Wind Shorn

[ornoth]

Wow. I’m alive. I would have put money against that not too long ago.

It’s really funny how most flights are fine, and then some flights are just cursed.

Case in point: Tuesday’s American Eagle 5162 from San Juan to St. Thomas.

The boarding process went pretty normally. Once everyone was seated and ready to go, the flight attendant (male) came on to tell us that we’d be delayed because only one of the two pilots had reported. The missing crewman arrived after about fifteen minutes.

We finally got out onto the runway for takeoff, but we never got up to speed and wound up aborting the takeoff. Apparently an indicator light had gone off, and the pilots decided to abort and tinker with it a bit before going on.

After another 15 minutes or so, we did successfully get off, but from then on it was a 30-minute roller coaster ride, as our little ATR 72 prop plane got tossed around in the wind. The airport at St. Thomas recorded sustained 25 mph winds and 35 mph gusts, and it was much worse aloft, with the wind coming over the island’s high ridge and directly across the airport’s one runway.

Making our approach, the little commuter plane was tossed twenty feet in a random direction every few seconds. Everyone knew we were going to crash: some swore, some assumed the crash position, and others—myself included—had a death-grip on their seats. The flight attendant (male) who was seated facing us mouthed the words “OH MY GOD!” We somehow managed to get within about ten feet of touching down, but we were traveling sideways above the runway at 200 miles per hour, and the pilots gave it the gas and thankfully aborted the landing.

However, even climbing out of the area was a terrifying ride, as the plane was thrown around in the crosswinds. It didn’t seem to be getting any better when the pilot announced that we were going to swing around and try again. It was at this point that I accepted the idea that we were 90 percent likely to die.

So we turned and made another approach, and it was just as horrific as the first. Thankfully, we didn’t get within 1000 feet of the ground before the pilots waved off again. Within a couple minutes, they announced that we were headed back to San Juan. That was a relief, although I was concerned about the winds in San Juan.

That was a bit prescient, because the approach and landing in San Juan were pretty rough, although nothing like the imminent death that landing in St. Thomas had been. I had chills and was shaking from head to toe as we deplaned, and I was looking forward to a long break in the terminal while the airline waited for the weather in St. Thomas to improve.

Just ten minutes later, American Eagle had us re-board that death trap. As I stepped onto the stairway, I thought for sure that it would be the last time I would touch the Earth alive.

And then we waited. Eventually the flight attendant (male) announced that a party of four had left the flight, having missed their connection (in St. Thomas???) to Las Vegas. But that meant the airline had to unload all the luggage, retrieve the departed people’s bags, re-weigh the remaining bags, and load it all back into the aircraft. Wait, wait, wait; for about an hour. The only good thing was that it delayed my certain death, and gave the weather more time to (dear god please) improve.

We left San Juan, and the 30-minute flight to St. Thomas was noticeably smoother, although it might have been a bit rough by normal standards. Everyone’s nerves were on edge as we made our approach, and everyone prayed and assumed the crash position. It was really rough, but there seemed to be a 50 percent chance of our getting down safely.

The rear wheels touched down and one of the more religious women started clapping. Her friend shushed her immediately, knowing that getting two wheels down hardly equated with safety. We stayed on the rear gear for an uncomfortably long time while we waited for the gust that would push our wing over and flip the aircraft, but it never came. The pilot eventually slammed the front gear down and we stayed down. Then, after another long moment of waiting for them to activate the air brakes, the flaps came up and we started to slow.

It might tell you something that the first sound to be heard after we touched down was the sound of our flight attendant (male) clapping over the airplane’s intercom.

The flight, which was supposed to land at 12:12pm, got in at 3:05pm. And even on the ground, outside the airport, the wind was blowing a gale.

Sadly, I’ve got at least two more of those flights to go, and you have no idea how much I’m dreading them…

Comments

[ailsaek.livejournal.com]

Yow. I'm glad you survived the experience, and I hope you keep on doing so for the foreseeable future.

[ornoth.livejournal.com]

Aww. You still care! *kiss*

[ditav.livejournal.com]

Glad that your feet are touching the Earth yet again, safe and sound.

[ornoth.livejournal.com]

Thanks, DV. Here's hoping your travel stays safe, too. Glad to hear it's improving overall, too.

[keimel.livejournal.com]

The ATR72 sounds like it's as much fun as flying a Beech 1900 into Rockport Maine.

[ornoth.livejournal.com]

Rockport has an airport? Really? You're kidding... Augusta barely rates one!

[keimel.livejournal.com]

Surprisingly, Rockport's is on the way to Augusta sometimes.

I used to fly from Augusta when it was comparably priced compared to PWM, as I live only 12 minutes from Augusta's airport.

Sometimes they (Colgan Air) take a stop in Rockport before they land in Augusta. They shut down the left engine while they deplane the people and throw their bags out. Then they close the hatch, restart the left engine and off you go to Augusta.

It's an experience. ;)