Living in a Crash Pad is a Love / Hate Relationship
Everybody needs a place to crash, even pilots. It’s a terrible pun, but the crash pad lifestyle has removed much of the glamour that used to surround the flying profession.
Most pilots I discuss crash pads with behind the flight deck door view them as a necessary evil. Significant percentages of pilots and cabin crew members in the majors and regional airlines choose to live away from their bases.
Many factors drive this decision, but the one factor that comes up repeatedly on the flight deck is, “It’s the economy, stupid.”
Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of QOL
Right or wrong, the cost of living in the places where most airlines (major/regional) have established crew bases is one of the costliest places in America to work. New York City (DAL, UAL, AAL, JBL), San Francisco (UA/AAL), the list goes on SEA, FLL, BOS, LAX, DEN, ORD, etc, etc, etc.
Living near a large metropolitan area is always costlier, and just about every airline domicile is in one. Commute times, rent prices, taxes, and the amount of land or square feet in a home you can purchase are also significantly affected by living in these areas.
And let’s not forget that pilot pay and flight attendant pay have been subjected to numerous concessions since 9/11, until very recently. Many aircrew members lost significant percentages of their income in the recession, some lost their homes, and many have been impacted, especially at the regional level, where an entry-level First Officer was paid less to fly a jet aircraft than a worker flipping burgers at the same Seattle airport (due to local minimum wage laws – that did not apply to contract workers).
The situation produced a significant income disparity between crew members at different levels. Regional crew members still had to subsist, pay rent, and operate out of expensive locations, while many crew members at the majors have decided to venture far afield from their domicile to find the best “QOL” quality of life for their families.
Most major companies have contractually adjusted their schedules to include a certain percentage of “commutable pairings,” which means that the start of a crew member’s trip is during the later morning or afternoon hours to allow a commute into domicile and that the trip concludes in domicile prior to the last flights leaving in the evening.
As you might imagine, most of these trips go to more senior crew members, and when it comes to commuting, “seniority really is everything.”
Enter the Crash Pad Mafia
Crash pads are the chosen way for airline crew members who want to or need to live “out of base” to have a cost-effective location to spend a night before or after a trip. Subsequently, the airline’s junior members will also spend 4-6 days at a time sitting reserve at their crash pad to make sure that your flight operates when a crew member calls in sick or can’t make it to the airport.
Reserve crew members spend the most time at the crash pad because getting a hotel room for 18-20 days out of the month is cost-prohibitive. The crash pad offers a ‘sensible’ alternative.
Crash pads typically come in two different flavors: Hot or Cold bunks. I know all you Navy avgeeks got a kick out of that phrase. The hot bunk style, as you may have guessed, allows any crew member who pays the monthly fee to select an open bunk (routinely lit by cell phone screen lighting in the middle of the night).
The cold bunk style is usually more costly and affords each crew mate the bed that they choose and pay for—some companies and proprietors have this down to a science. They even price-discriminate based on top/bottom bunks and the number of bunks in a room.
Part Animal House, Part MTV’s The Real World
It is strange to picture an apartment or large house teeming with adults of varying ages. No, there are no crazy party nights at the crashpads. If you want to listen to loud music, you’d better have your own earbuds.
Most social hours are spent in the living room or around the TV, discussing the latest contract dispute, TSA shenanigans, or emergency landing over takeout at the kitchen table.
As a crash padder, beware of the ‘spoiler alert’—there is always the risk of walking in on a padmate who is watching your favorite Netflix show but has fallen a few episodes behind on your seasonal binge.
You run screaming out of the house so you don’t hear or see anything. The next moment, you are back on the street with your luggage in tow, and you forgot it was raining. Yeah, it’s happened…and to me.
Most pads have rules catering to the rest and relaxation of fellow crew members, and in my experience, the best ones have more rules about etiquette, quiet hours (24/7), washing the dishes, limiting items in the fridge, and requiring squeegeeing the bathroom shower.
In some pads, cleaning and maintenance are the responsibility of the padmates. You even have to take your turn dusting or taking out the trash.
Finding a shred of personal space eventually becomes a necessity. This summer, during my days at the crashpad, I spent hours exploring Lower Manhattan.
As my reserve shift neared its end, I took the Subway into the city and strolled through Central Park or the MET—the New York Metropolitan Museum of Art. Sometimes, a crew member invited me to the local gym, and other times, I just read a book. I needed that peace and quiet.
The best crash pads offer transportation options or are within walking distance of the airport. Some airlines require crew members to cover multiple airports in a major city, such as New York City, where pilots and flight attendants can typically be dispatched from Newark, Kennedy, or LaGuardia.
And when a pilot or flight attendant does have some downtime, the best pads are close to amenities like grocery stores, gyms, restaurants, a library, maybe the beach, a park, or, if you are really lucky, a laundromat.
Flying is a pretty awesome job. But it’s not always glamorous. If you need a crash pad, be smart and do your research. You’ll be glad you did.
