In Orwell’s Animal Farm, the pigs’ chant changed from “Four legs good, two legs bad!” into “Four legs good, two legs better!” and the farm changed forever.
Well, when it comes to airliners, it seems that the latter has become the norm — just substitute “engines” for “legs”, and you get the picture.
Modern engines, we are told, are more efficient and more eco-friendly (in that they burn less fuel and therefore squirt much less of that eeeevil carbon-whatever into the atmosphere), so therefore twin-engined long-haul aircraft are so much more desirable, you see, than those fat and dirty old 707s and 747s.
Amazingly, the oh-so eco-friendly Germans don’t agree (albeit for the wrong reasons), and are keeping some of their 747s:
This four-engine behemoth, first flown commercially in 1970, is no longer financially viable in an era of increasingly-efficient twin-engined jets. The final passenger-configured jumbo was delivered eight years ago, and Boeing has no plans to restart the production line.
But one European airline hasn’t turned its back on the 747 just yet. Germany’s Lufthansa, perceived by many to be aviation’s kings of efficiency, still operates 27 jumbo jets – 19 of the newer 747-8s, and eight older, slightly smaller 747-400s – and is even upgrading some jumbo jet interiors with swanky new Allegris seats as part of a £2bn Lufthansa fleet-wide refit.
Here’s the reason:
Why the lingering attachment? Part of the reason is simple and unromantic economics. According to aviation analysts, operations out of its Frankfurt and Munich hubs are each at take-off slot capacity.
So, with flight numbers capped, Lufthansa really needs its biggest aircraft, and the 364-seat 747s-8s drop neatly between the Airbus A350 (293 seats) and A380 (455 seats).
Yeah, whatever.
I happen to prefer flying aboard the older 747s for one simple reasons, based on the old saw: “Two is one and one is none.” Using that as a yardstick, I happen to think that four engines are safer than two.
I know, I know; according to the cognoscenti, modern twin-engined airliners can stay in the air if one engine breaks. But to my way of thinking, if one engine can break, its identical twin can also break, for the same reason. I know the chances are not high, statistically speaking; but the chances are not zero.
And forgive me for being a little skittish about my transportation suddenly turning into a lawn dart at 28,000 feet. Under those circumstances I’d like the odds to be somewhat more stacked on my side, and four engines are not going to fail simultaneously, or even sequentially.
I know that this is more of a moot point nowadays, when it appears that my transatlantic flying days are pretty much over. And annoyingly, according to a cursory study, Luftwaffe Lufthansa is persisting with the European Airbus 330 for DFW-FRA. (Why Frankfurt? Because if you’re going to connect at an airport in Euroland, Frankfurt is as good as LHR or CDG, to name but a couple, and better than MAD or — gawd help us — ROM.)
But the principle remains, because it’s true for any passenger, not just me. So in my opinion, Orwell’s original thesis is true: four legs good, two legs bad.
If I’m flying business class to or from Yurp I’ll always see if I can find a Seven Four, because sitting up in the hump is a marvelous experience. Otherwise I’m pretty much ambivalent as to a twinjet or a four-engine airplane. But what does matter to me is the reliability and safety of both the aircraft and the crew, which is why no 787s built in South Carolina, and no 737 MAX 8 or 9s, and I will *never* fly on an airline that is not based in a first world country, preferably ours.
Cockpit Resource Management—or rather the lack thereof—has cost far more lives than any malfunctions in a twinjet. Fire Breathing Captains who cow their FOs into submission and then go on to make a mistake that the young FOs are too frightened to say anything about has brought down far too many airplanes over the years, many of which were in Asia. Inexperienced FOs moving into the left seat because of crew shortages, hiring off the street (easyJet even made a TV series about that!), and similar practices are much more frightening to me. Adherence to sterile cockpit rules is huge, as is the possibility of language barriers (English ATC and non-native English speaking flight crews), and the “don’t worry, it’ll be fine” attitude present in certain countries frightens me far more than the risk of an engine out. I’m far less worried about a bad bolt in an engine than I am about a bad nut behind the yoke.
Modern aircraft glide well.
Something I didn’t spot in that article is that runways and terminals need to be upgraded for the A380, so the 747 can be used where the 380 cannot.
As for flying transatlantic, stay away from LHR; I recommend Schiphol. But DFW tops even that.
My mother only had to fly through LHR once, and she swore, never again. I actually prefer Lufthansa from LAX to Munich, but Frankfurt will do if I can get a connecting flight to where I’m going.
Once I took a tour through Costa Rica. We flew to San Jose via TACA Airlines, and afterwards I found out from my coworkers that I’d unwittingly taken my life in my hands.
My friend wants to take a driving tour through Italy and Switzerland, but I REALLY don’t want to fly into Rome, and anything further south is an even bigger NO.
On June 24, 1982, British Airways flight 009, a.k.a. Speedbird 9, had all 4 engines fail sequentially, shortly after leaving Kuala Lumpur for Perth. It was a 747-200, and without thrust, it had a glide ratio of 15:1. About the time they planned to start preparations to ditch in the ocean, #4 relit, followed by #3, and finally #1 and #2 also relit. By this time, they were already heading for an emergency landing in Jakarta. After the restarts, they started climbing so they could clear the mountains, and engine #2 died again. They were able to land safely in Jakarta with no injuries, though they had severe visibility problems.
Turns out that Mount Galunggung had erupted 110 miles south of them, and they flew through the ash cloud. No weather radar systems detected anything, because they look for moisture, and the volcanic ash was totally dry. The ash was pulled into the engines, melted and clogged up the engines and caused them to die. It also sandblasted the front windscreens and all of the leading edges of the fuselage, wings, tail, landing lights, and engine cowlings. Ash also entered the fuel tanks via pressurization ducts, fouling the fuel.
19 days later, a Singaport Airlines 747 was forced to shut down 3 of its 4 engines after flying through the same area.
Speedbird 9 was ferried back to London after replacing 3 of the engines and decontaminating the fuel system in Jakarta; engine 4 was subsequently replaced during refurbishment of the aircraft to return it to service. It remained in service until 2004, and was broken apart 5 years later. Speedbird 9 held the Guinness record for longest glide in a non-purpose-built aircraft, until it was broken by Air Canada flight 143 the following year (the Gimli Glider).