Brownie maths continued...

We don't end it there, Liz and I went on a spree to find out more about our brownie conundrum...

We weren't satisfied with knowing just a couple of good combinations, we wanted to know how one could work out the optimum number of slices for any brownies.

The maths:

If we assume a rectangular pan, and we divide the longest side into 'a' slices, then we need to work out how many slices we need to cut the shorter side into (we'll call this 'b') in order to have an equal number middle and edge slices (we'll call the number of middles 'm' and the number of edges 'e' as we did before).

Now, we know that the number of edge peices is simply the circumference of our pan, so:

e = 2(a+b)-4      (adapted from our square-tin circumference equation)

We also know that the number of middle pieces is found by multiplying the sides, minus the ones that are touching the edges (ie, 2 per side) so:

m = (a-2)(b-2)

Now, we want the same middle as edge, so

             m = e

(a-2)(b-2) = 2(a+b)-4

So, if we solve this to calculate b for a given a:

Liz gets full credit for doing this. I cheated and consulted WolframAlpha, mostly to get the pretty pictures of the steps for solving the above.

The solution Liz (and then Wolfram) came to looked like this:

 And with a little tarting up, I present to you (drumroll please)

The Equation for Equating Brownie Edge and Middle Peices:

Notice, firstly, that there's no solution for having 4 slices on the longest side.

Oh, you want a graph of that? Really? Go on then:

Graph of middle:edge brownie equality for a rectangular tin:

x-axis: Slices on Longer side

y-axis: Slices on Shorter side

In this graph you can clearly see a few of our favourite combinations. 8x6 is on there, as is 12x5.

You can also clearly see that there's no whole-number solution below 4, and no solution at all at 4.

If we consider whole-number (discrete) solutions only, we can build the sequence:

1. 5 x 12
2. 6 x 8
3. 8 x 6
4. 12 x 5

And since 4 is not a solution, we've just defined our complete set of possible solutions. So if you want an equal number of edge to middle brownie slices, you have a choice of 48 or 60 brownies in a 8x6 or 12x5 configuration.

I'll stop maths-geeking out now, I promise...

Brownies...

To quash the allegations, I'm talking about the delicious baked cake-esque treat, not the club for delicious small girls. So there.

A discussion arose yesterday on the benefits of brownies - specifically the difference between "edge bits" and "middle bits".  Now, I'm a middle-bit man. I can't see the appeal of dried, crunchy, crusty edge bits of brownie when the whole point of a brownie is it's squidgy goodness. Alas, I have to concede that I'm in the minority, most people, when fighting for brownie will fight for the edge bits. Indeed, there's special tins to maximise the occurance of edges:

I can already hear the clamour of all you poor, misguided souls looking for a place to buy this small example of cooking geekery. Alas, there exists no 'edgeless' brownie tin (yet).

I am, however, lucky.

My wonderful girlfriend happens to be one of the edge-piece sheep, and so we can get along by my eating the middles bits, and her the outside, right? Surely this is an elegant solution that satisfies both parties? Wrong. We first have to devise a way of cutting up our brownie so that we each get an equal number of brownie pieces.

This leads to a veritable conundrum, how do we cut up our pan?

E = Edge, M=Middle

1x1
E  1 edge, no middle :/

2x2
E E
E E  4 edge, 0 middle

3x3:
E E E
E M E   8 edge, 1 middle (she's still fine with this, apparently)
E E E

4x4:
E E E E
E M M E
E M M E 12 edge, 4 middle (3:1, uncool)
E E E E


...I'm going to skip ahead here...


6x6:
E E E E E E
E M M M M E
E M M M M E
E M M M M E 20 edge, 16 middle (5:4, getting better...)
E M M M M E
E E E E E E


7x7:
E E E E E E E
E M M M M M E
E M M M M M E 24 edge, 25 middle (Ah-ha! we see the tables have turned..)
E M M M M M E
E M M M M M E
E M M M M M E
E E E E E E E


So, the switch happens between 6 and 7 to an edge. Of course, these are square tins. One can work out the ratio easily enough:


where n = length of a side, e = number of edge pieces and m = number of middle peices


e = 4n-4
m = (n-2)^2


And so if we declare that m = e, we can solve the above for n:


(n-2)^2 = 4n-4


<<GCSE MATHS MAGIC>>

n = 4+sqrt(8)   ~= 6.83



Now, I defy any of you to cut a pan exactly into 6.83 brownies a side. In the universal language of 4chan: Pics or GTFO.


Anyway, much more discussion was had before we had a dual revelation:


1: We don't have to have the same number on each side, and
2: Who the hell makes perfectly square baking tins anyway?!


This is game changing, and very quickly, we came to the magic number:


8x6:
E E E E E E E E
E M M M M M M E
E M M M M M M E 24 edge, 24 middle (Win!)
E M M M M M M E
E M M M M M M E
E E E E E E E E




So there you have it. If you find yourself in a situation where the ratio of edge to middle brownies is critical to the continuation of the human race, you're equipped with the tools to work it out. You can thank me later, preferably with baked goods.

EDIT

Miss Firefly_liz informs me that there's another magic ratio: 12x5.

Keep 'em coming! :)

Feral Marmot's Alan

Alan - Zoom-Blur, a photo by Mikebert4 on Flickr.

Just another snap of Alan from Feral Marmot - check out the cheesy zoom-blur.

Excellent morning session it was.

Large Stones and Angular Momentum

Good Morning all,

I apologise for my absence, I've been on holiday in Wales for a time - you'll get more on this later, but first let me tell you about my exploits before heading off to the hilly places.

On my way over to Suffolk to meet Liz and drag her off to Wales I stopped by at Chicksands Bike Park in Bedfordshire to get some riding and shooting done with Alan from Feral Marmot Films. It's always fun to get out to Chicksands with it's selection of marvellous freeride, downhill, cross-country, Dual Slalom and 4X courses.

The day started well (and late, but that was my fault). A couple of warm-up runs down the Dual Slalom and then it was over the back to the last descent of the XC course for some nice sedate shooting before lunch.

Wide-angle of me hitting one of the berms

More Photos can be found on Feral Marmot's Flickr and on their Facebook page (linked above).

Of course, Alan wasn't just behind the lens - I'd brought my camera along and so we got a few shots of Alan strutting his stuff on the same section...

Alan railing the same berm

More can be found on my Flickr


After a rather nice hour or so sedately shooting this little section of trail we decided to head over to the Bike Park proper and get some shooting done on the Dual Slalom and 4X tracks. Alas, the weather had different ideas and it was about this time that it started really chucking it down with rain.

It persisted it down.

We packed up the kit and in the absence of waterproofing gear, we high-tailed it back to the cars to dump it all. Unfortunately, it didn't stop raining for the next 2 hours. We made one forray back into the park during a light spell to see if anything was ridable given the shear volume of water that had just been dumped on it. Alas, whilst the DS course was navigable, it wasn't really conducive to any great speed or airborne shenagians. We had to abandon our day early, I headed onto Suffolk and Alan headed back to Peterborough and Feral Marmot HQ.

Still, it was a great, if slightly wet, day's shooting.

..that you believed in superstition

Blog time!

Why?

Good question, I'll tell you why.

I have 3 hours to kill at London City is why. I could've gone home, sure, I could have adopted a penguin. My point is, I didn't. I decided to kill time here (kill time, that is - not the penguin. Penguins are awesome).

Today and the next two days work a little like this:

1. Get up Way Too Early
2. Operate some Frankfurt/Zurich sectors
3. Wait
4 PROFIT! Position out to Frankfurt to nightstop.

Easy enough? Yeah, you'd think that, because it doesn't look to bad. Actually, you're right, it's a pretty easy tour. All I have to do is keep myself from spending monies on hotel food - or 'going out and eating' food. This shaln't be difficult because at the moment I have no money. I shall be a model of fiscal responsibility thanks to my rather appalling fiscal situation. I feel somewhat like the UK economy, in this respect.

Today's big gotcha was a problem with the aircraft I took to Zurich this morning - the autobrake had failed at some point during the night and so we were presented with the MEL sat on the centre console. If you learn one thing about airline flying, it's that opening up a flight deck to see the MEL open at a relevant page on the centre console is a big sign that your day just got more complicated in some way.

MEL - Minimum Equipment List.
A book that, counter-intuitively, lists everything that you can go without. It lists systems, items, failures etc that are acceptable to dispatch with and the special procedures you need to execute/complete to make the flight safe.
As a rule, if something is missing or broken and it's not in the MEL, you cannot go (it's not quite this simple - there's another list called the CDL and also the engineers can 'defer' some defects and you can still go). All sorts of things are in the MEL - for example you can fly without a winglet (vertical bit on the end of the wing) - so long as there's no passengers and you're flying back to a maintenance base, and several other things.

Stuff I've had in the past included having a engine bleed out (only half as much air conditioning) - meaning we couldn't fly above FL310 (31,000ft), and the Right-hand side MFD (Multi-Function Display - go go pointless acronyms!) - which is basically my screen with a map on it - meaning that any low-visability stuff had to be flown from the captain's side.

Today it was Autobrake. Dead easy. Brake Manually. I kid you not.

Other than that, an uneventful day. I shall now go back to aimlessly wandering around the internet in search of funnies.

tl;dr: Mike bored.

Aerobatics

Blade Extra 300LP, a photo by Mikebert4 on Flickr.

One day, I shall do this.

That is all.

...Before you wreckity-wreck yourself

Morning all.

This weekend I'm down at the Simulator in Gatwick. Scary thought, I've been in CityFlyer long enough to warrant my first 6-monthly check. I know that the check is on the early end of the window they have to get my check done and so it's not quite been six months. Regardless, I've really been flying long enough to have my first of many recurrent checks.

There are two kinds of recurrent checks - the Line Operating Proficency Check (LPC) and the Operator's Proficiency Check (OPC). The difference is fairly marked between the two:

The LPC is the full whack and covers everything you need to do to revalidate the Instrument Rating on your licence. This means it includes manually-flown single-engine approaches and go-arounds, EFATO (Engine Failure at TakeOff) and a couple of other bits aside - as well as covering some 'Three-yearly' items - like Rapid Descent drills, for example - things that need to be ticked off at least one every three years. At the end of the LPC paperwork gets sent off the the CAA and your licence gets signed off for another year of blasting around the continent/world in a fancy jet.

The OPC is a less intense affair, it's a check by the operator (in this case, BA CityFlyer) that you can still operate to company SOP's (Standard Operating Procedures). It involves an almost identical profile to the LPC with the exception that you can handle any situation as you would in real life - so the autopilot is always available and you can use all the wonderful gadgets and gizmos that the aircraft has to make your life easier. That said, it's still hard work and you still have to cope with a failure at takeoff or a rejected takeofff (and for added difficulty, we do these out of London City).


So, yesterday a Captain and I hopped in a hire car at City and drove down to Gatwick to undergo the above battery. His LPC, my OPC. Firstly, I have a damm fine captain for these details and so the nerves weren't such a problem as they might have been. We turn up at the Simulator building about 90 minutes ahead of time, giving us plenty of time to brief and discuss the details.

One thing I will say now is that if I power up the aircraft and the batteries are reading 21.2v I -will- go and get the manual and double-check the figures, but the minimum voltage is 22v, and if it's still above 21v you can recharge from any AC source (below 21v it's an engineering thing). I did not know this when asked. Great start there, Mike.

So, we were given a couple of 'standard' sectors to plan and associated weather to discuss and then it's off into the simulator box.

The sim is a very accurate mock-up of the flight deck of a E190, so it's very easy to slip into the roleplay. Started the engines, we were given a hot-start on #1 (temperatures sky-rocket and you have to abort the start) which we handled well enough then we were off.

Now, at this point I'd like to stress that on a check you are always, always, going to get either a rejected take-off or an engine failure. ALWAYS.

Why then, is it always such a damm surprise? We simulated flying through a flock of birds, with engine #2 ingesting a couple and failing. Fine. The E-Jet is a real, real pig on one engine and this wasn't helped by the fact that I mis-identified the swing and used the wrong rudder to counteract the failed engine.

We didn't crash.

We did have a bit of a rollercoaster ride with speed too low and a bank-angle warning just for kicks. As a result we missed the right turn on the departure and got a terrain warning because of Canary Wharf. Good start, guys, good start. The rest of the flight involved tidying up the aircraft, completing all the emergency drills and diverting to Birmingham. Where the weather was crap resulting in a go-around and subisquent divert to Manchester. Where the Radar and ILS were down so it was a procedural approach to a good-old non-precision (VOR) approach. All the time managing a failed engine and the associated fuel balance problems.

The second sector was much the same, only leaving from Southampton, engine fire on takeoff, try to return, weather terrible, divert to Gatwick, go-around and then back to Southamption for the non-precision VOR approach.

Word of warning, guys. That aproach is NOT in the FMS. I know there are some approaches in there that look like they're it, but they're not. Check very, very carefully the tracks outbound and distances because the VOR approach you'll be asked to fly isn't in the box.

Two options, build it using the radial/distance cues on the plate and then get the automatics to fly it. Actually, don't do this as this falls under 'constructing an Approach' which is a big faux pas in the FMS world. Second (and only really) is to fly it old-school, tracking the VOR needles to a set distance and then making your turn inbound. It sounds like more effort, but actually tracking outbound in a jet like the Embraer is a doddle, so I'd recommend that approach.

If you hadn't already guessed, we convinced ourselves that the approach we found in the box was the approach on the plate and hence in a calm, considered and carefully planned manner we flew completely the wrong track outbound and overshot our inbound track by miles, delaying our descent and making the whole thing just look and feel messy. So much so that after the detail we went back and did it properly.

Anyway, landed. Then we have to go back and quickly look that the things we needed to re-try. So it was back to City to perfect the EFATO (had two goes, both now nicely within limits), then off to Southamption to complete that annoying VOR approach properly.

Check Complete.

A debrief follows with learning points that I partly mention above, but since there's two of us on test at all times I can't really go into all the details here. Nothing terribly major though, and we're all set for the LPC today. The pressure's slightly off me as this is his check but, as ever, the whole exercise is multi-crew so I've still got to perform.


Right, that's enough on here from me. I'm off for a swim before hitting the books. Simulator fun starts at 2pm, Wish me luck!


tl:dr: I still has job!

It would never have happened to Smeaton...

Why the riots?

It's a difficult question, and the popular stance seems to be that there's no reason beyond greed; these kids are out to take advantage of the lawlessness, and loot some free stuff. I'm not so sure it's that simple. Nothing can excuse the behaviour we've seen in London and other cities these last few nights but it's highlighting a problem we've been facing for years now. The disenfranchised youth.

We can see it on programs like Jamie Oliver's Dream School, endless episodes of Police Interceptors or any number of documentaries. Britain has a serious problem with a disenchanted, disrespectful and over-entitled youth. How many times have we heard the mantra 'but you don't respect us' in defence of misbehaviour? The assumption from the perpetrators is that they have the right to what they want and their view of things has to be taken at least as seriously as anything opposing it.

I seriously suspect that the seeds of this recent situation go back decades. As a society we've been taught that you're not barred from anything - you can become a billionaire from nothing with just a good idea and the right way of getting it out there. This aspirational element to western, capitalist, economics is central. Yet we increasingly shy away from the truth behind this - not every idea can make it. The vast, vast, majority of attempts fail. Entrepreneurial spirit isn't about having a good idea and pursuing it - it's about having lots of good ideas and keeping to have and chase them until one or two of them make money. We're given this rosy image of everyone coming up with these great ideas and making millions, when, in reality someone's still got to empty the bins and serve the food that these great ideas rely on.

It's not always profitable to be honest about the things you're selling...

And it's not just economic systems we're being sold - it's aspiration. I refer you to Pop Idol, X-Factor, the Glee Project, So You Think You Can Dance, and yes, Dragon's Den. Popular culture is full of the message that we can all become pop-stars and successful business people. It's not surprising - people like to imagine themselves as successful, famous, important. It's nothing new, but the sheer exposure we have to the myth of everyone having everything they want is frightening.

Furthermore, as a nation we have pride in our many socialist ideals - medical care free at the point of delivery, the welfare state, free schooling etc. We're very good at the rhetoric that whilst we should push for innovation and progress, we shouldn't leave anyone behind. This is perfectly reasonable - it might get us into a few sticky spots when it comes to financing said ideals, but this re-investment into society is central to holding an otherwise greed-driven economy together. We've seen the advent of 'Political Correctness' come in as a much-needed, though often-derided measure to become a more inclusive society. In schools across the country the term 'failure' has been outlawed - guidelines now state that a pupil (sorry, colleague in learning) doesn't fail - they 'defer success'. The life lesson of working really, really hard and still not getting what you want is left to some other entity to teach. This mightn't be altogether a 'bad' thing - the ideas and sentiments behind it all are noble enough - but the implementation is such that we get taught from a very young age that we don't fail, that we don't get things wrong, that the school is to blame if we get bored in classrooms and misbehave. The burden is on the system to engage with us, and not us with the system.

So, appeased out of any perceived failings and fed aspirations by the spadeful. Can you see where this is going?

Next, we have the great sledgehammer of reality bearing down on our rose-tinted glasses. Believe it or not, the it's difficult to be successful, and those that are have to fail a lot along the way. It's difficult to get what you want, because others all want it too.We can't all be pop-singers, just as much as we can't all be bin-men or all work in McDonalds. We've fed these kids the ideal that they're special and unique and they deserve. We then put them in a world where it's not perfect - people loose their jobs, people don't earn enough, people fail.

Are we so surprised that they're angry?

Maybe they don't see it like this, maybe it's not this at all - but when one sees a girl on TV defending the looting with the words 'but you don't respect us, so why should we respect you?', one may just consider the possibility that these kids are over-entitled, yet under-privileged and eventually this tips over into simply taking what they want.


tl;dr: If we hadn't told these kids that they could have anything they wanted, they'd probably not have gone and just taken it...

Riots

Burnt Police Astra, a photo by Mikebert4 on Flickr.

More on this later.

I'm ok, Woolwich is not.

You can't take the sky from me

.. but you can send me on surprise tour!

So, another update is due, and it's been a while since my last update. The car-clamping thing was really a big farce and wound me up a most depressing amount. I reasoned, in the end, that I brought the blight of the evil clamp-peoples upon myself and any amount of consternation wasn't going to get my car back. In short, I paid. In long, I didn't pay because I simply couldn't afford to, I got Mum to pay. I feel wonderfully grown up about this. More shall follow when the stress of the whole situation has worn off somewhat.

So, lets move on shall we?

My week is governed by the Roster. Rosters are mystical and changing beasts, well, at least this particular species of Roster is changeable (Cityflierus Obfusticatious). Some airlines publish a roster and this is what you fly. Thanks (mostly) to being a pretty small airline, we don't have this luxury. Because of the endless trials and tribulations that come from working amidst the wonders of the world of aviation - technical issues, weather, sickness, fatigue, legalities - keeping a schedule going is pretty demanding. Operations and Crewing do a rather splendid job at this, often at incredibly short notice.

All this preamble is leading you all up to my week.

I started work on Thursday. The almighty Roster had decreed that I was to fly to Frankfurt, back and out once more to stay in the hotel there, before flying an (empty) aircraft back the next day. I packed my bag for this one-night trip. It's important that you remember that I packed my bag for a one-night trip. When I checked in, crewing informed me of one change - no big deal, I was flying out to Copenhagen and positioning back to Heathrow the next day. No sweat. But then, I was to get into a taxi, to go to Stansted and operate to Palma and back. This meant a -long- day. So long, in fact that my Sunday (which was standby, and had just become a leisurely position out to Amsterdam) was going to be illegal. This was rectified through a quick call to Crewing who arranged for me to stay the night at Stansted, to position out to Amsterdam on easyJet. Ouch. This means that my one-night wonder was now two nights.

But wait.

The Amsterdam was to position on sunday for a sector on Monday. Three nights.

Monday's sector got me back into City in time to operate my original rostered flight out to Copenhagen again. To nightstop. Four nights.

My one-night away had become 4. I've packed a bag with a toothbrush, and a spare shirt. Well, at least I have a spare shirt, eh?

So. I reasoned thusly:

Firstly, no way am I positioning on easyjet in Uniform. So I need civvies. I purchase these in Stansted on Saturday before heading out to Palma. Secondly, I'm going to need more than one spare shirt. So I get the hotel in Amsterdam to launder one of my shirts as soon as I arrive. Plus I've not eaten much, so room service was called. Excellent. Now this surprise 5-day tour has cost me nearly £90. But I don't worry. I chose to do this.

That's right, I carefully considered, and agreed that this way was the best way. I effectively volunteered for this consternation. Here's why:

Every time our roster gets changed we have the option to accept or reject the changes. Accepting the changes earns you something called a Disruption payment. This is complicated to calculate but effectively, for me, it comes in at about £80 a time. Now, I've just been handed 2 major changes and two unscheduled nightstops. It's not quite this simple, but this means that I'm staring 4 disruption payments in the face. That's £320 for working almost what I was going to work anyway, getting extra flying hours (which I need being a newbie pilot), and because it's a whopping great tour now I've been earning flight duty pay since about 4pm Thursday when I checked in.

I'm not complaining too loud. In fact, because of my cadet-scale salary this year, I'm not complaining at all. I'm begging them for more weeks like this one. I'll work days off, I'll come in early, leave late, I'll stay another night. If it's legal, I'll fly it. Just keep giving me the money. I really, really, need the money.


tl;dr: I whore myself to CityFlyer and I love it.

You Shall Not Park!

Today I will mostly be ranting about Clamping.

As some of you will already have worked out this will be because I have recently been clamped. Those that have can have a cookie now. Don't worry, we'll wait, you have your moment - you deserve it.

At Mast Quay, where I'm currently living the car parking is managed by a group of alien fly-men from another dimension. At least this is the conclusion I have drawn given their complete inability to understand simple concepts like being allowed to park in a given space, and that paying to have a wrongly-applied clamp removed actually causes cancer in cute little kittens.

Anyway, I'm hitting you all with the full force of my rant before I've explained some of the situation, and as much as I like hating on these clamp-happy Nazis, it would be proper to fill you in on the situation somewhat first.

My car has been clamped. Yup, you guessed right. Those of you with cookie crumbs around your mouths probably guessed slightly faster than the others, but I digress. I pay for a space in the non-secure part of the parking available at my flats, and about two weeks ago I received a numbered pass to put in the window which matches the number of the bay in which I park. The clamping company, Secure-A-Space, who have a history decided that-  though I had already informed them, and gotten the management company for Mast Quay to confirm that I was authorized to park in that space - this wasn't good enough. My car has now been clamped, and a notice been served saying I've to pay £120 to get my car released.

My first temptation is to lock the clamp to my car and charge them £120 to have the clamp released. However, though sporting, this isn't entirely legal and thus other outlets for my rage will have to be found.

It turns out that the residents of Mast Quay are pretty uniformly against this company and their tendancy to have a massive Clamp-gasm if anything with wheels pauses for more than a few seconds within their domain. Strange, really, common wisdom would suggest that reptiles see moving targets better. Alas Clampers are the Hyena's of their little world - only preying on the dead, rotting, meat that's not likely to give up much of a fight.

Alas this logic seems to have failed them of late, as they've clamped my car. My Car.


I've written a nice long email to Comer, who manage Mast Quay, and I'm in the process of submitting complaints through the council, and SIA.

But this isn't going to get my car un-clamped. Oh no. Secure-A-Space have insisted that I have to pay to get my (wrongly clamped) car released. Oh, and they want to tow it. They actually want to -tow- a car displaying a pass, parked it's authorised bay, with authorisation. It's not blocking any access, dangerously parked, or causing an obstruction so that could be an interesting eventuality.

Anyway. I shall update you all as the saga continues.

Today I'm going to rage about roaming charges.


What happens if we consider everything as data? Calls as simply voice data, texts as data, picture-messages as good-old data. You get the picture.

Lets assume my home-internet connection is fairly standard. Lets also assume it has a fair usage policy of 40Gb/month (pretty standard for the price with BT, TalkTalk, Virgin etc), 40GB daily is about 1.333Gb, which is (very approximately) 15kbps of 24/7 usage.

Price wise, I pay about £40pcm for this connection. Well, it's included with TV and calls, so the actual internet package costs about £18pcm, lets call it £20 for ease of use. £20 per 40Gb is 50p/Gb or 0.048p per Mb.

Now, I was in Sweden last week - The Menzies Lounge at Stockholm Arlanda Airport to be precise. Vodaphone reliably informed me that calls will cost 75p, plus my minutes to make, and 75p to receive. SMS messages cost 11p and I get 25Mb for £2 daily (£1 per Mb thereafter).

Wait what?

I'm going to ignore the data charges - no normal person uses mobile data rates abroad. The kind of person that uses mobile data charges abroad arrived into foreign on their own jet, or is struggling to find signal off Monaco in their yacht. So not me then. I'm going to look at the call charges. Because wow.

Again, considering everything as data, we have a reasonable comparison with VoIP services such as Skype. A voice call with Skype uses anything from 24-128kbps (source). According to ZDnet, an average cell phone call lasts 3 minutes 15 seconds. That's 195 seconds at between 24-128kbps - lets guess that we're not going to enjoy the 24kbps end, and the 128kbps end would require some seriously good internet from both parties. Lets assume a nice, round, 96kbps stream. It's more than enough for decent voice quality (Mumble, a gaming-base VoIP client I use is perfectly usable down to 20kbps, so 96 is adding some overhead).

96kbps is 0.7Mb per minute (8kb = 1Kb, 1024Kb = 1Mb, 60 seconds in a minute). 0.7Mb, at my home internet rates would cost me 0.034p.

Did I mention that with VoIP software, I can call anywhere in the world for free?

At 75p per call, I would have to be on the phone for 22,000, That's 22 Thousand minutes, or just over 15 days, constantly before I broke even. Though this is moot given that I only have 600 minutes on my contract, I'd actually never break even.

Why does this enrage me, I hear you ask? Free market economics and all that. They charge what people will pay.

The companies don't enrage me (that much). The People who absently pay these charges because 'it's just the way things are'. These people enrage me.

tl;dr: Mobile Phone companies rip you off. As if you didn't already know.

Singapore A380, Zurich

Singapore A380, Zurich, a photo by Mikebert4 on Flickr.

So another Split duty this week - this time to Zurich. This A380 was on approach to Runway 34 as we taxied out.

This is interesting, because Runways 34 and 28 cross. They were landing aircraft on 34 and in the gaps were getting aircraft airborne from 28, with the aircraft crossing paths where the two runways cross. Don't panic, this is both perfectly safe and perfectly legal - the separation required for this kind of operation is clearly defined in ICAO legislation, as well as all the usual requirements and regulations for an active runway still applying.

The photo I wished I could've got would've been the Swiss RJ85 rotating just at the point where the two runways cross, with the A380 on approach. Unfortunately I couldn't grab my camera quite in time, that and y'know, having to operate the aircraft we were in.

Speaking of which, we managed to rather jump the Queue for departure this morning - we were taxiing out on the north side of Runway 28, and on the south taxiway there were three other aircraft (two Swiss, one bizjet). Usually departures would be metered out on a first-come-first-served basis, but occasionally they make exceptions. For example, our little E170 is rather faster and has significantly better climb performance than the old RJ's so Tower let us skip ahead rather than be held up by the preceding traffic - which was very nice of them.

All that was left was to watch an Airbus land across our runway, then clearance, and then go.

Another morning at work begins...

You take the high road and I'll.. well.. I'll fly, actually...

So I'm sat in the crew room at London City. Waiting.

This isn't something strange to me, quite often they'll fly you in (or, more accurately, have you fly in) and then they'll give you a 3-4 hour wait until your next duty. It's long enough so you get bored, but not so long as to make going home for an hour viable, in other words it's carefully calculated to be mildly perturbing.

I'm waiting to position up to Edinburgh to stop there tonight before flying back down early tomorrow morning and then taking an aircraft down to Faro and back. I'm looking forward to this tomorrow because way back during my training I completed my night rating in Faro. In fact, I believe I have a video of that very escapade...




Taken by mounting my teeny little compact to the dashboard of my little warrior as I pootled around the circuit. It was damm good fun, and I'm rather looking forward to seeing the airport from the more commercial side of things. Also it's nearly a 3-hour flight, so it'll be nice and relaxed, we hope.

Anyway - I have to go and check in for my flight soon. Adios

London City

London City, a photo by Mikebert4 on Flickr.

Apologies for the poor quality of photo - my little compact doesn't cope well in marginal light.

This was taken as we crossed the centerline for left-hand turns to land on the runway you see down there. The light was just beautiful, so I grabbed 5 seconds to snap this before getting back to slightly less important duties.. Like flying the aircraft and stuff.

Boom, like that.

Morning all,

Today I'm writing to you from the hotel lobby of our nightstop hotel in Amsterdam. It's the Marriott Courtyard and it's actually in Hoofddorp, near the airport. It's a nice hotel, situated on the edge of a nature reserve, and were the weather more amenable, I'd be out on a bike having an explore about now. Alas, it's chucking it down so I'm sat on the free wifi in the lobby and blogging for great glory.

Yesterday was... interesting.

The order for the day was a simple City->Amsterdam->City->Amsterdam. However, in this industry things don't always go quite as planned.

Firstly, before we even thought about committing Aviation we had a 'Crew Forum' - we had a sit down with a few crew and upper management - in this case the MD himself - and given opportunity to ask questions and voice concerns. Most of what was discussed it isn't prudent to go into on here, but the airline isn't doing too badly at all and we've got purchase rights and options on yet more aircraft. So generally, that was good news. Oh, also, they're looking at improving the quality of the crew food. I approve of this.

So, management sit-down complete we got onto the real business of the day - the flying. Or, we didn't, because we'd picked up a delay and our 1425z flight wasn't due to depart until 1555z. Our aircraft hadn't even left Amsterdam yet. So it was over to the terminal to grab some sandwiches and a cuppa and chill out for an hour.

Next, we get a phonecall from Ops. The aircraft we're waiting for (G-LCYI) had had a lightning strike coming in from Amsterdam and we'd be further delayed whilst the engineers cleared it for service. Now this was interesting, so we all trooped across to airside and met the aircraft as it taxied in. There was no obvious external damage on first glance, but after it stopped one could observe burn marks above all of the windows on the port side and the engineers pointed out a burn/crack where the lightning had struck the nose of the plane - this was on a critical joint in the airframe so they estimated that it would be at least two hours before the aircraft was either released for service or declared 'tech' and sent to Stansted to be fixed. Not to worry, we'll just change aircraft.

So, we trooped over to G-LCYD, just in from a training flight at Cambridge, and got to work. The usual set-up, walk around, fueling, passengers, briefings, clearance and checks all ensued and we were away by 1645z (I'll have to double-check this time).

Now, Amsterdam flights are busy - by the time you've got airborne, switched frequency three times, got the flaps away and completed the after take-off checks you're already steaming towards the coast. Then you stop the climb low (around FL210), and you've got about 5 minutes before top of descent to brief, set speeds, minima, approach aids, and program the aircraft for landing. Oh, did I mention that the other aircraft got struck by lightning? There were storms about. Lots of storms. We got airborne and immediately we were asking for headings to avoid storm cells. The whole flight was spent heading generally eastward whilst dodging around rather nasty looking storm cells, and completing all of the tasks previously mentioned. Oh, also, they changed runways on us at Amsterdam, leading to more consternation and re-briefing during the descent.

So anyway, we weaved our way through the weather, and managed to get onto the approach for runway 18R. The weather was terrible, and we're fighting at 18-19kt crosswind (which happens to be my current limit). The landing therefore, was fun. A little racy, but I'm pleased to say that I managed to get it down roughly on centerline, straight, and not -too- firmly. It was close though, the left wing dropped quite dramatically during the flare and this nearly threw us off the runway entirely. This is why we train like we do, and why we have crosswind limits. So a long taxi onto stand and shutdown just as a storm passes overhead.

Storms at Amsterdam cause all kinds of issues - the land is very flat and the airport boasts many tall towers and masts for lighting and other such things. Lightning is a serious concern - especially this lightning. All around us, and near-constant. The airport halts -all- ground operations because of safety concerns, so now we have no crew to help us get ready for the next sector, and we're watching as aircraft stack up, waiting to get onto stands that are either occupied with flights that can't leave, or have no crews to greet the aircraft. In short, Chaos. For 30 minutes. We take the time to eat our dinners and grab a few minutes rest.

Then the horn sounds and the anthill once again kicks up into life. Literally thousands of crew spring back out of their little cubby holes and aircraft start to move again. We get passengers, and clearances and become just about ready to depart. The weather looks reasonable on the way out, most of the storms are to the north and east now, so off we taxi and we have a fairly uneventful, if rather bumpy flight back into City.

The turnaround in City goes pretty much as standard - though we're now getting rather late at night and the airport is keen to see the back of us. Set-up, walk-around, passengers, loadsheet, checks, clearances, start, taxi and we're airborne again.

The weather is back.

We're looking at a near-sold wall of storms between us and Amsterdam. The weather radar shows two little 'corridors' of clearer air, maybe 5-10 miles wide. We start asking for headings to take us towards one of these, whilst avoiding the few storms still dotted about on this side of the north sea. It's getting dark. We can see lightning nearly constantly, on all sides of us and we're flying through what looks to be a narrowing slit of clear-air between two giant cliffs of storm-cells. We feel like Jason and the Argonauts as the walls get closer.

Lightning arcs from one storm to the other. In front of the aircraft.

Luckily, most of the electrical activity seems to be at altitude, and the controller decides this is a good time to give us a continuous-descent to 2000ft in preparation for the approach. We brief, set up the aircraft and I hand over control to the Captain, I make a quick PA to the passengers explaining that we're starting our descent, giving them the time we're expecting to arrive and explaining about the storms all around us and that we've avoided the absolute worst of it, but they can still expect a spectacular light show as we fly the approach. Then it's all hands into the flightdeck as we slow down, position and set up for the approach. This goes fairly smoothly. Only one issue - the missed approach track (where we fly if, for whatever reason, we can't land) is nothing but storm. All of it is covered by one massive area of red on the weather radar. We resolve that, in the event of a go around we're turning the wrong way and explaining ourselves to ATC after the fact. No way are we going anywhere near that.

Easier landing this time - wind is gusty but only slightly off straight down the runway. Taxi in, shut down disembark, and start the walk towards the taxi. Into the hotel for just about midnight.

Three busy sectors on a very bad weather day, I don't think I've ever had quite so much fun :)

Until next time...

Minecraft for Great Glory

Over the last few months, Minecraft has become the internet’s newest craze. Simplistic, elegant and buggy little game that it is, it's taken over the lives of so many geeks worldwide (making it's creator an overnight rich-thing).

Minecraft combines simple ‘Lego block’ worlds with a ingenious crafting mechanic… and not much else. There’s no story, no goal and absolutely no point. The only achievement you will ever receive is that of personal satisfaction a sort of ‘I made it’ feeling. Its not exactly a social commentary, but it makes you think about a world where the only objectives ever set for you, are set by yourself.

The game is bought for around £10, and for that you get an account and a single, really very tiny, executable file. Once you start, you’re in a random spot, in an (almost) infinitely huge randomly generated world, with nothing but your curiosity and a pair blocky hands.

The first thing to do, is to chop down some trees, trees that you craft into wooden planks and then into a workbench (the centerpiece of all homes and bases). Then, instead of going out and exploring the world, you need to burrow yourself into the nearest mountainside and seal yourself in. Staying out at night is deadly, since all different types of baddies come to reduce you to player-pate once night falls. You’ll have more than enough time tomorrow to explore gaming’s largest ever game world.

As you adventure, whether above or deep below ground, you’ll come across more and better resources; coal, iron, gold and even diamond. Use all this cool stuff to build larger, better, deeper. Then relish in it, because you’ve just done something unique - no one else has ever done this quite like you have. Sure, there's similarities between systems and efficient ways of doing things, but this is yours. Now step back and look at the impact you've had on this world. Suddenly, there are towers in the horizon. The night is no longer dark, but instead lit by the rays of your many beacons and tourches. The depths are no longer dark hidden and full of dangers, but sealed and safe, pillaged, possibly spewing out lava onto the surface. Hapless pigs run around with saddles on their backs and the chicken population dwindles, and you happily punch a passing sheep to gain more wool for your latest project.

Now I play Minecraft in a social setting - I have a server run by a group of friends from Bristol and along with another Pilotish friend of mine, we've created our base. We've spent days levelling ground and digging rock to create a runway. We've built a railway station complete with track-selection courtesy of Minecraft's best and most buggy feature - red-stone circuitry. Hell, I even took the time to create a doorbell with the Westminster chimes. We're on a integrated rail network of which, "The Sandstone line" is but one small part (http://mc.zem.org.uk/wiki/Sandstone_Line) - oh yes, we document everything on a wiki.

Why do we do this? What's the benefit of playing Minecraft for days on end?

I like to play games for their story - games like Bioshock, Half-Life, Portal, even Borderlands - but Notch (the man-god who created this gem of a game), oh dear Notch has put nothing of the sort in here to distract me. So I sit, and I play, and I think about what exactly I am doing. I sink hours of my life into a game who’s only reward is its gameplay. The only thing you’re rewarded with is a token of all the time you’ve spent hunched over your computer; your world. Its a place you crafted, its a place you mined, its YOUser generated. You’ve created a place for yourself, most likely, no one else is ever going to appreciate it the way you do. But you will, you’ll appreciate that there used to be a mountain there, until you and your greed and your curiosity came and turned it into a gargantuan stone tower. 

With Lava.

And a Doorbell.

tl;dr: Buy Minecraft and never sleep again.

Red Shells, Green Shells and TMS

Why hello!

So I'm currently visiting my father up near Grantham - it's nice to get out of the city for a few days (plus, you know, if they feed me I don't have to buy food). I'm here on pretence of helping out with some work in his garden and the sheds (well, they're outbuildings really). You see, because Dad is away for just over half the year, the house in the UK is neglected for all of 6 months of the year and hence there's always work to do here.

So at the moment we're limbering up for the day playing Mario Kart on his Wii, before booting up and rebuilding his garage door, rebuilding the garden gate and possibly digging up the front flower beds. On order for the weekend is recombobulating the workshop-shed and some paving (though, we'll have to wait for the rain to subside before we can lay much of that). This is very much why I enjoy visiting Dads - there's always stuff you need to be building and fixing and digging. It appeals to the manly-man side of me.

So between gardening, sawing, Mario Kart and the Cricket... you're lucky you got a post at all today. Still, it's not like me to neglect my blog, even in the face of manly-go-build-stuff things.

Also, there's a geocache up near the village I fully intend to nip out and log :)

Cheerio!

Only an Island as lackadaisical as this...

Well, another duty block has ended. Another 6 days of scooting a few dozen tonnes of metal and padding around the skies of Europe comes to a quick and painless end. Now I'm happily on leave for 10 days.

So I sit on my balcony and, beer in hand, and look upriver to watch the sun sink slowly down behind the O2 and Canary Wharf like a bad metaphor for something other people have to worry about. Sure, things aren't perfect at the moment - I'm short of cash and I still know practically nobody in London. However, right now, right this second as I relax and I know that there's no early start tomorrow no worries about being on time, no ironing uniform, no delays, no slot times, no loadsheets, no fuel figures, nothing but a vague sense of  having accomplished a decent first stint as a fully-fledged Pilot and now I've got a good couple of weeks off to chill out, go and see the folks and generally just enjoy the fact I'm young and it's summer.

Tomorrow I'm off into town to spend the day with the Lovely Liz, the Lovely Liz-y-Beth and Steph, who is as yet ungraded but gets a provisional 'Lovely' on the basis of recommendation from the Liz-y-Beth. We shall be out taking photos. Wait, there's a moment here for awe at Science...

Cameras will be pointed and, through science, staggering numbers of photons will cause barely measurable differences in the movement of electrons in a detector array, in turn causing immeasurable binary switches to flip state to create what will later be decoded (again, through Science) into little currents of electrons that will change some orientation of millions of little blocks of a few molecules of coloured crystal, through which we will then shine light created by exciting electrons in a particular chemical, creating a faithful reproduction of the original photons we captured earlier. They call this a digital photo. We will do this hundreds of times.

Oh also, we're off to see QI get recorded.

tl;dr: Life is good. Science is awesome.

More time than sense

So we're now looking at a Mike post Split Duty.

This Mike is a tired Mike.

However, due to the caffeine required to meet the clearly spurious requirement to be alert when operating a 34-tonne jet, this Mike can't grab a quick nap just yet. So as the copious amounts of caffeine wear off and the sweet abyss of sleep beckons once more, I shall regale you with many a story of woe and trial.

Well, maybe.

Today, our roster came out for the next month. It comes out on the 10th of every month ("but it's the 11th!" I hear you yell -I'll get to this). Crewing have a monthly nightmare with the roster, given that we've too few captains and still just slightly too few aircraft for all our routes. The standard practice is that the roster will come out late on the 10th, and then for the rest of that week you're confirming furious changes as they try to get the whole thing to make sense. I've got a copy of my new roster and will soon be transferring it all over to google calendar for the greater glory of Mike. This month, Crewing had slightly more trouble than usual, and looking at people's rosters it's no wonder - there's some interesting things going on (we're talking Hotels in Heathrow for flights from Stansted and the like). Still, they seem to have made ends meet for another month so all seems well.

Some interesting facts about my Roster until the end of July:

31,901		69		10		17
miles		flights		countries		routes

Furthest Flight — London to Faro (1073 miles, 2:55 hours)

Furthest North — 59.7°N (Stockholm)
Furthest South — 36.7°N (Malaga)
Furthest East — 17.9°E (Stockholm)
Furthest West — 8°W (Faro)

Split Duty

So Tonight I'm off to Zurich for something known as a 'split duty'.

Effectively this means I stay up very late and have to get up very early - Flight Time Limitations (FTL) regulation only allows me to be 'on duty' for a certain time, but the company can extend this time by a few hours if I get a 4-hour or greater break in the middle of my duty. They use this to have a crew operate the last flight out to a destination, overnight and fly the first flight back the next day. So tonight, I operate the Zurich flight at 18:35 (London time) from City this evening, then I have the grand total of about 8 hours in a hotel before I'm up and doing to fly the 07:30 (Europe-time) back into City.

This has benefits and disadvantages to it - firstly I'm going to be shattered tomorrow. Left to my own devices I tend to drift Nocturnal and hence shifting from normal Mike-patterns to an early morning is never pleasant. However, it does mean that when I get to City at 08:10 (London time), I then have the rest of the day to myself. So, if I can keep the levels of caffeine up I've got a day off effectively. This is actually full of win.

I'm still in two minds as to how much I enjoy the Split duty. I'm a fan of getting some time at our destinations to maybe take a walk or hire a bike and generally get out to see the Cities we are lucky enough to fly into daily (yes, even Glasgow, stop looking at me like that). Split duties don't give one a chance to go and see a place - even if they do give one basically a whole day to chill out and get stuff done.

A note on the background

So, I decided to use this picture, right...

The image in the background you won't find on the stock images sites - it my very own taken down on the Devon coast, near Beer. It is a lovely part of the world. I still don't know what made me take the camera out that day, and drive down to the coast, but I had such a wonderful walk along the cliffs and beaches.

The photo was taken shortly after I started walking - I wandered along this fence until I hit the next town across the coast. At which point I stopped, turned around, and walked back. Little is it known that a footpath is completely different going the other way - you know roughly what's coming from your first trip along it, so you're looking for the things you didn't see - it's a glorious mixture of surprise and familiarity and not to be snuffed as covering ground twice. The wonderful thing about owning a brain is that it's hard-wired to not notice everything as you walk along, and with a little effort you can paint a whole scene into a different light.

The photo itself can be seen in a more accessible size on flickr. I post new stuff on there fairly often, but then again, if it's anything worthy of expansion, I'll probably talk about it on here, so decide for yourselves if you're going to check back in there or here, or at all...


athankyou.

Well, here we are.

Much unknown to people, I've actually been gearing up to restarting blogging for a while. I let my old blog die out somewhat sadly during flying training. This I feel was generally a bad thing, so I decided that I would set up a blog on an entirely more free platform. This is that.

One has to ask oneself very carefully why one wishes to blog. One cannot just wade in, splurge into a WYSIWYG editor and hope that people will read and/or care. Well, at least I can't. I like the idea of blogging for the same reason I like the idea of going to the pub with friends who have opinions that differ from me - I just love to rant. However, a drive to rant isn't enough to keep a flame lit under one's desire to blog, so what else is it that continually drags me to the keyboard in the wee silly hours? I do enjoy writing, one cannot write and not enjoy writing. I'm drawn to the idea that I can take the crazy ideas from my head and place them out into the world. Sure, I'm one of hundreds of thousands who have the same drive, we're awash with content generation in this new age of internet and expression - and though much may be dismissed as tosh, the mindless outpourings of those with nothing to say and all the will in the world to say it, we must remember that these people don't write for us to read, they don't write to have their writings become popular. They write because they want to.

All this aside, I've not even approached the reason why I specifically came to the decision to pour myself onto the digital page. I blog to remind me that something happens to me every day and be dammed if I'm going to snuffle all this experience up and watch it slowly dissolve into past years and vage remembrances. I write because in a few years I'll look back and think "yeah, I remember that". I blog because I hope someone else may read something, some little thing and think "yeah, I've had that, I've been there, I've felt that".

Of course, the real trick is keeping on blogging.

My schedule for updates is the same as my schedule for new uploads for Flickr, or for working on any number of little projects I have on the go - when I feel like I have a post in me, I'll create one. Obviously, I've all the will in the world to make these updates regular, but we'll see.

So, Welcome, reader.