Aztec Driver
Line Up and Wait
Sometimes I really enjoy being an on demand charter pilot. And then there was yesterday.
Managed to scared one poor guy almost out of his mind. This was a surgeon who apparently did not like flying in "small prop planes." He asked me before we started if we were going to crash or not. I wanted to answer him, "sure, I just want to know what it is like." I didn't, since I already know what it is like.
Surgical team from PHL to "harvest" body parts from an accident victim. Took off from PHL in some wind and rain into the worse conditions at SBY and was second in line for the GPS 14 into SBY. This circle in the hold unnerved him significantly, wondering why we were turning the wrong way and going in a circle. The approach and landing were turbulent, but not too bad, and off they went to "harvest."
Gone for 3 hours, when they returned, the wind had picked up significantly, and was accompanied by wind driven rain. Wind was just off the runway at 25G41. Weeeeee. I was soaked by the time I loaded all of their equipment, as was the panel from the wind driven rain. Fogged up all the windows and I had to dry everything off multiple times. I don't think he liked that either. I warned them it would be windy and bumpy, what an understatement.
I lined up, applied power, and held for a second, and then launched, quite literally. With the headwind component, I was off the ground in under 1000 feet, which is quite incredible for an Aerostar. Then the fun began. The turbulence was nothing short of amazing. Between the wing rocking and the bouncing, we were all over the place. Not uncontrollable, just VERY uncomfortable.
I could hear the poor guy talking very loudly to his nurse about how he needs to get off, and we need to land now. I always wonder about the requirement to tell people about the emergency exit situated right next to them. She managed to keep him seated and somewhat calm, but he was still agitated when we leveled off into a somewhat more serene downpour which lasted until we reached PHL.
Got vectored for the approach to the converging ILS 17 approach, as the big iron was being vectored to converging ILS 09R. Were they really that insane? The winds were 30 knots out of the south, a direct crosswind for them. As we were beginning the approach, the nurse asks, "How long?" I responded about 5 minutes. Not 2 minutes later, she asks again, to which I just responded with a "do not interrupt me" gesture. That would be because we just started down a really bumpy IMC approach into a very busy terminal.
Got down with a nice squeak of a landing and taxiied to parking, at which time, the poor guy finally calms down and starts apologizing for his tirade. Apparently, he was needing to get down NOW when we were starting the approach. ATC had given me a sharp turn and steep descent to start the approach, and I didn't know if I could quite make it, but I gave it a good try. He, however, didn't like that at all, and thought we were going to crash.
All in all, 3 hours, 3 approaches in actual, miserable high wind and heavy rain. And hopefully, one patient with a transplanted lung with a new lease on life. I hope the surgeon will forget about his harrowing experience.
Managed to scared one poor guy almost out of his mind. This was a surgeon who apparently did not like flying in "small prop planes." He asked me before we started if we were going to crash or not. I wanted to answer him, "sure, I just want to know what it is like." I didn't, since I already know what it is like.
Surgical team from PHL to "harvest" body parts from an accident victim. Took off from PHL in some wind and rain into the worse conditions at SBY and was second in line for the GPS 14 into SBY. This circle in the hold unnerved him significantly, wondering why we were turning the wrong way and going in a circle. The approach and landing were turbulent, but not too bad, and off they went to "harvest."
Gone for 3 hours, when they returned, the wind had picked up significantly, and was accompanied by wind driven rain. Wind was just off the runway at 25G41. Weeeeee. I was soaked by the time I loaded all of their equipment, as was the panel from the wind driven rain. Fogged up all the windows and I had to dry everything off multiple times. I don't think he liked that either. I warned them it would be windy and bumpy, what an understatement.
I lined up, applied power, and held for a second, and then launched, quite literally. With the headwind component, I was off the ground in under 1000 feet, which is quite incredible for an Aerostar. Then the fun began. The turbulence was nothing short of amazing. Between the wing rocking and the bouncing, we were all over the place. Not uncontrollable, just VERY uncomfortable.
I could hear the poor guy talking very loudly to his nurse about how he needs to get off, and we need to land now. I always wonder about the requirement to tell people about the emergency exit situated right next to them. She managed to keep him seated and somewhat calm, but he was still agitated when we leveled off into a somewhat more serene downpour which lasted until we reached PHL.
Got vectored for the approach to the converging ILS 17 approach, as the big iron was being vectored to converging ILS 09R. Were they really that insane? The winds were 30 knots out of the south, a direct crosswind for them. As we were beginning the approach, the nurse asks, "How long?" I responded about 5 minutes. Not 2 minutes later, she asks again, to which I just responded with a "do not interrupt me" gesture. That would be because we just started down a really bumpy IMC approach into a very busy terminal.
Got down with a nice squeak of a landing and taxiied to parking, at which time, the poor guy finally calms down and starts apologizing for his tirade. Apparently, he was needing to get down NOW when we were starting the approach. ATC had given me a sharp turn and steep descent to start the approach, and I didn't know if I could quite make it, but I gave it a good try. He, however, didn't like that at all, and thought we were going to crash.
All in all, 3 hours, 3 approaches in actual, miserable high wind and heavy rain. And hopefully, one patient with a transplanted lung with a new lease on life. I hope the surgeon will forget about his harrowing experience.
