Thursday, November 13, 2008

You Take the Plane, I'll Take the Train

Senior "Snow Birds" will no doubt be delighted with the recent news that Allegiant Airlines is adding Grand Rapids to it's flight schedule. Allegiant is a "budget" airline, and for a short time, they'll be offering one-way flights to Orlando for $89.00, raising to $109.00 later on. That will make it much more affordable for those "Snow Birds" who head South in the early Autumn, and wish to return North for Thanksgiving and/or Christmas et cetera. That would not be the case for yours truly.

I am not what you would term a "Comfy Flyer". If I were ever to become a "Snow Bird", it wouldn't be because I flew South, although, in a pinch, I do get on the crazy things. My Dad never flew. He loved to watch planes take off and land, but said many times, "I know it appears that they take off, fly around and land, but I'm still convinced that they can't do it." That from a man whose youngest son was a career Air Force man.

My Darlin' Darlene is a "Comfy Flyer". So, whenever it's been absolutely necessary that we fly somewhere, she has a field day with my fear factor. Her comedienne side takes over bigtime; no mercy.

I didn't always hate it. I came by my distaste for flying quite honestly. As a younger man, I was Sales Manager for a company that had Dealers from Denver to Presque Isle, Maine, and I flew regularly. On one of those trips, I had a connection from St. Louis to Indianapolis. The aircraft was a British something or other with two tail-mounted engines. Just after takeoff, immediately after the landing gear retracted, the starboard engine blew up, rocking the plane violently. The craft began wallowing side to side, until the pilot, bless his heart, manged to get it under control, and announced calmly, bless his soul, that we would be returning immediately to the airport. I would have preferred him to say that we would be returning in a short while, since I was already thinking that if the other engine went, we'd be returning somewhere immediately, airport or no airport. As we landed, it was comforting, but not much, to see Firetrucks and all sorts of emergency vehicles racing alongside us on the runway.

Inside the airport, insanely, we all queued up at the counter to re-book our flights, since our previous one hadn't gone anywhere. One fellow begged to be allowed to go to the head of the line, as it was imperative that he get on the very next available flight. Most of us were not really in that much of a hurry to board another airplane, so we agreed. He very excitedly explained his situation to the agent, who quickly complied, and asked, "Smoking section?" (Remember ?), to which the man replied, "Yes, and drinking too!"

Another experience that contributed to my lack of "Friendly Skies" enthusiasm happened in Miami. I was bound for Nassau for a Hobie Cat Sailboats convention, departing on Air Florida, but the airplane had mechanical problems, and the flight was scrubbed. We were told that our tickets would be honored by Bahamas Air. In retrospect, I'm convinced that the only time Air Bahamas actually has paying passengers is when real airlines' flights are scrubbed.

My confidence level, already sinking, hit a record low when I walked out on the tarmac, and saw the Bahamas Air flying machine. I'm still not convinced that it wasn't the first ever licensed, closed-cabin, passenger-carrying aircraft. But, as Shelley Berman once said, as he told about hearing a strange sound from an engine while he was on a plane, about to take off, "You don't know who to tell, and you wouldn't if you knew, because you'd rather die than make an ass of yourself."


I boarded. The fabric was peeling on the plane's interior, and many of the seats were actually repaired with duct tape. There were holes worn in the aisle carpeting. I found my seat and sat. Then, The Pilot boarded. I thought, " Omigod! It's Wiley Post re-incarnated, or maybe Charles Lindbergh's father." This man was far too old to be out of The Home, on his own. But, I said nothing. The Pilot closed the door to the cockpit, which promptly flew open again. He slammed it two or three times before it finally stayed shut. The real fear set in when The Pilot started the engines. Billows of black smoke poured from one engine, I don't recall if it was port or starboard, but, the smoke was so heavy and oily that it sank to the ground rather than rising into the air, as smoke is supposed to do. As the smoke sank, so my confidence level sank to a new, world-class low. The smoky engine sputtered and mis-fired, eventually smoothing out except with a fairly regular miss. I said nothing.

As we accelerated down the runway, the cockpit door jarred open again and Old Smoky missed steadily, causing the aircraft to jerk annoyingly, which it did all the way across the open water until we landed in Nassau. I was tempted to kiss the ground, but I didn't want to make an ass of myself.

Finally, while on a 747 flight from Paris to New York, about halfway across the Atlantic, our pilot announced that one of our four engines had quit running, but that the Boeing 747 was very capable of flying on less than it's allotted four. I don't recall if he said how many less than four, but I do recall that he said, "Have no fear". Easy for him to say. It did remind me, though, of a situation that I heard about, involving a Lufthansa 747, trans-Atlantic flight.

It seems that about a quarter way across the Atlantic, the Lufthansa 747 lost the use of an engine. True to form, the pilot made the announcement that there was no danger. Then, at about midway, the Point of No Return (Dontcha just love it?), the pilot announced that a second engine had failed, but not to fear. A short while later, the Head Steward's voice came over the address system, and in his best Deutsch-ish English said, " Ladies und Chentlemen! I'm afraid dat ve are haffink a serious problem vit bote of our remainink engines, und it vill be necessary for us to ditch in de Ocean. Please follow dese instructions carefully. Ve vould like all of de shvimmers to move to de port side, dats left, of de aircraft, und all of de non-shvimmers to move to de shtarboard side, dats right, of de aircraft. Move now please." The passengers did as they were instructed. The Steward continued, "Now, to de shvimmers. When de aircraft shtops movink in de wasser, de exit hatches vill open automatically. You are to exit de aircraft und shvim as qvickly as possible for about 100 meters, avay from de aircraft. Now, to de non-shvimmers. Ve vould like to take dis opportunity to tank you for flyink Lufthansa."

Wish My Darlin' Darlene and I were Snow Birds.

Have yourself a wonderful day, because it's a wonderful day out there !

Later,

Don Lehr (Michguy)