Robert P. Herbst
08-31-2007, 12:06 PM
In as much as there was an Airplane joke posted here, I thought you might enjoy an absolutely true story.
A FATED FLIGHT
Written August 3, 2005 Non Fiction 840 Words
Copyright © 2005 Robert P. Herbst. All rights reserved.
by
Robert P. Herbst
In 1965, I took my first wife to the Virgin Islands. I was interested in buying a home on one of the islands. Actually, I had been working for several years without a vacation and going to the Virgin Islands was one way to be sure there was no way I could be called back into the office, no matter how bad things got there.
We stopped at St. Croix first and spent some time just walking around. Unfortunately, this was at the same time when the natives of the Island were machine gunning tourists on the local golf course. The tension was so heavy, there was an oppressive feeling we got when walking the streets at night. There was an uneasy silence and it was almost loud enough to hear.
After exploring all the opportunities on St. Croix, we decided to see what St. Thomas (The Second Largest of the Three Islands) was all about. To get from one island to another, there was a flying boat service. The plane was a World War 2 military surplus PBY. We bought our tickets, boarded the cramped plane and assumed our positions in the crowded interior.
There were only two, rather austere seats on either side of the crowded interior of the plane. The seats were the small and uncomfortable military surplus type, but it wasn’t going to be a very long ride, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes in the air at the most.
The pilot came back to address us as we waited for take off. He told us the plane leaked a bit and once in the water, we had only fifteen minutes to get to takeoff position and become airborne, — or the plane would sink beneath us.
He promptly handed out life preservers. This was not the most reassuring thing he could have done, but the life preservers were an indication he did care about the safety of his passengers. This was all the attention we were to get on this flight. He vanished back into the cockpit and slammed the door behind him.
About then the engines roared, plane turned and headed down the launch ramp. When loading and unloading passengers, the plane had to be positioned at the top of the ramp pointed up upward so the water would drain back to the rear of the plane and out in between flights. The time for escape was past.
We all expected the worst as we could see the water coming into the plane from our seats. The water rose steadily and eventually covered the landing gear mechanism. We could see all this through slits in the floor of the plane.
The plane roared over the water in the take off area and, much to out amazement flew, leaving a long trail of water behind us. The flight to St. Thomas was unremarkable and actually quite smooth. It was quite a relief to see the water drain away from the landing gear mechanism as we flew the short distance, island to island.
Then it was time to land. I sat back in my seat holding my wife's trembling hand and assured her by saying, "We got here, didn't we. The worst was over."
At this point one must remember we took off in a sinking plane and we were about to put the same plane back into the water. I didn’t want to share these thoughts with my wife.
The touch down was as smooth as the take off, but once on the water the plane began to sink again. We turned and headed toward the ramp onto which we were to get up out of the water.
Suddenly, the co pilot raced back into the passenger compartment and dove head first down into the landing gear mechanism compartment. Sorting through the wave of absolutely foul language coming up from the gear housing, I figured out the landing gear we needed to get up on dry land had frozen in place because of the salt water in the mechanism and the landing gear would have to be manually cranked down.
Judging by his red face and the increasing torrent of bad language coming from the landing gear compartment, it had been a while since the manual system had been used and the gears were corroded. The Co Piolet strained and cursed the gears with language I hadn’t heard since the Typhoon upended two planes on the runway at Tokyo International Airport in the 50's and shut the Airport down completely.
Anyhow, we made it to the ramp and the co pilot did manage to get the wheels down in time, but by the time we were on dry land again our feet were wet. It was just that close, they had even opened the door and had us all set to abandon ship. If it wasn’t for stuff like this, life would be so dull.
A FATED FLIGHT
Written August 3, 2005 Non Fiction 840 Words
Copyright © 2005 Robert P. Herbst. All rights reserved.
by
Robert P. Herbst
In 1965, I took my first wife to the Virgin Islands. I was interested in buying a home on one of the islands. Actually, I had been working for several years without a vacation and going to the Virgin Islands was one way to be sure there was no way I could be called back into the office, no matter how bad things got there.
We stopped at St. Croix first and spent some time just walking around. Unfortunately, this was at the same time when the natives of the Island were machine gunning tourists on the local golf course. The tension was so heavy, there was an oppressive feeling we got when walking the streets at night. There was an uneasy silence and it was almost loud enough to hear.
After exploring all the opportunities on St. Croix, we decided to see what St. Thomas (The Second Largest of the Three Islands) was all about. To get from one island to another, there was a flying boat service. The plane was a World War 2 military surplus PBY. We bought our tickets, boarded the cramped plane and assumed our positions in the crowded interior.
There were only two, rather austere seats on either side of the crowded interior of the plane. The seats were the small and uncomfortable military surplus type, but it wasn’t going to be a very long ride, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes in the air at the most.
The pilot came back to address us as we waited for take off. He told us the plane leaked a bit and once in the water, we had only fifteen minutes to get to takeoff position and become airborne, — or the plane would sink beneath us.
He promptly handed out life preservers. This was not the most reassuring thing he could have done, but the life preservers were an indication he did care about the safety of his passengers. This was all the attention we were to get on this flight. He vanished back into the cockpit and slammed the door behind him.
About then the engines roared, plane turned and headed down the launch ramp. When loading and unloading passengers, the plane had to be positioned at the top of the ramp pointed up upward so the water would drain back to the rear of the plane and out in between flights. The time for escape was past.
We all expected the worst as we could see the water coming into the plane from our seats. The water rose steadily and eventually covered the landing gear mechanism. We could see all this through slits in the floor of the plane.
The plane roared over the water in the take off area and, much to out amazement flew, leaving a long trail of water behind us. The flight to St. Thomas was unremarkable and actually quite smooth. It was quite a relief to see the water drain away from the landing gear mechanism as we flew the short distance, island to island.
Then it was time to land. I sat back in my seat holding my wife's trembling hand and assured her by saying, "We got here, didn't we. The worst was over."
At this point one must remember we took off in a sinking plane and we were about to put the same plane back into the water. I didn’t want to share these thoughts with my wife.
The touch down was as smooth as the take off, but once on the water the plane began to sink again. We turned and headed toward the ramp onto which we were to get up out of the water.
Suddenly, the co pilot raced back into the passenger compartment and dove head first down into the landing gear mechanism compartment. Sorting through the wave of absolutely foul language coming up from the gear housing, I figured out the landing gear we needed to get up on dry land had frozen in place because of the salt water in the mechanism and the landing gear would have to be manually cranked down.
Judging by his red face and the increasing torrent of bad language coming from the landing gear compartment, it had been a while since the manual system had been used and the gears were corroded. The Co Piolet strained and cursed the gears with language I hadn’t heard since the Typhoon upended two planes on the runway at Tokyo International Airport in the 50's and shut the Airport down completely.
Anyhow, we made it to the ramp and the co pilot did manage to get the wheels down in time, but by the time we were on dry land again our feet were wet. It was just that close, they had even opened the door and had us all set to abandon ship. If it wasn’t for stuff like this, life would be so dull.