Another test

Three days later, the phone rang. Same 902 area code. Jazz was calling to schedule me for Stage 2, a check in a flight simulator. It can’t be. This can’t be real. I floated around in a haze for the rest of the day.

I was almost dispatched for Jamaica for a new job that same week. For once, I was hoping not to be sent to the Caribbean. Fortunately the job was postponed, and I headed back out to Pearson for my simulator check on Saturday evening.

I had done my research. I knew what to expect. Fortunately, it wasn’t the kind of check I could really study for. An instructor named Dan Holme fetched me from the waiting lounge at CAE. I was placed in front of a mock-up instrument panel of a Dash-8, the aircraft I was being interviewed for. He handed me a script and told me I had 45 minutes to look it over and memorize the calls and speeds. I would be flying, but was not being graded on the flying itself. They would be looking for ability to learn, personality, and how much improvement I showed from the start of the session to the end.

The simulator was amazing. It looked just like the front of the Dash-8’s I’d seen, peeking through the flight deck door before takeoff. It had full wraparound screens with semi-lifelike scenery. It was full-motion and was over 2 storeys high, mounted on long hydraulic legs. It probably cost as much as a real Dash-8.

The trip was unremarkable. I was not permitted to use the autopilot. We took off from Montreal, did a steep turn, then was given a hold clearance which I initially got upside down (but corrected). After the hold I flew onto a non-precision approach, then was given a go-around. During the climb, an engine lit on fire. My “copilot” shut the engine down and came back for a single-engine ILS. And that was it.

My trusty copilot and the two observers in the back said, “Of course, we can’t tell you how you did,” but they did seem happy with me. I felt all right about the whole thing.

Until I started driving away.

The farther I drove, the worse I felt. I kept thinking about that hold clearance I got wrong. Or how I didn’t really have a holding briefing, since I never worked with a second crew-member before. And on and on.

So, when I got home, I went through the same routine. Hid the business clothes back in the closet, put the portfolio back in the bookcase, and again tried to forget it ever happened.