Flying for Eastern of course, NY to Bermuda 1986. We have a 24 hour layover, staying at a beautiful 4 star hotel. I spend hours frolicking on the beach and swimming.
At night the pilots and flight attendants meet up at the hotel bar. We proceed to do what pilots do, drink and be naughty! The Captain falls for this hotel guest. And they disappear to his room.
Next morning 0900 show at airport for return to JFK. We are loaded with 168 passengers. Captain is late, been in the terminal on the phone with the women he slept with last night.
Captain finally plops down in his seat,,looks back at the Flight Engineer and says hey what is the B system pressure at? FE says 3200Psi Captain.
Captain says pull the manual, cuz I believe the limit is 3150. Anybody in aviation knows High hydraulic pressure is never an issue. Just a transducer. Now I know what he is up to.
He wants to stay and spend more time with this woman. And he knows damn well they don't have the parts in Bermuda to fix it.
So maintenance dinks around for a couple hours, with 168 very pissed passengers on board.
Then on cue the Captain looks at his watch and says "damn, looks like we are out of FAA duty time! Scrub the flight".
The Airline puts up all the Passengers at the same 4 Star hotel, at $400 a night. They don't seem to mind at all, they are wined and dined. We party with many of them.
It took 36 hours for them to find this little transducer in Miami and have it flown up by Learjet. We had a ball. Captain got satisfied.
Now this debacle does not end here. 36 hours pass, with crew and passengers now in multiple buses headed back to the airport.
We prep the cockpit and finish our paperwork as the mechanics finalizes the transducer maintenance bit. Passengers waiting anxiously now, peering out of the terminal windows.
Most have partied themselves silly and really need to get back to life and work in the states.
I for one am cutting into my off days back in Seattle and still got a hell of a commute from New York. I miss my wife and kids!
Lead Mechanic comes up to the cockpit. He says " Power it up Captain, and throw on that "B" pump!".
Sure as I drink too damn much, pressure is still at 3200 psi! The Captain gets the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.
To cut through it all, we spent 6 days in Bermuda and I did not see Seattle or my family for 2 weeks.
3 cluster-fuck filled false alarms with incorrect parts ferried in from various points around the globe.
I wonder if the maintenance lapses could be tied to the fact the mechanics were drunk at the hotel bar with us every night?
Didn't see much of the Captain those days, no rocket- science involved there.
It just could not have gone more wrong.
Fun you ask? You bet your sweet bippy!