There are many carry-overs between flying a jet and cruising the high seas. Some of the most common aviation terms are drawn from the nautical world, and the glamorous, nascent days of transoceanic flying provided the ultimate amalgamation of these two realms; Pan Am’s famous Clippers were, technically speaking, flying boats. Thus, as an airline pilot, it’s with unavoidable interest that I followed the plight of the hapless Francesco Schettino, renegade captain of the once majestic, then quite sideways Costa Concordia cruise ship.
The captain of a jetliner, no different from his cousin on the bridge of a ship, is charged with the safety and well-being of both a multimillion-dollar machine and its cargo of trusting passengers. Pilots train, retrain, and train again – a constant regimen that is nothing if not a long crisis-management rehearsal. Presumably it’s similar for those at sea, and so the image of Schettino scrambling into a lifeboat seems a touch, well, irresponsible. Maybe even pathetic.
