into any banter. We talked about the particulars of our sector to Perth, including the flight time and any special handling requirements she might have. She advised me that the passenger load was full – in fact, it was oversold in economy class – but there would probably be some Qantas staff waiting at the airport check-in area, trying to get home.

‘I’ve got a note from the airport staff. Lots of staff travellers trying to get back to Oz. Some have been here all week trying to get out,’ Lisa said.

‘Ah, the joys of staff travel. Can we help them?’ I asked.

‘Of course. Our crew rest seats are available and I will manage it once we get airborne.’

We’d do our best to get a few of them on our flight, and the offer of the crew’s rest seats would allow us to do just that.

Sitting in the rear of the bus were four crew members from the Auckland base. Although they wore the Qantas uniform, they were employed by Jetconnect, a wholly owned Qantas subsidiary company based in New Zealand.

I met Fuzzy Maiava, a senior flight attendant from Auckland who was built like a rugby forward. He had an infectious smile and warmly greeted me with a crushing handshake. Softly spoken, he’s the type of person you like immediately. With him were Samantha, Tasha and Jen, three young Auckland-based flight attendants who meekly shook my offered hand. They were in their early twenties and looked so young to me.

I finished my briefing and returned to my seat. My team was formed; nine cabin crew and three pilots, relaxed and ready to work.

As expected, the airport check-in area was buzzing with passengers, and a large group of airline staff members had gathered near the standby desk, trying to get home. As we entered, they gave us anxious looks. Some had been trying to leave Singapore for several days, but the flights had been full without much room for them travelling on their low-priority standby tickets. These travel experiences took the glitter off the perceived benefits of cheap travel for airline employees; these people were all desperate to get home to Australia. As planned, I asked Lisa to coordinate with the airport staff to take some of them with us.

Ross, Pete and I made our way to the briefing office to prepare for the flight. It would take four hours and forty-five minutes, the weather was forecast to be fine for our arrival, and I noted the aircraft’s rego letters: ‘VH-QPA’.

The three of us decided, on my recommendation, to order some extra fuel to cover any unforeseen events once we reached Perth. Aviation is all about managing risk, and I always treat this airport as isolated because there are no others in close vicinity.

All of our flights are required to be planned with suitable contingency airports. Our flight plan used Learmonth, a shared military and general aviation airfield, for mandatory point-of-no-return planning. It provides a point between the two airports to permit a divert decision if Perth weather or airport operational issues prevent us from proceeding. The extra fuel provides extra time to deal with anything out of the ordinary.

With the flight plan safely stowed in Ross’s bag, the three of us headed to our aircraft. The A330 was buzzing with activity as we entered the cabin. The crew were inspecting their safety equipment and stowing the heavy metal food carts in the galleys. Before heading to the cockpit, I got an update from Lisa about the extra staff passengers and gave her clearance to start boarding the aircraft once they were ready.

In the cockpit, I took my place in the left seat. Pete, Ross and I performed our usual procedures to prepare the aircraft for flight.

Our workplace is unique; it’s highly automated and deceptively simple in its design. The cockpit instrument and side panels are coloured a light blue. Directly in front of me are the two main electronic flight displays, which are repeated on the right for the first officer, and in the centre are two screens to display the engine instruments (upper) and the various aircraft systems (lower).

The left display, known as the primary flight display, projects the basic performance instrumentation a pilot needs to fly and control the aircraft. In the centre is the artificial horizon that bisects the display. Superimposed are the horizontal hash marks depicting nose attitude above and below the horizon in five degree increments. The sky is coloured blue and brown represents the ground. As the aircraft climbs and descends, the amount of blue and brown changes accordingly, and the pilot can reference the angle of the nose in relation to the horizon using the attitude markings. Superimposed across the centre of the display are the artificial yellow wings of the aircraft. The vertical tapes on either side are the speed (left) and altitude (right).

Inboard from the primary display is the navigation display. It’s a little like your car’s map and GPS system, and it projects a god’s-eye view of the aircraft’s path along the flight plan from departure point to destination. It also displays weather radar information and ground-based navigation aids. (These integrated displays have replaced the round instrument dials used in earlier-generation aircraft.)

Across the top of this array is a slim instrument panel housing a set of control buttons and selector knobs. These are used by the pilot to set speed, heading and altitude targets on the primary display when flying manually, and also to engage either of the aircraft’s two autopilots. With an autopilot engaged, these selector knobs allow the pilot to control the aircraft’s performance in speed, heading and altitude.

This panel also contains the master caution and master warning lights. These may look like small unassuming recessed pushbuttons, but they are critically important. The master caution light and switch will glow amber to alert us to a system fault. The master warning will illuminate red for more significant failures of equipment and critical systems. We hope we don’t see their coloured lights at any time today.

The centre instrument panels contain the engine thrust (or power) levers, the engine fuel controls, the flaps and the speed-brake handle. On either side, close to the pilot’s inboard knee, are the computer keyboards used to key in navigation and performance figures, as well as independent radio control panels.

Between the thrust levers and the keyboards are the two large trim wheels. Conventionally, as an aircraft increases speed, the pitch (or nose) of the plane wants to move up. The pilot uses a small switch on the control yoke to trim the tail down to counteract this force. The opposite is true for a speed reduction. It’s like sailors on a boat, trimming the sails to relieve rudder pressure for the skipper.

Airbus has automated this function and the tail is automatically trimmed as the aircraft changes speed. The trim wheels are silently working to keep the aircraft in trim. These wheels can also be moved manually if the auto function is not available.

Above the pilot’s head are the aircraft’s systems control panels. All the support systems live here, such as fuel, air-conditioning, pressurisation and hydraulics. Their control switches are very simple – on, off or auto – and these push-button switches disguise the high level of automation and computer control that governs their operation.

On either side of the pilot’s seat is a control sidestick. This has replaced the traditional control ‘yoke’, and is used by the pilot for manual control of the aircraft through the aircraft’s fly-by-wire control system. This is the next generation of flight control. The pilot’s control stick or column is no longer mechanically connected to the control surfaces on the wings or tail; rather, it’s electrically connected to dedicated flight-control computers that move the controls in response to the pilot’s requested input. The pilot, when flying the aircraft with or without the autopilot engaged, is interacting directly with a computer programmed to keep the plane operating safely.

There are three primary flight control computers (PRIMs) and two secondary computers (SECs) that make up the electronic flight control system. The overhead panel houses the control switches for the PRIMs and the SECs, while the actual com...