My first flight there in a Cessna 172 was in 1970, I have gone back several times, but that visit 5 decades ago is the one to remember.
This time of year, a confluence of dog tired, plenty of money, and perfect weather occurred. The exact date was 7/17/1970, so more than half a century.
The new substation was way behind schedule, due to late delivery of the new equipment, and it did not go on line until after the summer peak but the weather was still near maximum air-conditioning loads. Work in an un air-conditioned, windowless building in the heat of summer is tough, and 12 hour days to push completion makes it even worse.
After 10 consecutive days of 12 hours, Friday afternoon completed the in service of the last feeder. The weekend would be free!
I called the scheduler, found the Cessna 172 was available from 8 that evening until 4 the next day, and took all that time. Next, a call home and asked Shirley if she would like to go to the beach for a day? Yes! Pack and be ready when I get home, we are flying to Kitty Hawk tonight. I already had my sandwich from the local carry out; I had not eaten supper at home for 10 days, so no meal delay. I arrived home about 7, created and filed a flight plan, loaded the car, drove to College Park airport, and waited at the gas pumps for the plane to return. While they filled the tanks, I preflighted the plane and loaded the suitcase, overnight case, and my flight case.
Weather was CAVU, Ceiling And Visibility Unlimited, near no wind, and the nearly full moon had risen as the sun set. As soon as I left the pattern to the south, I activated my flight plan with DCA approach, National Airport, and started receiving radar service, followed by a transfer to south departure control. The route was basically direct Norfolk, and then direct First Flight. Just as we passed between DCA and ADW, Andrews Air Base, an airline DC3 departed to the south on Victor 3, less than a mile away, and we shared the frequency for the next half hour. The boys reported the bright rotating beacon. The DC 3 is a slow plane, and it did not pass us immediately and only gradually pulled ahead as our paths diverged. The boys lost sight of it about when it passed over Richmond.
Shirley was not too happy when she learned there were no runway lights at First Flight, but I assured her that if we did not have a solid identification of the runway on our first pass at altitude, we would go to Elizabeth City for the night, and fly back to the beach in the morning. From the VOR at Norfolk, we took the radial that intersected the bridge out to the seashore, then turned south and flew ADF toward the nautical beacon at Nags Head. I had told Shirley that we would fly the exact minutes from the bridge to over the runway, and if not in sight, that was it. However, as we logged the arrival time at the bridge, I pointed out the brilliant light on the Memorial, and fresh, very black asphalt runway on the light tan sand of the airport. She was just as sure as I that we had the airport in sight, and I started the descent from 3,500 feet, arriving at pattern altitude, and landed.
The office was closed, but there was a pay phone booth, so I tied down, and went to the booth with my flash light and a bunch of dimes. Mosquitoes were in abundant supply, so quickly closing the door was essential. The first Motel I called was the perfect lucky choice….No vacancy, but the clerk was a pilot! When asked if he knew of another Motel that might have a vacancy, he volunteered to call and find one for me. I gave him the pay phone number and my top price limit, and within 5 minutes, he called back and said the clerk there was on the way. And by the way, I thought there were no runway lights? I explained the bright moon and new asphalt on tan sand, and he fully understood. He flew a B 24 bombing Germany in WW 2, and knew how much you can see on a bright moonlit night. We talked flying until the car arrived, I thanked him profusely, and we were off to the beach
We had an efficiency apartment for much less than the normal rate, but had to be out before noon, as It was rented for the next 7 nights She gave it to us cheap, as it was her last vacancy, and the pilot had been persuasive.
At the crack of dawn, Shirley and I rose, decided what we wanted to eat for breakfast and lunch. She walked to the nearby 7/11, and bought groceries, while I dressed the boys in swim suits and went out on the beach. When breakfast was ready she called us in. After we ate, she made sandwiches, and back to the beach. The boys were 4 and 6, the waves were about a foot high, and water so clear that you could see fish of all sizes swimming in the crests. Perfect conditions and the beach there is very shallow slope, so we could wade way out without getting more than waist deep.
When I went back to check out at 9, the day clerk told me to bring our suitcases to her office, and we could use her bathroom to change when we were ready to leave, “Thank You Very Much for being out of the room early.” We remained at the beach until about 2 PM, changed, and the cleaning lady gave us a ride to the airport. She also thanked us for being out early, and leaving a clean room. The flight back was just as perfect as the one down, but more scenery to see.
North along the beach, flying low to enjoy the detail of all below us, we saw small scale commercial fishermen with outboard powered skiffs, one end of a net anchored at the beach, powering out into the ocean, feeding the net over the stern, turning, and coming back in. When they reached the beach, they pulled the net in, catching the fish that were too big to go through the mesh of the net. Wheel barrow loads were hauled to a waiting truck, and then the process repeated.
There were 3 such operations as we went up the beach. The bottom is not smooth in the ocean; it is a series of ripples, with deep water between ridges of sand. The fish are in the deeper parts, and a constant survival of the fittest and fastest goes on. The net of the men seemed to be the largest predator, until we saw a shark cruising slowly in one of the deeper valleys, not as far out as the skiffs took the net.
I turned out to sea, and then back, flying the shadow of the plane across the shark, to have a measure I knew to compare, and estimate the size of the shark. Wing span is 36 feet, and the shark was about ¼ of that. WOW! We had a discussion of the excitement if the fishermen surrounded that with their net!
The rest of the trip did not include quite the excitement of the shark, but we flew over the Navy yards at Norfolk and all sizes of ships at anchor, then turned NW and refueled at Hummel. From there direct to the VOR at DCA, and up the Anacostia to CGS completed the adventure.
Reminiscing on the good times helps with the relatively dull ones now.
20 hours from departure to arrival back at CGS, but what a contrast to 10 consecutive days of dawn til dark work in a hot buildings without windows, lit with drop cords. Today I do not remember which substation that was, but those 20 hours are clearly remembered by all four of us half a century later.
The beach at Kitty Hawk is one of our all time favorites.
This time of year, a confluence of dog tired, plenty of money, and perfect weather occurred. The exact date was 7/17/1970, so more than half a century.
The new substation was way behind schedule, due to late delivery of the new equipment, and it did not go on line until after the summer peak but the weather was still near maximum air-conditioning loads. Work in an un air-conditioned, windowless building in the heat of summer is tough, and 12 hour days to push completion makes it even worse.
After 10 consecutive days of 12 hours, Friday afternoon completed the in service of the last feeder. The weekend would be free!
I called the scheduler, found the Cessna 172 was available from 8 that evening until 4 the next day, and took all that time. Next, a call home and asked Shirley if she would like to go to the beach for a day? Yes! Pack and be ready when I get home, we are flying to Kitty Hawk tonight. I already had my sandwich from the local carry out; I had not eaten supper at home for 10 days, so no meal delay. I arrived home about 7, created and filed a flight plan, loaded the car, drove to College Park airport, and waited at the gas pumps for the plane to return. While they filled the tanks, I preflighted the plane and loaded the suitcase, overnight case, and my flight case.
Weather was CAVU, Ceiling And Visibility Unlimited, near no wind, and the nearly full moon had risen as the sun set. As soon as I left the pattern to the south, I activated my flight plan with DCA approach, National Airport, and started receiving radar service, followed by a transfer to south departure control. The route was basically direct Norfolk, and then direct First Flight. Just as we passed between DCA and ADW, Andrews Air Base, an airline DC3 departed to the south on Victor 3, less than a mile away, and we shared the frequency for the next half hour. The boys reported the bright rotating beacon. The DC 3 is a slow plane, and it did not pass us immediately and only gradually pulled ahead as our paths diverged. The boys lost sight of it about when it passed over Richmond.
Shirley was not too happy when she learned there were no runway lights at First Flight, but I assured her that if we did not have a solid identification of the runway on our first pass at altitude, we would go to Elizabeth City for the night, and fly back to the beach in the morning. From the VOR at Norfolk, we took the radial that intersected the bridge out to the seashore, then turned south and flew ADF toward the nautical beacon at Nags Head. I had told Shirley that we would fly the exact minutes from the bridge to over the runway, and if not in sight, that was it. However, as we logged the arrival time at the bridge, I pointed out the brilliant light on the Memorial, and fresh, very black asphalt runway on the light tan sand of the airport. She was just as sure as I that we had the airport in sight, and I started the descent from 3,500 feet, arriving at pattern altitude, and landed.
The office was closed, but there was a pay phone booth, so I tied down, and went to the booth with my flash light and a bunch of dimes. Mosquitoes were in abundant supply, so quickly closing the door was essential. The first Motel I called was the perfect lucky choice….No vacancy, but the clerk was a pilot! When asked if he knew of another Motel that might have a vacancy, he volunteered to call and find one for me. I gave him the pay phone number and my top price limit, and within 5 minutes, he called back and said the clerk there was on the way. And by the way, I thought there were no runway lights? I explained the bright moon and new asphalt on tan sand, and he fully understood. He flew a B 24 bombing Germany in WW 2, and knew how much you can see on a bright moonlit night. We talked flying until the car arrived, I thanked him profusely, and we were off to the beach
We had an efficiency apartment for much less than the normal rate, but had to be out before noon, as It was rented for the next 7 nights She gave it to us cheap, as it was her last vacancy, and the pilot had been persuasive.
At the crack of dawn, Shirley and I rose, decided what we wanted to eat for breakfast and lunch. She walked to the nearby 7/11, and bought groceries, while I dressed the boys in swim suits and went out on the beach. When breakfast was ready she called us in. After we ate, she made sandwiches, and back to the beach. The boys were 4 and 6, the waves were about a foot high, and water so clear that you could see fish of all sizes swimming in the crests. Perfect conditions and the beach there is very shallow slope, so we could wade way out without getting more than waist deep.
When I went back to check out at 9, the day clerk told me to bring our suitcases to her office, and we could use her bathroom to change when we were ready to leave, “Thank You Very Much for being out of the room early.” We remained at the beach until about 2 PM, changed, and the cleaning lady gave us a ride to the airport. She also thanked us for being out early, and leaving a clean room. The flight back was just as perfect as the one down, but more scenery to see.
North along the beach, flying low to enjoy the detail of all below us, we saw small scale commercial fishermen with outboard powered skiffs, one end of a net anchored at the beach, powering out into the ocean, feeding the net over the stern, turning, and coming back in. When they reached the beach, they pulled the net in, catching the fish that were too big to go through the mesh of the net. Wheel barrow loads were hauled to a waiting truck, and then the process repeated.
There were 3 such operations as we went up the beach. The bottom is not smooth in the ocean; it is a series of ripples, with deep water between ridges of sand. The fish are in the deeper parts, and a constant survival of the fittest and fastest goes on. The net of the men seemed to be the largest predator, until we saw a shark cruising slowly in one of the deeper valleys, not as far out as the skiffs took the net.
I turned out to sea, and then back, flying the shadow of the plane across the shark, to have a measure I knew to compare, and estimate the size of the shark. Wing span is 36 feet, and the shark was about ¼ of that. WOW! We had a discussion of the excitement if the fishermen surrounded that with their net!
The rest of the trip did not include quite the excitement of the shark, but we flew over the Navy yards at Norfolk and all sizes of ships at anchor, then turned NW and refueled at Hummel. From there direct to the VOR at DCA, and up the Anacostia to CGS completed the adventure.
Reminiscing on the good times helps with the relatively dull ones now.
20 hours from departure to arrival back at CGS, but what a contrast to 10 consecutive days of dawn til dark work in a hot buildings without windows, lit with drop cords. Today I do not remember which substation that was, but those 20 hours are clearly remembered by all four of us half a century later.
The beach at Kitty Hawk is one of our all time favorites.
