Tag Archives: careers

When It’s Just Not Worth It to Fly

Posted on by
Comment

Turning down flying jobs.

I really don’t like cheap clients.

Anyone who operates an aviation business knows exactly what I mean. They’re the folks that expect you to fly for what they see as just above your cost. The way they see it, even though that rate is far below what you normally ask, you’re still making money, so you should be happy.

[What’s even worse than cheap clients who are trying to get flight time for less than cost is the wanna be clients who want you to fly them around for free. I wrote about one of those in my post, “You want WHAT for free?“]

Unfortunately, their idea of your “cost” is the price of fuel times the number of gallons per hour that you burn. As I detailed in my posts, “How do you make a million dollars in aviation?” and “How Much, How Long?,” fuel is just one part of the cost of operating an aircraft. And it doesn’t even account for 1/3 the cost.

I’ve had a number of these clients in the past and I always came up with some kind of compromise, just to get their business. The compromise was normally more than they wanted to pay but less than I usually charge. In many cases, I wound up giving away so much — usually in ferry time — that the job was operated on a break-even basis. I told myself that it was worth it to get a client that would give me business in the future. But in most instances, any future business involved the same kind of compromises. Even though I was getting compensated for the cost of the flight, I wasn’t getting compensated for my time.

And I’ve come to realize that my time is the most valuable thing I have to offer anyone.

So this week, after going back and forth with a past client, trying to come up with a deal that would satisfy both of us, we hit a wall where neither of us would budge. The job was in Nevada, which is a 3 hour flight from my home base in Wickenburg, AZ or my end-of-summer base in Page, AZ. That’s 3 hours each way. I offered to eat half the ferry time — that’s 3 hours — if he paid the other half at a reduced rate ($495/hour) and guaranteed at least 4 hours of photo flight time at my regular photo flight rate (currently $595/hour). The cost to him for 10 hours of flight time (including the 6 hours of ferry time) would have been a measly $3,865, saving him about $1,500. When I ran the numbers after I’d sent him the rates (very dumb), my first thought was, what was I thinking?

I was lucky that he refused to guarantee the 4 hours. I would have spent 6 hours flying through hot desert — the job was in August — just to get there and back. I would have done the job in hot desert, flying heavy because fuel options were limited, beating the hell out of my aircraft and myself to get the videographer in the right places to make his high-action shots. I would have to eat the cost of hotel accommodations for at least one night. And I’d have my aircraft offline for other work for about two days.

All for a net over known costs that was less than what I was saving him with my compromise offer.

I talked to a pilot friend about this yesterday. His business is remarkably like mine, although he does more photo work and I do more tour work. We swapped stories about cheap clients and cheap client wannabes.

Then he told me his take on price compromises. If there wasn’t much money in a job, he considered what he could be doing with his time if he weren’t doing the job. Hanging out with friends — maybe flying with them. Relaxing with his family. Doing things he wanted to do.

And I realized that I’d definitely done the right thing when I stood my ground. The job simply wasn’t worth flying. Maybe I’d have other paying work and maybe I wouldn’t. But I’d be spending my time in a way that I wanted to, rather than giving away my services for next to nothing.

Life’s short. Business is business.

Forecast Calls for More Days Off

Posted on by
Comment

And I can’t decide if I should be happy about this.

Sounds great, doesn’t it? A job that guarantees days off, with some pay, whenever the weather is good.

Today is the third day in a row that I’m facing a beautiful day with absolutely no chance of rain. And here’s what’s coming up in the forecast:
This Week's Forecast

If this forecast doesn’t change, it looks like I have the next five days off.

But I didn’t come up here to have a paid vacation. I came up here to fly, to build new skills and learn more about agricultural flying. And although I’m being paid a perfectly satisfactory standby pay, I would make a lot more if I got to fly. And due to the nature of this job, I won’t be flying unless it rains.

Join me in hoping for two rainy days here each week. That’s all I want.

Tip of the Hat, Wag of the Finger: Fuel Tank Edition

Posted on by
Comment

How two companies make things harder and another tries to fix their problems.

While most folks seem very impressed with the income potential of my summer cherry drying gigs this year, no one seems to have considered the startup costs of this endeavor. Sure, I already had the helicopter, but there were other investments necessary to get started this first season. For example, I had to cough up another $8K for insurance that would cover cherry drying (and I’ll have to do this every year), $800 for a helmet, and another $150 for a Nomex flight suit. I also had to buy a pickup truck and have a fuel tank and pump installed.

The Truck and Tank

Redneck Truck with Fuel TankIf you follow this blog, you already know about my new old truck. It’s a 1994 Ford F150 with 4WD. It has just enough power to pull my travel trailer and its short bed was just large enough to fit a DOT-legal fuel tank between the wheel wells and the cab.

On the recommendation of another cherry drying pilot, I purchased an 82-gallon tank from Company X. (No, that’s not their real name. The average reader here doesn’t need to know. I can provide specifics to people who really need it.) Two of the features of this tank were a built-in suction pipe and a cutout notch that positioned the fuel pump below the tank’s top. Rather than buy the pump, hose, and nozzle that my friend bought, I though I’d make it easy by buying the complete pump/hose/nozzle setup that Company X sold with it. To my way of thinking, this would guarantee that the pieces all fit together and that they’d work. The pump setup was made by Company Y. Then, to make sure it was all set up properly with the special aviation fuel filter I needed, I figured I’d get it set up by a company that specialized in aviation fuel systems, Company Z based in nearby Peoria, AZ.

Mike and I ordered the tank and other parts and took delivery of it. We then spent most of a morning installing the tank on the truck. It required a lot of drilling through the truck bed and the purchase of extra long bolts because of the bed mats in the back of the truck. Mike did an excellent job. That 300+ pound tank wasn’t going anywhere without the truck.

Company Z Installs the Pump

I made an appointment with Company Z to get the pump, etc. installed with a filter and grounding cable. I was told to bring it down in the morning.

I should comment here that I know the owner of Company Z. He had done some work for us at Wickenburg Airport when I owned the FBO. I never had any complaints about his work. We’d always gotten along well and I felt comfortable giving him my business.

I made the 40-mile drive and was introduced to the guy who would be doing the work. I dont’ remember his name. We’ll call him Joe. He seemed a bit goofy, but I didn’t think anything about it. I asked him how long it would take and he said, “a few hours.” We talked about testing it afterward by driving it over to Glendale Airport and filling it up with AvGas.

There was a strip mall nearby and one of the women who worked there kindly drove me over. I figured I’d spend the waiting time picking up a few things for my trip.

About 30 minutes later, Joe called. He was done. I was shocked. He said he’d come pick me up and I told him where I was. But when he arrived, it was in his truck, not mine. I thought we’d go right to GEU to test it out, but apparently, he wanted to go back to his workshop first.

Good thing we did. All he did was put the pump and hose and flow meter on the tank. The aviation fuel filter, which is what I’d come there primarily to get, was not installed. The static line wasn’t installed either. He’d basically done everything that Mike and I could have done on our own.

I held my temper and reminded him that I’d come for the fuel filter and static line. That he hadn’t done anything that we couldn’t have done ourselves.

“Oh,” he said. “I was wondering why you came to us.”

Evidently, there was no internal communication in the company. Rather than ask me what I wanted, he just assumed that I wanted the pump pieces in the box I’d brought installed.

I waited in the office while he installed the filter and a static line with a clip. He came out multiple times to ask me about the size of the filter (there were two sizes), the length of the static line, the type of clip, and whether I wanted a reel for the hose or the line. Each time he came out to ask a question, I felt a little more of my patience slipping away. I’d been there more than two hours. I’d come down to get the system professionally installed and wasn’t happy about the work being done by someone who appeared to be a moron.

So when he finished and tried to sell me stickers for the tank that didn’t fit, I was ready to get out of there. The installation looked fine. I was not interested in spending any more time with him. I was also not interested in putting 82 gallons of AvGas into a tank that I’d be driving 1300 miles. I thanked him and asked about payment. I was told I’d be billed. He asked if I wanted to test it and I told him I didn’t.

That was my second mistake with Company Z. The first mistake had been going to them in the first place, as you’ll see shortly.

For the record, Joe never told me that it was company policy to test all installations. He didn’t press me to test it at all. He seemed perfectly happy that I was going to leave without testing it.

We [Try to] Test the Tank

Before leaving Wickenburg, Mike and I attempted to test the tank. I had some fuel in gas cans in my hangar that I needed to use up, so we poured that in. The pump wouldn’t suck. We added another 10 gallons. The pump still wouldn’t suck. We looked at the manual and followed the instructions for priming the pump. It still wouldn’t suck. We assumed that the pump wouldn’t suck because there wasn’t enough fuel in the tank to prime it properly. Since I wasn’t prepared to lug 82 gallons of AvGas up to Washington State, we stopped testing.

It turned out, we were wrong.

I [Try to] Fill the Tank

Fast forward a week or so. It’s Thursday I’ve settled in at the campground in Quincy, WA and my cherry drying contracts are due to start within a few days. I needed to fill the tank. I drove out to Ephrata where there’s a bulk fuel provider who has been recommended to me by (oddly enough) the same pilot who advised me on the tank. I set up an account, then pulled over to the pump to get filled up. I already had 20 gallons in the tank from my aborted tests. When the meter said they’d added another 53.1 gallons, we noticed that fuel was leaking out of the fitting between the pump and the tank.

Leaking is actually a weak word. It was almost gushing out. All over the back of my truck. Fuel that I was paying $5.35/gallon for.

They stopped pumping and got some spill rags to soak it up. I hurriedly paid up. They gave me the information for a guy in Moses Lake, which is 18 miles south, who could fix it. I stopped at an auto parts store and got a 5-gallon plastic gas can. I used a siphon hose that I happened to have in the truck to suck 5 gallons out so the fuel level was below the leaky fitting. Then I drove down to Moses Lake.

How Company Z Screwed Up

Pump PlugThe guy in Moses Lake, Don, removed the pump and laughed. “Here’s part of your problem,” he said. And he pointed to the bright red plastic plug in the bottom of the pump — the plug that Moron Joe had neglected to remove when he installed the pump. “And there should be a gasket or something here,” he said, pointing inside the fitting. We looked at the paperwork for the tank and pump. There’s an exploded view parts diagram. Sure enough, the gasket that’s supposed to go inside the fitting was missing.

So much for a professional installation by a company that should know how to get the job done right.

Don went through his stock of gaskets and tried to find one that would fit. He found one, slipped it in, fastened it down, and tried the pump. It still leaked.

I got on the phone and called Company Y, the maker of the pump. I told them that the gasket was not installed and that I’m not sure whether it’s because the moron who set up the pump lost it or it was never in the box. It’s a $1.20 part. I offered a credit card. The guy on the phone said he’ll just mail it to me. I gave him my General Delivery address in Quincy and hung up.

Don put a cap where the pump should go so I wouldn’t lose any more fuel. We laid the pump assembly in the bed of the truck, wrapping the spill rags around it. I paid Don $53 for his time and started the 50-mile drive back to Quincy.

How Company Z Loses Me as a Customer

I called my contact at Company Z to complain about his moron worker. I had to leave a message. When he called back, he was on the offensive. He claimed that it’s company policy to test all installations. He claimed that his guy had said I insisted on leaving without testing it.

I told him that wasn’t the case, that his guy had never told me it was company policy. I also told him that his guy was a moron for leaving the plug in. Then I said, “I can see where this is going. You don’t give a shit about this. Don’t expect to hear from me again.”

His response: “Thanks.”

My comeback cannot be printed.

Too bad I paid them promptly. Between the $250+ I’d paid them, the $53 I paid Don, the 3 to 5 gallons of AvGas I’d lost, and the fuel for the drive to Moses Lake and back, he’d cost me close to $400 — and the system didn’t work.

How Company X Screwed Up

The post office in Quincy is closed on Saturday. On Monday, the gasket still hadn’t arrived. I called Company Y to confirm that they’ve sent it.

I talked to another guy, Brian. After a discussion of the situation, he said, “Is the pump lower than the top of the tank?”

I confirmed that it is.

“Well, that pump isn’t designed to be mounted below the tank fill level. The gasket is designed to prevent leakage due to sloshing, not to the pressure of fuel above it.”

And that’s when I realized that Company X had sold me a pump that wasn’t designed to work with their tank.

Brian and I discussed this some more. He asked me questions about the tank configuration. He seemed surprised that there was a built-in suction tube and that the connection at the top of the outflow was male threaded rather than female threaded. I think that for a few minutes, he simply didn’t believe me. But after I answered a few more questions, he realized that I did indeed know what I was talking about. He asked for the phone number for Company X and I gave it to him.

How Company Y [Hopefully] Saves the Day

My cherry-drying contract requires that I have fuel available at my base. Fortunately, the cherry blocks for my early contracts are only 12-14 miles from Wenatchee, where there’s fuel at the airport. I can carry 3 hours worth of fuel in the helicopter. Until I got the tank fixed, I figured that I’d top off the tank in the helicopter and then refuel at Wenatchee when I needed to. So I flew the helicopter to Ephrata, which is only 15 miles from Quincy Airport, and topped off the tanks. It was a .2 hour flight back to Quincy, so I still had nearly 3 hours of fuel on board.

Tuesday was rainy and cold. I spent most of the morning at the airport, ready to pull out the helicopter and launch if I got a call from a grower. That didn’t happen. But I did get a call from Brian at Company Y.

He’d spoken extensively with both the support people at Company X and his own technicians. They’d decided that if I added a second, different type of gasket to the fitting, the pump should fit without leaking. He was sending me the two gaskets that day.

As I type this, the gaskets have still not arrived. It’s only Wednesday, though. I expect them to get here tomorrow. (Fortunately, the weather looks great for the next few days, so I don’t expect to need to fly.) I’m pretty sure they’ll work. I’m also pretty sure that if they don’t, I can depend on Company Y for further assistance.

Tip of the hat to them. Wag of the finger to the others.

Why I Look for Summer Jobs

Posted on by
Comment

It’s not the money — it’s the challenge.

I’m one of the few people I know who is on the cusp of two careers.

My second career, as a freelance writer, has kept me busy since 1990, writing books and articles about using computers. It’s a great career for me, mostly because the work seems to come naturally, so it isn’t very difficult, and because I get to buy a lot of cool computer toys to write about. (Of course, it would be better if someone just gave me those toys, but at least I have legitimate writeoffs.) But as printed publishing begins to wane and the computer users throughout the world mature beyond the need for beginner to intermediate books, my writing opportunities fade. I’ve embraced new media like ebooks and digital training via screencasts, but I believe my heydays as a computer how-to author are over. Sure, I can continue to move forward and earn a comfortable living, but it just isn’t the same as it was — for more reasons than I’m willing to discuss here.

MariaAndHelicopterMy third career, as a helicopter pilot, began to get interesting back in 2001, when I got my commercial rating. That’s when I was allowed to fly for hire. In 2005, when I took delivery of my Robinson R44 Raven II and got my FAA Part 135 Certificate, things really took off — if you’ll pardon the pun. In addition to the tour and air-taxi work I get primarily out of the Phoenix area — if I had to do all my flights from Wickenburg, I’d starve — I also get a great variety of other challenging jobs: aerial photography, search, survey, etc. Not only does this keep the flying work interesting, but it’s enough to cover all the costs of owning and operating the helicopter. Lately, it’s even been earning a tiny profit.

The two careers fit perfectly together. I don’t hang out at an office at the airport, waiting for people to come in. (I almost got an airport office here in town. Fortunately, I had enough brains to turn down that opportunity.) Instead, I go about my writing business until the phone rings. Then, when the flight is scheduled, I put down whatever I was working on, head out to the airport, preflight, pull the helicopter out, fuel up, and take care of business. When I’m done, I put everything away and come back to my office to continue work. Or to take the rest of the day off.

Summer Jobs

Captain MariaI got my first “summer job” as a pilot working at the Grand Canyon in 2004. I wanted a new experience — and I got it. I also got the benefits and drawbacks of working as an employee, which is something I hadn’t experienced since 1989 when I left my last “real” job to go freelance. Benefits: steady paycheck, social interaction, learning new skills with guidance (as opposed to self-teaching). Drawbacks: fixed work day and work week, social interaction, company politics, relatively low pay.

I need to comment here on the low pay aspect of that job, since so many people seem to zero in on it. For me, it was low pay because I could make a lot more doing my other work. In fact, sometimes I did. For example, if I were a “spare” pilot who was not scheduled to fly except perhaps at lunchtime, I’d bring along my laptop and spend the day writing articles for one of my editors. If I knocked off just two articles in a day — which I could easily do — I’d earn just as much as I would flying for an entire week. And since I was accustomed to making more money, I had to keep doing my other work to maintain my standard of living. So on my weeks off from the Canyon, I’d come home and work on a book. Frankly, just about all of my pay from that summer job went to paying my income taxes on my other job.

This year, I’m flying in Washington state, doing some cherry drying. Because I’m operating my own aircraft and have a lot of associated expenses, the pay is much better — as long as I can collect it. So pay is not an issue. The work is challenging — I’ll be getting some special training in advance — and even a bit dangerous — I’ll be wearing a helmet and Nomex flight suit. And I’ll be living in a trailer either with or without a hookup, far from home and family and friends.

At the same time, I’m scheduled to write two books, one of which is a revision. Those two books are likely to earn me the same amount of money that the whole season in Washington earns me.

Why Bother?

So you might wonder: why bother?

These summer flying jobs offer benefits that I couldn’t get any other way: regular work that comes with a paycheck and tasks that challenge me to perform beyond what I normally do. By meeting these challenges, I learn and perfect skills.

The regular work part is a no-brainer. If I stayed here in Wickenburg for the summer, I’d have to deal with the brutal heat. Would you want to fly in an un-airconditioned aircraft when it’s 110°F outside? (That’s about 41°C for you metric folks out there.) I’ve done it and I don’t want to do it any more than I have to. And most potential passengers are smart — they know that summer heat is not just uncomfortable, but it causes turbulence that makes for a rough ride. So not only are you slow-roasting under a plastic magnifying glass-like bubble, but you’re being bounced around enough to make you sick. And it isn’t as if there’s a lot of this work. Last July I only had one paying gig that didn’t even take in enough money to cover my helicopter loan payment.

So if it’s regular work I’m after, leaving the area is the obvious solution. But it’s the challenges that I really want.

Flying at the Grand Canyon in the summer of 2004 taught me more about flying in wind, high density altitude, and poor visibility than any other flying I’d done up to that point. I’ve used those skills numerous times since then to operate in conditions far windier than I would have without that experience and to safely make my way through questionable weather conditions. I also picked up tips about ground safety, passenger briefings, and just dealing with passengers, as well as the entire business of flightseeing.

This year, I’m entering a whole new world of agricultural flying. It’s more precise, more dangerous, more lonely. My first field has 108 acres. Depending on how the grower wants me to fly, it’ll take 2 to 3 hours to dry it all. That’s 2 to 3 hours hovering over the tops of trees, flying a precision pattern at a constant speed and altitude. When this is over, I expect to be able to hover in any direction in almost any condition. That could set me up for other agricultural work, like frost control or possibly even spraying.

This is why I look for summer jobs. To learn more and to develop my flying skills.

Career Pilots Need to Get Serious

And I think this is why I always advise new pilots to include a season at the Grand Canyon or some other challenging environment as part of their career path. Sure, a pilot could build 2,000 hours as CFI working at or near sea level in a place where the weather is close to perfect. But what skills — beyond autorotations and other emergency maneuvers — would that build? It’s the challenging work that pilots should be hunting down. The flying that takes them to the next level.

The flying that makes them better pilots.