In the sixties I too dreamed of what I'd do when the pilot's died at the controls.
I could see myself flying a Viscount or DC-6 in. I'd been in the jump seat plenty of times, but didn't have a clue of what was going on.
Remember how YOU felt when you went into the great big 172 or Warrior from the 152 or Tomahawk? Big?... a bit scary?
I got a go in a Friendship when I had 100 hours. The pilot was a mate of my father and the old man was the boss.
I was very wary of how big that F27 was and how I'd have to be gentle on the controlls with ALL those passengers down the back. I tried leveling out from the climb and got 400 feet high before I had her trimmed and oozing back down to cruise level. (For the those who get appalled at the captain allowing such a large discrepancy ... we were out in the middle of Australia well above ten thousand feet where only a rare airliner flew. and we were the only ones out there at that time.)
Five years later with 900 hours on the DC-3, I sat in the jump seat of a 727 and was totally lost as they landed. I said WOW! as we slowed down and the pilots said, "What?"
"So fast and so high when we touched down."
"Hell we were thinking it was so SLOW!"
Years later the change from DC-9 to 737 ... another somewhat initially tense time converting from a very similar performer to another.
Guys you have NO idea. It is VERY different when you are all by yourself and it's real... no reset button... ya die if you bugger it up.
It's a bit like making a speech. Smooth in front of the mirror, but blathering and stumbling when you are out there in front of a crowd.