During the sterile-cockpit period we don't get into non-essential conversations; we're required to limit it to only what's required for the safe operation of the airplane. This keeps all of our attention focused on flying and reduces the chance that a distraction could lead to a potentially serious mistake. This sterile period is defined as anytime the airplane is moving under its own power and below 10,000 feet.

That said, whenever we have a chance to set the parking brake while we're on the ground during a delay, or when we're above 10,000 feet, it's a great opportunity to get a picture, especially when I'm a relief pilot sitting in the jumpseat.

I've been struggling to properly expose both the inside and the outside of the cockpit, which can be challenging. I managed the nice shot below because the sun was reflecting off the instrument panel from the left side and behind us slightly.



But what about the times when the sun isn't helping you out? In the past I've used a flash to 'fill' in the cockpit areas while exposing for the outside of the airplane as seen in this picture:

The biggest choice I get to make each month when picking a schedule isn't generally where I'll fly or what days off I'll get. Since I'm much closer to the bottom of the seniority list than the top among 767 international co-pilots in Boston, my choice is generally between flying a set schedule (known as a line) or 'sitting' on reserve.

If I choose reserve, I'm on call for more days a month, but on many of those days the company doesn't need me to fly at all. In return, the pay is 10-15% less than flying a full schedule. This difference in pay is enough to cause most pilots to choose to bid a line.

When I'm able to hold a line, I tend to pick up trips and trade around so a normal schedule of, say, three-days on and three-days off might be a complete mess after I add a trip and bunch a few others together.

But nothing has compared to this past week. This is the first time I've worked at this company with just one day off in the past 15 days.

We left off in the last episode looking at an extra two nights in Paris after a mechanical issue caused our flight back to Boston to cancel.

This was because our 7:10 p.m. required departure time had arrived and the mechanics still hadn't found the problem. So now there was no way to get to Boston without exceeding our 14 hour maximum time on duty.

We couldn't believe the situation. A five-day Paris trip? I've always envied the British Airways and Virgin crews that layover for days in the Caribbean. We'd finally get a chance to experience Paris after a full night's sleep.

Later that evening, the mechanics narrowed down our problem to a faulty total air temperature probe. This probe supplies the temperature information for the FMS (Flight Management System - The airplane's 'computer.') which calculates our Mach number and how high we can fly, among many other things. They'd have to fly a new temperature probe in from Chicago the next morning.

I've often marveled at how smooth air travel has become. Contrary to media reports, tens of thousands of flights operate every day with nary an issue. That was certainly the case for the previous six Paris trips this month.

The first clue that it'd be a more interesting flight came as I walked into the cockpit after doing the walk-around inspection outside. The captain mentioned that we didn't have any autothrottles tonight. It's akin to driving a car for 7 hours without cruise control.

I pulled out my Macbook to check the 767 MEL (Minimum Equipment List) to see if there were any issues about flying across the Atlantic without the autothrottles. Nothing came up, which meant they could be deferred for a few days until repairs or component replacements could be made.

At this point I can already hear a few corporate and regional airline pilots screaming, "Hey, we don't even HAVE autothrottles!"

Cockpit Chronicles takes you along on each of Kent's trips as a co-pilot on the Boeing 757 and 767 out of Boston.

"We've had a minor explosion back here," one of the flight attendants, Susan, told us during our preflight.

"There's orange juice all over 2H and J."

Selfishly, we all perked up. Those were our crew rest seats. The thought of sitting in a wet seat gave a new urgency to the co-pilot's voice when calling maintenance to get the cover and cushion replaced.

I was the relief pilot again for this flight. My schedule for June is exclusively for FB trips to Paris, but occasionally I'm able to trade over to the co-pilot seat if it opens up during the month, which leaves my relief pilot position open to someone who's on reserve or another pilot who's able to trade into it.

Cockpit Chronicles takes you along on each of Kent's trips as a co-pilot on the Boeing 757 and 767 out of Boston.

"We're going to try a new place to eat," Doug, the captain said as I walked into operations.

While he waited for the dot matrix printer to spit out the twenty feet of paperwork needed for our flight, he filled me in on what was the plan was for Paris.

"Mike (the co-pilot) and I read a review on a New York Times blog about a really small restaurant up near the Arc de Triumph called Le Hide. I figured we'd give it a try."

Crew members tend to have their own favorite places that they frequent. Sometimes it's easy to get into a rut and not venture out very far to experience anything different. Not so for Doug. He's on a quest to try a new restaurant almost every layover.

"This is my step-son, Mack. He's coming with us tonight," Doug said, as Mack stepped forward to shake my hand. "Mack has just turned 21 this week, so what better way to celebrate the occasion than to bring him along."

I was starting to get flashbacks of Michelle's daughter almost getting bumped from the last trip.

"Are we weight restricted?" I asked.

Cockpit Chronicles takes you along on each of Kent's trips as a co-pilot on the Boeing 757 and 767 out of Boston.

"You're not going to believe it, Kent." Michelle, the purser (#1 flight attendant) said as I walked on the airplane.

"Lexi's in the boarding area–did you see her?–anyway the agent says the flight is weight restricted and it's not looking good for non-revs–and there's no way I can leave my daughter here. The flight was supposed to be wide open!" she said.

When a flight is said to be 'weight restricted,' it's usually because we have to take so much fuel due to weather at the destination that we aren't able to take all the passengers. While the weather was going to be a bit foggy in Paris, I still couldn't imagine the fuel load that wouldn't allow us to use every seat on the airplane.

Cockpit Chronicles takes you along on each of Kent's trips as a co-pilot on the Boeing 757 and 767 out of Boston.

I'd like to welcome Gadling's latest blogger, Heather Poole and her feature, Galley Gossip. Gadling had been looking for a flight attendant's perspective of this industry and I'm glad they found it in Heather. If you haven't read any of her posts, I highly recommend "Sandvich Girl," which details a little of her past before she gave it all up to join the nomadic existence of a crew member. I've passed along her posts to my sister, who's a flight attendant for an airline that sports an Eskimo on its tail and to my wife, who worked for 6 years as a flight attendant and they could both relate to her immediately.

I think bloggers often get inspiration and motivation when reading the comments to posts. Heather's post called "Answer Please" made it around the world a few times and, judging from the comments, she was a bit misunderstood. She pointed out one annoyance with her job, an issue I've heard from many flight attendants; with iPods and movie earphones plugged in, it's often hard to get a passenger's attention to offer them a drink.

Many of the readers thought she was being ungrateful for her job or just complaining too much, but that's part of why she writes. She's trying to give an insight into the good and the bad of her job. And she cracks me up.

Cockpit Chronicles takes you along on each of Kent's trips as a co-pilot on the Boeing 757 and 767 out of Boston.

As I mentioned in the last post, I was given this two-day CCS trip instead of a three-day Paris. While I enjoyed the extra day off, it was hard to give up a Paris layover. Not much happened during the flight down and the deadhead home from Miami was uneventful. So we'll skip ahead to the next Paris trip.

Fortunately I've managed to hold an entire line of Paris trips for June, so I'll be trying to catch up on all the great recommendations for things to do in the city of light.

Since I was the relief pilot for this 6 P.M. departure, it was up to me to do the exterior preflight. The rain was starting to come down in sheets, just in time for my venture outside to look over the airplane.

At least the wet ramp made for a few nice photos...

I finished the last Paris trip four hours before my wife Linda and the kids would arrive in Boston on a Lufthansa flight from Germany. I debated waiting for them at the airport, but I knew Linda would be especially thrilled if she didn't have to go to the store on the way home to pick up some milk for her morning tea. So I drove up to New Hampshire, picked up some milk and fresh fruit, dropped off the groceries and my work gear at home and raced back down to Boston.

While the family was away in Germany, I had arranged to have the interior of the house painted as a Mother's Day surprise for Linda. Part of me wanted to paint it myself, but the entryway has some high walls and pilots just shouldn't be on ladders. I can't tell you how many stories I've heard of aviators falling off a roof while putting up christmas lights, sliding down a ladder while painting the trim or falling out of a tree while cleaning out dead branches. The fact that pilots are dangerous around ladders makes it much easier for me to get out of some of the ugliest projects.

After picking up everyone at the airport, I couldn't wait to get them home to see the freshly-painted house. My six-year old ran straight up the stairs to her room while Linda walked in the door. She looked right into the living room, and mentioned just how clean the house looked.