LAND!...
Put down your rosaries, I'm back safe and sound!
All I can say is, "What a ride!"
Since I was incommunicado for the duration of the flight, I kept a computerized journal, beginning with my arrival at the Raytheon Aircraft Services hangar at Tampa International Airport. Enjoy!
MIDNIGHT -- Arrived at the hangar. Greeted by the flight crew and pilots lazing about on sofas, drinking all of the Starbucks they could get their hands on. I, having enjoyed four sweet teas, decided to keep up the caffeine kick, and gulped down a hot tea as well. It's going to be a LONG night.
1 a.m. -- Briefing in the pilots' information room. Right now, Wilma is moving at only 3 mph, and is still a strong Category 4 storm. Tour the plane and get basic safety tips about oxygen masks, etc. Sit around and listen to tales of hurricane flights past.
1:45 a.m. -- Very smooth take-off. Realized quickly that arm rests are the single most under-rated aircraft piece ever, as our seats have none. The seats all have computers at their terminals, but using the Internet costs about $10 per minute. Sorry guys -- you'll just have to wait until I hit the ground.
2:40 a.m. -- First major turbulence shifts me out of my seat so hard, that I would have been on the floor were it not for my 5-point seatbelt. The seatbelt has harnesses that go over each shoulder, across my lap, and between my legs.
2:45 a.m. -- Pilots and flight director begin discussing aforementioned turbulence. "We didn't even see that coming!" said the pilot. NOT what a passenger likes to hear...
The thrust from our seats was apparently caused by a cloud growth, which can sprout up like a slow volcano. As we are flying at 42,000 feet (the normal altitude for commercial flights is between 31,000 and 39,000 feet), it's hard for the pilots to see what's going on below them, especially in the middle of the night.
Sounds simple enough, but still -- yikes.
3:30 a.m. -- Encounter pretty bad turbulence all around coast of Cuba. We are not permitted to fly in Cuban airspace, and are forced to go around the western edge of Cuba, adding about an hour to our trip. Damn Castro.
4 a.m. -- Try for a nap as we head towards the Yucatan peninsula. Failed miserably. Too bumpy and the plane keeps shifting. No worries, though. Except that the research meteorologist comments this is the bumpiest flight he's been on during this storm (it's his third). Super...
5 a.m. -- Flying over Cozumel, Honduras and Belize. The meteorologists are beginning to get data that can be read. The way they collect data is by dropping small tubes containing global positioning devices, which read the air's atmospheric pressure, temperature, humidity and wind directions, among other things. These devices are dropped 24 times during the course of the flight in pre-planned locations near Cuba, the Yucatan and all over the Gulf of Mexico. Readings are received immediately and are transferred directly to Miami's NOAA Hurricane Center for analysis. All together, they will help determine predictions for the 11 a.m. advisory.
I also got to log in the coordinates that help the NOAA make their predictions. The ones I did were for the sensor drop on the southern end of Cuba. Cool!
5:45 a.m. -- Just took a few gulps of air in the oxygen mask overhead. The air is extremely thin here, making it difficult to breathe at times. Also have been warned to stay hydrated, as there is a risk of passing out once departing the plane. Again, super...
6:50 a.m. -- Have received our first comprehensive data readings from the previous drops. It appears that the winds from this storm will reach out for more than 200 miles, and will begin affecting SW Florida sometime later tonight. Tropical storm winds will begin whipping the coast by tomorrow morning. Research meteorologist predicts the storm will most likely hit Naples, or some area just north of it, head-on. All computer models thus far have lined up in agreement that Collier County is likely in the path of the storm. All could change, however, depending on how slowly the storm moves over the Yucatan. Meteorologists are beginning to see signs of a heavy front that will inevitably push the storm into Florida's west coast.
OK, so they told us that we need to stay hydrated, because of the intense pressure, but what goes along with hydration? Urination! A lot of it. In the world's smallest, most uncomfortable bathroom in the world. I think I may have been better off in a litter box. I swear, if I come off this flight with an injury, it will have occurred in that bathroom.
7:20 a.m. -- The sun is beginning to break over the clouds, producing the most beautiful red and purple sunrise imaginable. We are just south of Louisiana, and the coastline is lit with bright lights just below the horizon. Unbelievable.
7:45 a.m. -- For the first time, we are able to see just how high above the clouds we are. Everything below looks like little pillows, glistening in the orange sunlight. Soft, fluffy pillows. OK, maybe I'm getting a bit delirious...
8:30 a.m. -- After rather smooth sailing, we are back to extreme turbulence. Mostly bumps, though. Nothing like the drops we experienced in Cuba. The pilot just broadcasted over our headphones that the duration of the flight will likely be as bumpy. We still have 4 or 5 sensors left to drop. Great.
9:30 a.m. -- After another hour of turbulence, we finally touched down back at Tampa International. While the pilots got to debrief and go home to sleep, I have to drive back to Naples and write my article. Will post it when I'm done. Thanks for reading!
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