Late-model turboprops like the Dash-8, ATR and Saab 340 are still common, but it's the regional jet, the RJ, that has become the ubiquitous standard. Over the past decade the industry has collected RJs almost as fast as red ink -- the former as proposed antidote to the latter.

Dispersal of these nimble, versatile planes is seen by many as one of the most effective ways to reduce -- some would say outsource -- labor expenses. This can get semantic, but it's less about cheap labor, perhaps, than about increased productivity. An RJ's low per-trip costs introduce a whole new dynamic to a carrier's operational portfolio, enabling it to connect certain cities with multiple, conveniently timed departures not suitable for larger equipment. At first, RJ deployment tended to mirror that of their predecessor turboprops, going hub-and-spoke on routes of 500 miles or less. In time, RJs proved able to capitalize on longer runs -- those too distant for turboprops but unable to support a Boeing or Airbus with any meaningful frequency. Thus, whether for Milwaukee-Peoria or Houston-Toronto, RJs are profitable across a wide swath of markets.

The Bombardier CRJ, an outgrowth of the old Canadair Challenger executive jet (the letters "CRJ" stand for Canadair Regional Jet), is the most popular model to date, with more than 1,300 examples manufactured or on order. The CRJ is sold in three main variants seating between 50 and 90 passengers. On its heels is the Embraer ERJ series, over 800 of which have been delivered. The CRJ hails from Canada, the ERJ (which gets my vote as perhaps the sleekest plane of the past 20 years) from Brazil.

Based on data provided by Air Transport World, here are the five biggest regional airlines, in millions of passengers carried. Totals are for January-September 2004. The "regional" tag has no official application, and some would award "national" or even "major" status to the names below. None, however, possess any aircraft with more than 70 seats:

1. American Eagle (10.9)
2. SkyWest, dba Delta Connection (9.8)
3. ExpressJet, dba Continental Express (9.6)
4. Comair, dba Delta Connection (9.4)
5. Atlantic Southeast Airlines, dba Delta Connection (7.7)

It's interesting to note that while the United States has been far and away the biggest consumer of these planes, virtually all regional jets, and for that matter turboprops too, are today constructed and sold by foreign makers.

My pontifications on safety notwithstanding, and since I'm bound to be asked about it, the worst-ever disaster involving a regional airliner was that of American Eagle flight 4184, on Halloween night, 1994. Thanks mainly to a design flaw, the Chicago-bound ATR turboprop succumbed to a bout with freezing rain after languishing in a holding pattern and plummeted into an Indiana cornfield, killing all 68 people on board. As happened after the Air Florida debacle a dozen years earlier, the word "icing" took front and center in the fearful flier's lexicon. For a while anyway. The ATR's pneumatic de-icing system was redesigned, and the plane has avoided trouble ever since.

On that note, reader Leonard Linde writes in to remind us that only five days before, and only about 200 miles from, the aforementioned Kirksville incident, a Pinnacle Airlines CRJ went down near Jefferson City, Mo., killing two crewmen. Linde chews me out for having missed both Missouri mishaps in last week's column. Indeed I knew of the Pinnacle crash, but because it involved an unscheduled repositioning flight, with no passengers or flight attendant on hand, I struck it from the list. Pinnacle, if you don't recognize the name, does business as Northwest Airlink.

Speaking of Pinnacle, and speaking of mistakes, please don't mind while I finish things up by diverting your attention from my own gaffes and to somebody else's...

Last weekend, the business section of my local paper, the Boston Globe, ran an Associated Press story about Northwest Airlines. The report, picked up by media outlets around the country, focused on Northwest's ability to maintain a competitive edge by gutting and refurbishing its graying fleet of DC-9s rather than splurging, as others have, for newer aircraft. The article was accurate and ventured to make a valuable point: Along with the surprising vintage of Northwest's venerable Douglases (34 birthdays each), comes the equally surprising (to some) revelation that an old plane, assuming careful oversight, is by no means an unsafe one.

All good but for one thing: Displayed prominently above the text was this photograph.

The picture and caption lead us to believe we're seeing one of Northwest's geriatric DC-9s. Problem is, what's depicted is none other than a CRJ regional jet, manufactured (I looked up the registration) in 2003. Not only that, it isn't even a Northwest Airlines plane. The CRJ belongs to our friend Pinnacle Airlines, or Northwest "Jet Airlink," as stated on the fuselage.

The pic is identified as an Associated Press file photo. That's the same august body that only a month ago was trying to tell us Air China managed to get 300 people into a 737. But I have no idea whether the Globe or the AP was responsible for running the picture. Queries to both have gone unanswered.

I laugh as I type that, for honestly I'm not half the curmudgeon readers must think I am. But as an aerophile I'm hard-wired to notice, and scornfully respond to, the obvious infraction. Frankly, for the sake of accuracy and accountability, I hope enough surgeons, firefighters, nuclear technicians and environmental scientists out there suffer the same compulsion. It's common to find one or two errors in the typical aviation piece, and I have a ready-to-go e-mail template to harangue the offending reporter. Calling the kettle black, I know. The trick is keeping myself off the list of wrongdoers.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Do you have questions for Salon's aviation expert? Send them to AskThePilot and look for answers in a future column.

Recent Stories