i was watching the comedy network and in one sketch they pointed out to me something i thought was just me. the left engine could be on fire and the report to the passengers could simply be, If you look to your right youll see an excellent view of the lake.of course this is an exaggeration but i still find it odd how when they announce things to the passengers they are so calm

That's the mark of a professional! If a pilot sounds scared or nervous, there is more of a chance the passengers will react in a panic, than if they sound confident and reassuring!

The calm is not only for the benefit of the passengers, but for tower crew, other pilots in the area and the pilot in crisis himself. When your demeanor is calm, your actions and reactions are calm; you're more efficient, you have control. You can figure out a place to land, if necesssary, deem if it's accessible, stick to the plan, execute your descent, approach and land. As far as narratives to passengers: someone else on the plane can do that (and hopefully calmly). The pilot has enough on his plate.A pilot can only control so much in a crisis: He can control his plane and landing site, but only on their terms. He does, however, have 100% opportunity of control in his reactions. Of course, all bets are off seconds before an impending impact, LOL.

i understand that part i simply dont understand how. simply flying a plane under perfect conditions with no failures and still just the thought of having peoples lives in your hands sounds like enough to make me at least a little nervous how could you be calm in such an extremely bad situation?

You're right. The responsibility in that scenario is an awesome one. Self-preservation is one thing, but when the lives of others rely on you as well, then that's the factor which can sober up a pilot real fast. I think it goes something like "If we're all gonna have a chance of living through this, then it's all up to me". Many people, pilot or not, have related to that kind of scenario as, interestingly enough, "going on autopilot": you tend to turn into a machine of sorts. It's hard to describe how it happens, it just happens. I've been there a few times in life...just never at the yoke.

wow i would be so screwed if it takes that kind of person... i tend to black out and everything goes slow motion for me in situatons that bad xD

wow i would be so screwed if it takes that kind of person... i tend to black out and everything goes slow motion for me in situatons that bad xD

I think you actually focus so thoroughly on the problem and what the next step is that you don't have time to get nervous, and yes any passengers and responsibiliy of those on the ground kinda make you keep your head on straight.

I'll relate a story about a captain who seemed near panic!I was on a United 727 from DEN to LAS with a stop in GJT back in November late 70s. We were climbing out of GJT in a nasty storm bouncing all over the place when there was a bright flash, a very loud BANG and it seemed an invisible hand held the plane completely motionless for a couple seconds. I was in my usual window seat looking out the window on the starboard side and was momentarily blinded. At that same instant I felt a tingling sensation go down my right leg the entire length. The lady directly in front of me turned around and looked at me with a horrified look and there was a lound collective groan from the jam packed cabin followed by dead silence. We all thought the plane would surely come apart! A minute or so later the captain came on the PA system and his voice was shaking and cracking up. He said something about passing off static electricity. Not convincing at all. LAS is not terribly far from GJT so we started our descent about 30 minutes or so later. Before long we were on final and on touchdown I could see all sorts of emergency equipment and police cars following us down the runway. The captain came on again and his voice was still shaking as he announced we were NOT going to the terminal, but would be going all the way to the end of the runway where he would lower the rear stairway. He commanded everyone to get off the aircraft as quickly as possible without taking any personal belongings of any sort. He then said they had received a report that we had a bomb on board!!Apparently what had happened was this. That aircraft had originated in PHL. When we were already off the ground leaving GJT UAL in PHL had received an anonymous call stating that airplane had a bomb on board. The crew had received this information but the weather by then was too bad to return. When the airplane got hit by lightening the crew thought it was the bomb exploding. Thus the quite evident anxiety!That is a true story, and I darn near went back to Denver on the train!!!!!Bruce

The closest I've ever been to lightning in flight was on a ferry trip involving a Cessna 206 from Anchorage to Seattle, summer of '83. We'd just flown into Northway, Alaska to refuel and get the latest WX. Storms were approaching, almost surrounding us, and we managed to wolf a quick burger and get a glimpse: There were various gaps in a stormy sky which was showing some pretty impressive lightning, and the real worry was we had a deadline to meet...that's the kind of thing that kills pilots.My dad found a guy who was flying another Cessna 206 out via IFR and asked if we could fly echelon to him out of the system, which he agreed to. Our plane barely had VFR instruments, as it had been a saltwater dunk some weeks before. We had no electrical...no radios (relegated to a handheld), not even flaps...or an interior, save two seats. Our two Cessna 206s coasted to the active and took off, threading our way through. Lightning was everywhere as we bounced along through the lower, dark strata, the inky black frequently illuminated by some impressive lightning flashes, with murderously loud thunder over the noise of the droning IO-520. One rather amusing fight was to try and keep incoming rain off the maps: the windshield had a large lateral crack fully across, with small holes drilled an inch apart on either side of the crack, secured by twists of safety wire, holes siliconed. The silicone wasn't doing its job; the maps were soaked.Our Cessna 206s parted company near the Alaska/Yukon border, where the weather was now a high-level overcast with sporadic medium-level cumulii. This continued into Whitehorse, where we stopped for the night and vowed we'd never do that kind of thing again.The plane was a floatplane in Alaska which'd overturned on landing out by the Cook Inlet mouth. A swell caught it, flipped it and the plane was towed to Anchorage, lifted out, righted, and floats removed for landing gear. We flew the plane back successfully, disassembled it, restored it for the guy we flew it back for. A few years later, the guy set it down during a storm on the Olympic Peninsula; with what the NTSB deemed as "self-induced pressure", he forced it onto the runway, veered off and flipped it, totalling it.