Helos in the Caribbean
Posted: May 2, 2004 7:49 am
Following is an email I recently got from a buddy of mine who I fly with here and there. We come from 2 different wars in completely different environments, and always find alot to talk about. Used to work with me at Chalks and then went to fly a Cessna Caravan on floats for the Miami Dolphins owner out to Nassau. Enjoy the read, it's a good story. Only thing he left out was the part about trying to get out of Haiti during massive civil unrest. That is a story in itself. The story is kind of long, but worth it. Just for understanding purposes, GPU is a ground power unit, used to start aircraft not equipped with an onboard auxiliary power unit. It is a large piece of equipment generally too large to be carried on most helos. How the hell they got a 300 lb GPU into a Huey I don't want to know about. Loading the pic of him and the Huey on images section.
--enjoy
Brendan
The attachment is the story of my flight to Haiti on 01 Jan.
Kev
How I spent my New Years Holiday
I ended the old year at low level and began the new year on a higher one.
30 Dec 2003
I got a call Monday afternoon from and aircraft operator. The boss was in a hurry to have an aircraft delivered. I got a promise of a job with good pay at a beautiful Caribbean location, thirty days minimum on a seventeen-month contract.
I drove to the airport and got a "Check Out " in the aircraft, after the mechanics put most of the big pieces back on. The check out consisted of flying once around the pattern, it might have gone on a little longer but the tower insisted that I return to the ramp until the transponder was made operable. Of course it was after sundown. I had flown hundreds of hours in the UH-1H with a Lycoming engine but this aircraft was an old US Air Force UH-1F with a GE engine, different animal. I had seen pictures of the F Model before, in historical publications. These aircraft were phased out of Air Force Service about thirty years ago. I did not know that there were any of them left outside of museums.
31 Dec 2003
Bright and early the loading drill began, i.e. empty out the hanger and pile it in the aircraft. The life raft was placed on the copilot seat. It was a big one from one of the jets, it weighted one hundred pounds. I wasn't worried about getting it out of the aircraft if I ditched because there was a three hundred pound GPU strapped to the rear cabin wall, it would have broken free and taken out the pilots seats. I think the loadmaster previously loaded Okie families onto their trucks for the trip to California. It kind of reminded me of the Beverly Hill Billies. The transponder was replaced. A placard read, "ELT Removed." I did not have time to find an other pilot to fly with me and the mechanic was unwilling to go along. I flew single pilot.
Unexpected delays prevented take off until an arrival in darkness at destination was ensured. I hate it when that happens. The tower complained about the transponder again.
Over Bimini the gyrocompass began to spin as if it were possessed; Welcome to the Bermuda Triangle.
Customs, Immigration and a hosing on the price of jet fuel in Nassau followed. More complaints about the transponder from ATC, I am glad that there is no low level RADAR coverage beyond this point. Late breaking news, George Town Airport is closed, diverting to Moss Town. There are many landing strips in the Bahamas but very few of them have fuel available.
Refueling at Moss Town in the Exumas' was uneventful. For some reason the GPS could not locate itself. The next leg to Great Inagua is 200nm over open ocean. This would allow only 30 minutes fuel remaining upon arrival after a two-hour flight and no alternate airport within range. Find the island or chum for sharks. The ceiling was dropping, visibility was down to eight to ten miles, there was a 90-degree crosswind...
After 30 minutes I returned to Moss Town. The sun was setting and so were my plans for the day. New Year's Eve in George Town; the fireworks were no competition for the band. The mega sound system was located under my hotel room window, they quit at 0200.
01 Jan 2004
0530 the refuler form the airport did not show up at the hotel as promised. Where to find a Taxi at 0600 on New Years Morning....? I was supposed to be at my destination on the evening of the 31st. The clock is running.
I got the old girl fired up, it took twenty-five minutes for the GPS to align itself, and finally I was airborne. The ceiling was low; I skirted a couple of rain showers. I backed up the GPS with Dead Reckoning and Pilotage. After passing the point of no return I deduced that the cross wind had sheared to a head wind, what joy. I didn’t dwell on the intermittent GPS and headwind. I had my hands full with the lowering ceiling and decreasing visibility; only about seventy miles to go.
Two hours and thirteen minutes had elapsed since takeoff. My instrument scan dissolved into an oscillation between the wet compass and the fuel gauge. Words cannot express my delight when the Island of Great Inagua appeared through the haze. I landed on the near abandoned ramp. The fuel gauge read one hundred pounds remaining, no sweat, that was enough for at least another ten minutes of flying.
I paid the landing fees and consulted with the Immigration Official. The two fine fellows who dispensed fuel were a little disconcerting. They would accept only cash, no credit cards. After a short discussion which included a small element of groveling and pleading (and I want to make a point here, there was NO whining) we piled into their pick up truck and proceeded to their manager’s home. The fueler awoke the manager by banging on her bedroom window. This poor lady appeared at the door, it was only then did I remember it was before noon on New Year’s Day, this was the morning after the night before. She considered that I would remain on their island forever if we could not find common ground. The manager authorized payment of the $500 fuel bill by check through the mail, back into the truck and back to the airstrip.
The battery would not start the engine. There was not one external power unit on the island that would adapt to my aircraft. (I consulted with a US Coast Guard Detachment on the island, they offered their support but their state of the art GPU was not compatible with my antique aircraft.) I glanced at the pile of stuff in the back of the aircraft, that three hundred pound GPU was at the bottom of the pile of equipment. It must have been quite a sight, the cargo door slid back and a long black electrical cable emerging from the cabin and trailing back to the electrical connection on the rear of the fuselage. I guess this time it was all right to fly while still connected to the GPU. I hovered to the fuel pumps, after refueling and starting the engine again the fueler disconnected the electrical cable and slid the door closed. I was on my way again.
Ten minutes after take off the GPS quit. Needle, ball and airspeed, a chart and a compass. I dead reckoned my way south. Seventy miles later I crossed the north coast of Haiti within a mile of my planned landfall. I crossed the northern peninsula and turned southeast to Port Au Prince. Forty miles out, I contacted approach control and notified them of my intentions. I guess it was the quiet that alerted me; the level of expected chatter on the approach control frequency was just not there. The communication radio had quit. I was arriving over a foreign capital in a former military aircraft without advanced notice during their Independence Day Celebration. What next, fighters? I had been briefed on which hanger our operation was based. I shot my approach to that spot, I over flew a few Curtis C-46s with Air Haiti markings and taxied onto the ramp.
I was surprised by what I found. The ground handler directed me to land on a trailer. I shut down the engine and applied the rotor brake. As soon as the big fan stopped turning the aircraft was quickly rolled into a hanger and serviced. I was told that our next mission was in thirty minutes. Have you ever arrived at an event and immediately felt a sick feeling when you realized you were not dressed right. I did, I felt naked. Everyone around me was wearing a gun and I did not have one, that is truly naked. The mechanic informed me that the other aircraft had holes in them. I logged eight hours of flight time during the twenty-four hour trip.
We were supporting the Haitian Bi-Centennial Independence Day activities. President Jean-Bertrand Aristide and his entourage were our passengers. The other helicopters began to arrive on the ramp. Standing on the skids, with machineguns in hand were several Rambo like commandos. Their job was to protect the dignitaries. This was de ja vu all over again. I was a Marine Child again in Saigon where my love affair with helicopters began.
I expected to stay in Haiti for a month. No plan is perfect. After some discussion we decided that I should return to Miami and spend time in Haiti the following month. I climbed into the back of the company hack and we departed for Florida. Shortly after take off the co-pilot walked back and told me the boss wanted to speak to me in the cockpit. I buckled into the right seat. He invited me to take the controls. I followed his instructions through the departure and climb out. I guess he liked my control touch and knowledge of the instrument procedures. After half an hour he suggested that he put me to work flying this airplane rather than returning to the helicopters in Haiti. It seems like a good idea.
I kept the needles glued to his specifications. “Maintain a minimum of .74 Mach in the climb.” We leveled off at FL390 for the ninety-minute flight to Opa-Locka. I think that I will like the Lear-35.
--enjoy
Brendan
The attachment is the story of my flight to Haiti on 01 Jan.
Kev
How I spent my New Years Holiday
I ended the old year at low level and began the new year on a higher one.
30 Dec 2003
I got a call Monday afternoon from and aircraft operator. The boss was in a hurry to have an aircraft delivered. I got a promise of a job with good pay at a beautiful Caribbean location, thirty days minimum on a seventeen-month contract.
I drove to the airport and got a "Check Out " in the aircraft, after the mechanics put most of the big pieces back on. The check out consisted of flying once around the pattern, it might have gone on a little longer but the tower insisted that I return to the ramp until the transponder was made operable. Of course it was after sundown. I had flown hundreds of hours in the UH-1H with a Lycoming engine but this aircraft was an old US Air Force UH-1F with a GE engine, different animal. I had seen pictures of the F Model before, in historical publications. These aircraft were phased out of Air Force Service about thirty years ago. I did not know that there were any of them left outside of museums.
31 Dec 2003
Bright and early the loading drill began, i.e. empty out the hanger and pile it in the aircraft. The life raft was placed on the copilot seat. It was a big one from one of the jets, it weighted one hundred pounds. I wasn't worried about getting it out of the aircraft if I ditched because there was a three hundred pound GPU strapped to the rear cabin wall, it would have broken free and taken out the pilots seats. I think the loadmaster previously loaded Okie families onto their trucks for the trip to California. It kind of reminded me of the Beverly Hill Billies. The transponder was replaced. A placard read, "ELT Removed." I did not have time to find an other pilot to fly with me and the mechanic was unwilling to go along. I flew single pilot.
Unexpected delays prevented take off until an arrival in darkness at destination was ensured. I hate it when that happens. The tower complained about the transponder again.
Over Bimini the gyrocompass began to spin as if it were possessed; Welcome to the Bermuda Triangle.
Customs, Immigration and a hosing on the price of jet fuel in Nassau followed. More complaints about the transponder from ATC, I am glad that there is no low level RADAR coverage beyond this point. Late breaking news, George Town Airport is closed, diverting to Moss Town. There are many landing strips in the Bahamas but very few of them have fuel available.
Refueling at Moss Town in the Exumas' was uneventful. For some reason the GPS could not locate itself. The next leg to Great Inagua is 200nm over open ocean. This would allow only 30 minutes fuel remaining upon arrival after a two-hour flight and no alternate airport within range. Find the island or chum for sharks. The ceiling was dropping, visibility was down to eight to ten miles, there was a 90-degree crosswind...
After 30 minutes I returned to Moss Town. The sun was setting and so were my plans for the day. New Year's Eve in George Town; the fireworks were no competition for the band. The mega sound system was located under my hotel room window, they quit at 0200.
01 Jan 2004
0530 the refuler form the airport did not show up at the hotel as promised. Where to find a Taxi at 0600 on New Years Morning....? I was supposed to be at my destination on the evening of the 31st. The clock is running.
I got the old girl fired up, it took twenty-five minutes for the GPS to align itself, and finally I was airborne. The ceiling was low; I skirted a couple of rain showers. I backed up the GPS with Dead Reckoning and Pilotage. After passing the point of no return I deduced that the cross wind had sheared to a head wind, what joy. I didn’t dwell on the intermittent GPS and headwind. I had my hands full with the lowering ceiling and decreasing visibility; only about seventy miles to go.
Two hours and thirteen minutes had elapsed since takeoff. My instrument scan dissolved into an oscillation between the wet compass and the fuel gauge. Words cannot express my delight when the Island of Great Inagua appeared through the haze. I landed on the near abandoned ramp. The fuel gauge read one hundred pounds remaining, no sweat, that was enough for at least another ten minutes of flying.
I paid the landing fees and consulted with the Immigration Official. The two fine fellows who dispensed fuel were a little disconcerting. They would accept only cash, no credit cards. After a short discussion which included a small element of groveling and pleading (and I want to make a point here, there was NO whining) we piled into their pick up truck and proceeded to their manager’s home. The fueler awoke the manager by banging on her bedroom window. This poor lady appeared at the door, it was only then did I remember it was before noon on New Year’s Day, this was the morning after the night before. She considered that I would remain on their island forever if we could not find common ground. The manager authorized payment of the $500 fuel bill by check through the mail, back into the truck and back to the airstrip.
The battery would not start the engine. There was not one external power unit on the island that would adapt to my aircraft. (I consulted with a US Coast Guard Detachment on the island, they offered their support but their state of the art GPU was not compatible with my antique aircraft.) I glanced at the pile of stuff in the back of the aircraft, that three hundred pound GPU was at the bottom of the pile of equipment. It must have been quite a sight, the cargo door slid back and a long black electrical cable emerging from the cabin and trailing back to the electrical connection on the rear of the fuselage. I guess this time it was all right to fly while still connected to the GPU. I hovered to the fuel pumps, after refueling and starting the engine again the fueler disconnected the electrical cable and slid the door closed. I was on my way again.
Ten minutes after take off the GPS quit. Needle, ball and airspeed, a chart and a compass. I dead reckoned my way south. Seventy miles later I crossed the north coast of Haiti within a mile of my planned landfall. I crossed the northern peninsula and turned southeast to Port Au Prince. Forty miles out, I contacted approach control and notified them of my intentions. I guess it was the quiet that alerted me; the level of expected chatter on the approach control frequency was just not there. The communication radio had quit. I was arriving over a foreign capital in a former military aircraft without advanced notice during their Independence Day Celebration. What next, fighters? I had been briefed on which hanger our operation was based. I shot my approach to that spot, I over flew a few Curtis C-46s with Air Haiti markings and taxied onto the ramp.
I was surprised by what I found. The ground handler directed me to land on a trailer. I shut down the engine and applied the rotor brake. As soon as the big fan stopped turning the aircraft was quickly rolled into a hanger and serviced. I was told that our next mission was in thirty minutes. Have you ever arrived at an event and immediately felt a sick feeling when you realized you were not dressed right. I did, I felt naked. Everyone around me was wearing a gun and I did not have one, that is truly naked. The mechanic informed me that the other aircraft had holes in them. I logged eight hours of flight time during the twenty-four hour trip.
We were supporting the Haitian Bi-Centennial Independence Day activities. President Jean-Bertrand Aristide and his entourage were our passengers. The other helicopters began to arrive on the ramp. Standing on the skids, with machineguns in hand were several Rambo like commandos. Their job was to protect the dignitaries. This was de ja vu all over again. I was a Marine Child again in Saigon where my love affair with helicopters began.
I expected to stay in Haiti for a month. No plan is perfect. After some discussion we decided that I should return to Miami and spend time in Haiti the following month. I climbed into the back of the company hack and we departed for Florida. Shortly after take off the co-pilot walked back and told me the boss wanted to speak to me in the cockpit. I buckled into the right seat. He invited me to take the controls. I followed his instructions through the departure and climb out. I guess he liked my control touch and knowledge of the instrument procedures. After half an hour he suggested that he put me to work flying this airplane rather than returning to the helicopters in Haiti. It seems like a good idea.
I kept the needles glued to his specifications. “Maintain a minimum of .74 Mach in the climb.” We leveled off at FL390 for the ninety-minute flight to Opa-Locka. I think that I will like the Lear-35.