Feature

News for crews with no loos

Alice Lovell goes behind closed doors to investigate a neglected occupational health issue

In short flights, thoughts about facilities rarely cross my mind. I make a beeline for the loo at the airport and after landing. But unless possessing the capacity of a camel, most people have ‘to go’ on longer journeys.

On a recent flight to Hong Kong, I sat in row one near the galley and loo. The advantage of being close when nature called was outweighed by intermittent flushing sounds and the street theatre of the traffic to the loo.

I noticed a flight attendant nipping into the loo. I have never been under the illusion that aircrew are different from the rest of us but had assumed that they had their own superior arrangements. Wanting to stretch my legs, I wandered down the plane to another galley. A flight attendant, Doreen, (pseudonym) offered me tea.

Sipping tea at midnight surrounded by sleeping bodies emboldened me to ask Doreen whether staff have their own toilets. She registered my surprise at her ‘no’ response and warmed to the topic. She felt sorry for the captain who no longer had his own lavatory. It had been removed to make space for more seats.

Airlines look for all kinds of ways to get more punters on board. More passengers mean that staff work under increasing pressure to get through their routines. When they clunk round with trolleys bearing meals, drinks and duty free, it is like the patient in hospital being woken for a sleeping tablet. Keeping on the move goes with the job and takes your mind off your bladder and this was Doreen’s coping strategy. In other words, most of the time, the crew are like camels. I asked:

‘What about the difficulties encountered by female members of staff?’ She provided anecdotes drawn from a fund of her own and colleagues’ menstrual experiences. In emergencies, she had occasionally used the first class facilities: ‘But they (the passengers) don’t like it... you should see their faces.’

I regretted the lack of a tape recorder. Doreen had had a catalogue of health problems consistent with Lessor’s findings, including fatigue and frequent bladder infections, dehydration and the stress of not having time to drink sufficient water or to urinate frequently.¹ Doreen was launching into a kidney problem story when another passenger appeared and the impromptu interview ended. Before I returned to my seat, she thanked me for my concern commenting that nobody had ever asked her these questions before: ‘It is unusual for a passenger to care about the convenience and comfort of the crew.’

Curious to see if I was unusually ignorant, a straw poll at work (a university department) confirmed the shared assumption that flight attendants had separate facilities. My colleagues admitted that they had never really thought about it.

I rang the airline’s head office and was passed from one department to another like an unwanted parcel. Customer relations assumed I was enquiring about passenger provision: ‘Have you a complaint?’

Explaining that I wanted to know about crew provision, the response was: ‘I’ve never thought about that... Reservations would be bound to know... they have the configuration of the aircraft.’

Reservations rattled off the number of passenger lavatories in each class. Her plan did not show crew provision: ‘Crew have their own rest area. I would think that they’d have their own toilet there... there is no way of knowing.’

How I could find out? The tone became steely: ‘Is there any special reason you want to know?’ I was told about a department which had the precise aircraft configuration. But: ‘You can’t speak to anyone about the crew. I could ring but why do you want to know? I can’t disclose that information.’

But who, I pleaded, would know? ‘The press officer. Are you press? They won’t speak to people not in the media.’

My mounting telephone bill made me wish I had applied for research funding. I tried public relations who quoted from a ‘fact sheet’ — numbers of crew and passengers but not number of lavatories: ‘As far as I know, crew never had a ‘dedicated’ lavatory. They usually use first class.’

The Civil Aviation Authority quoted regulations about staffing levels and rest periods. Crew may have to share passenger’s facilities — CAA do not insist on dedicated lavatory space for crew. According to the British Airline Pilot Association: ‘The fact that the pilot’s facilities are increasingly being acquired for the passengers is an issue of union disquiet. There is no mandatory requirement...it depends on the airline. In the past, the ‘norm’ was for dedicated crew facilities.’

This applies to pilots and flight engineers not cabin crew. The Cabin Crew 89 union representative described the rest area with bed, basin, mirror and hanging space for uniforms: ‘They don’t worry about the lack of privacy. Our girls are used to it.’

He voiced health concerns: ‘Aircraft are not covered by the health and safety act... there is a high incidence of kidney stones in men.’

Lavatories? ‘Staff learn to avoid the rush hour.’

Is it any wonder that farewells by cabin crew are accompanied by the occasional constipated smile?