Amiram Hayardeny's My China Experience

May You Have Boring Flights...

It all started very promising.  I was one of the first on the check-in line at the United Airlines counter here in Beijing.  A very nice, courteous and efficient attendant checked me in at a record time, and she even gave me the emergency exit row seat that I asked for.  Immigration was a breeze and security was a walk in the park.  Inside the terminal I settled down and did some business reading, then some private iPod listening, and just before boarding, I was reading the last pages of the “Last Templar” by Raymond Khoury – highly recommended.

Even boarding was exceptionally smooth.  All passengers were seated long before the scheduled take-off time.  It was quiet, well aired.  I was looking forward to another uneventful, smooth flight to San Francisco.

Just before 12:00, the scheduled departure time, there was a short, innocent, unimportant announcement by the captain.  He said that “one of the crew's oxygen masks was found broken”, and added that “we are still planning an on-time departure”.  Nobody paid attention and life went on.  Until 12:00.  Then the announcement changed slightly and stated that they are canvassing the airport for other 747s, which may have a spare spare mask.  He said it will take only a few minutes, and we would still depart shortly.  For those who gave a damn, he added that United has a maintenance office in Narita airport in Tokyo, and that a spare mask would be aired in later that day, for the robbed airplane that is.

But unfortunately, there was no mask to be found throughout the airport, and plan B was put into action.  In plan B, the captain stated, a few United flights were to land in Beijing in the coming hours.  One from Washington DC, another from Chicago and another one from San Francisco.  They became the next in line candidates for robbing an oxygen mask.  We were now two hours late for departure.  The mask was found, placed and everything checked normal, and we now were faced with a new hurtle.  The line, or the queue as he chose to call it.  We were number nine for departure.  About 90 minutes later we became number three.

Then it went from bad to worse.  A passenger was feeling sick, there was no doctor on board, no nurses either.  A ground medical crew had to be called in.  When they were done, they promptly charged the sick person RMB 60.00 for the service (about $8.00).  I was beginning to feel like I desperately wanted to be, well, elsewhere.  But the medical emergency cleared, and we were happy that the guy looked just fine, and we were ready to go.  Oops, we missed our slot for take-off.  Remember, we were number nine and then three?  We were down to about minus two now.

At this point, the rest of the facade, that the crew was trying to put up for us disappeared, and things quickly collapsed.  The crew announced a walk-off.  On the loudspeakers they stated that since they care about the passengers so much, they want to be prepared to give them their absolute best, which will be impossible if they are on their feet for way more than the reasonable time stated in their contract.  A flight attendant who was watching the door next to my emergency exit post, told me that United had robbed them of their salary, their pension, the vacation days, and even deducted $5.00 per hour from their pay.  All they are left with is their dignity and their contracts, to the letter.

(Don't get me wrong, this isn't criticism.  There are FAA rules for air crews, they are reasonable and they are made to protect the safety of the passengers.  I am confident that if United Airlines had its way, the crews would leave the airplanes twice a year for Christmas and Easter).

Let me just remind you, that at this time, people have been sitting in the plane for roughly five hours, with no food.  I respect fasting, and God knows I could use a good fast every so often.  But I wasn't about to start one today.  I was starved.  And so were others.  Someone had asked me, only half jokingly, whether a mutiny was a possibility...

We deplaned (left the aircraft) five hours after it was supposed to take off.  It was warm, stuffy, and truthfully, it had the odor of many people stuck together in close quarters.  Disgusting.  As I am writing this, we are back from our late lunch (early dinner is more like it).  A new crew, which was stolen from a later flight is aboard the aircraft, and we're waiting.  But there isn't a single person here on board, who believes a single word coming from the crew anymore.  The first crew lost its credibility long ago, and the new one hadn't earned it yet...

Yes, and the guy sitting next to me should audition for a part on CSI.  Judging by stench, he should easily qualify for a three day old cadaver...

It's a few hours later, and we are indeed in the air.  We took off more than seven hours late.  Three hundred annoyed people, one fresh crew, one troubled airline.

Rolling disasters are interesting phenomena.  They usually start as a small problem, which grows and grows, and then becomes a serious and possibly dangerous threat.  There are things to be learned here.  One is rather simple.  Credibility is very necessary in the later stages of rolling disasters, it is unwise to lose it in the early stages.  The crew promised an update every fifteen minutes until departure.  But they haven't kept the promise.  The result was frustration and disbelief.

Here's a question: the airplane was on the ground for hours before the captain walked in and saw the broken equipment.  Could it have been detected and fixed even before boarding?

Posted at 09:34AM Sep 17, 2007 by Amiram Hayardeny in Personal  |  Comments[2]