The sea was angry, my friends.
Departing the known world on a path less traveled, weather reports hinted at light winds and brief interruptions with rain. Nothing uncommon this time of year, and certainly nothing to warrant any undue considerations of what we were later to experience. But I had a hunch. Briefed my crew and my passengers on what was to happen, thankfully masking what was originally unknown regarding the next twenty minutes.
Airspeed fluctuations of almost thirty knots momentarily quickly settled in at plus and minus ten as we descended into the valley. Descending through 18,000 feet, our landing lights turning on quickly enveloped the airplane with on and off flashes of white as we slowly descended through various strata of weather, weather that hid embedded thunderstorms to the north, and on and off rain showers all around, fueled by a fast moving cold front empowered by hundred knot winds down low.
The whole time, Mother Nature quickly jabbing us from the left, and hooking us from the right. A few brief uppercuts made great attempts to displace us from our course, a course carefully crafted between the mountain tops, all being managed by the airplane’s autopilot systems. Without skipping a beat, the airplane bobbed and weaved, responding instantly to the errant blows, while the flight crew valiantly wrestled the ongoing speed fluctuations manually, as the autothrottle system gave up the ghost.
Turning onto the final approach course, faint lights in the distance became those “land ahoy!” moments sailers of yore wrote about. Momentary reprieves from the ongoing battle, brought on by the airport lights being called to work, quickly faded away with the passing of a few random clouds, and the heavy rains they hid from any weather radar around. Having spent the last 15-20 minutes in this battle, these last remaining minutes were of most importance.
Slowing the ship, configuring for landing became a challenge. With each of Mother Nature’s final blows, airspeed fluctuations between structural limits and minimum safe speeds became quite close, close enough to warrant a momentary look of disgust from the chaperones watching this delicate dance take place. Heavy rains made modest attempts to hide the runway and force us to climb back through the muddied waters in which we just fought, only to try this once more.
To hell with that I said, and with nothing more than the decades of flying under my belt, any internal battles with fatigue were washed away as adrenaline filled my body, mustering up the courage to take the reins on this never-ending bucking bronco, and settle the ship one last moment.
The softest of meetings, our tires slowly spooled up meeting the damp runway in a manner yet to have happened. Quickly, visions of warranted clapping at the touchdown of our craft filled our minds, yet all my mouth could muster was a loud and poignant “HELL YEAH.” Quickly, the adrenaline that made this fairy tale ending quickly retreated back to its place of origin, to be covered up with a layer of humor, mixed with fatigue and quotes from the cinematic classic Jaws.
The looks of elation on all of our fellow adventurers similarly masked their own doubts and fears. On days like this, you quickly leave the wheelhouse only to stand before those who’ve entrusted you with making this safe passage. You stand there in your uniform which hides the scars from the night’s battle, you offer a kind smile, and thank them for their loyalty. And for those who were less than able to hide their trepidations, you let them know that if there’s anything to help settle down their anxieties, you remind them “well, at least we are fifteen minutes early.”
Shortly after our own voyage was complete, a fellow adventurer quickly made their way to the runway heading out into the great unknown. Empowering them with the lessons learned just moments prior, I tipped my cap to them and wished them well, as the clouds quickly swallowed their navigation lights.
Nights like tonight remind us adventurers that there are times for superior skills and superior judgement, and our goals should always be to exercise our superior judgement so our superior skills may not be necessary. But the oft chance that they are, we quickly call them to action and thank those who ushered us into this space for instilling those skills into our everyday lives. But for now, it’s been a near eighteen hour day, a day chocked full of ushering a new adventurer into this space, and having waged war with Mother Nature like never before, I’m taking the next few hours and recharging the batteries that made this all happen.
The sea was angry, my friends.