Why the Human Factors of aviation maintenance matter

Frequently, aircraft maintenance professionals are placed in uncomfortable situations when maintaining aircraft.

The alarm sounds at 0605 local, and I barely register that I am alive, let alone awake. Struggling to my feet, I dress and move slowly toward the kitchen, where my mother greets me with a red-and-white 16-quart Igloo Playmate cooler, packed with all three meals I would need for the next 18 hours and snacks. I shoulder my faded black Jansport backpack, hoist my Sears Craftsman toolbox into the truck, and fight to stay awake on my early morning drive to airframe and powerplant (A&P) school.

A&P school concludes at 1500. Next, my shift starts at the ATL T Gates. As a mechanic’s helper, my duties ranged from interior cabin work to hauling Lockheed L-1011 tires and nitrogen bottles. We sometimes entered aircraft logbooks into the computer.

Yes, I am L-1011 years old.

The second shift on International Line Maintenance ends at 2300, time to clean up, gather tools, and board the crew bus for the parking lot. It will be well past midnight before my head hits the pillow, and it will hit hard.

At 0605 the following day, it starts all over again. Lather, rinse, repeat. One weekend a month, I rise at 0505 and report for my U.S. Naval Reserve duty at Attack Squadron (Atkron) VA-205 on Naval Air Station (NAS) Atlanta. Monday morning, it begins again.

The above scenario was my life for three years. It is not a sustainable schedule for an aircraft mechanic. I was also one tired human, and that factored into my work. The human factor—hey, we may be onto something here.

Don’t be that person. Raise your hand, ask questions, and take breaks. Read the manual.

https://www.flyingmag.com/why-the-human-factors-of-aviation-maintenance-matter/