Heathrow...We have a problem

Heathrow...We have a problem

As I prepare for my trip to New Orleans, I am reminded of another fateful flight.

Christina and I travelled to England.  We had a wonderful stay with her friend.  She took us to off the beaten path pubs and avoided the tourist trap taverns.  We drank, we ate and we purchased.   Our adventure was over and we arrived at Heathrow for our departure.  We went through customs…taking a little longer than the travelers behind us would like.  See, we had stretched the limit of our carryon cargo, after amassing a bounty of gifts.  We went through security (you will have to use your imagination for the details from a previous blog) and boarded the plane.  Did I say our adventure was over?

It was years since I had been on such a large plane.  The seats were lush and roomy, and this was in commoner class.  Movies, music and a GPS showing position of the plane.  The movie selection was less than blockbuster, and having packed my book in the check in luggage...along with a lot of other import items, I settled in for a long flight’s nap.  About 2 hours into the flight I awoke… since the beer I had borrowed at the airport bar came a knockin'.  I returned to my seat with the intention of slumber.  Then it happened…oh so subtly.  The plane began to bank.  So timid was this turn no one was the wiser.  My wife remained engrossed in her music.  I on the other hand, while I am no Copernicus, noticed the setting sun was now on the other side of the plane.  Last I checked there were no u-turn signs hanging over the Atlantic.  I alerted my love of this repositioning.  She quickly quaffed, You must be mistaken, go to sleep…and she headed back to her headphones.

At first, my fears focused on New York City.  What cataclysmic crisis occurred to alter our air travel?  Then my thoughts turned to the plane itself.  It was only 2 ½ years since 9/11 and airlines were still considered the weapon of choice.  It seemed like forever before the captain came on the intercom.  He informed us we had turned around…DUH.   I nudged Christina and gave her “That” look … you know, the “I told you so” look.   The pilot continued to tell us we developed a leak and had lost ½ of our hydraulic fluid and we were returning to Heathrow.  Now, while I did well on the SAT’s, I never remember a question of such simplicity.  If you leave from point A and travel to point B and you lose ½ your hydraulic fluid, when you leave from point B and travel back to point A…how much more hydraulic fluid will you lose?  If you said “The OTHER ½”…you are well on your way to a 1600.

Christina inquired of me if hydraulic fluid was important…as visions of the Iowa incident danced in my head.  I informed her flying was fine, landing…not so much.  We should be all right for now, worry when we were closer.  Never one for calmness, Christina clamored…What can we do?, What should we do?...and she looked to me for an answer.  At this moment, the Devil on my left shoulder gave me an idea, and under the circumstances I believe the Angel on the right even said, What the Hell!  So…I suggested we join The Mile High Club…Hey, if your gonna go, not a bad way to go out!

Now, there are few times in a man’s life when he realizes his words went awry…and this was one of them.  I believe I heard under her breathe, You better HOPE this aircraft crashes Mister.  My temptations thwarted I turned to the TV…the offering “Stuck on You” was the best of a bad selection.  If I had to continue to view this, better to have the plane plummet now.  I peered at my partner and her eyes were fixated on the GPS…eyeing every update.  1 hour 20 minutes to Heathrow…1 hour 19 minutes to Heathrow.  Since my sexual fate was sealed, I chimed in with the updates to intensify her fear…1 hour 18 minutes to IMPACT, 1 hour 17 minutes to IMPACT.  Yeah, and she still married me…

We approached the airport like the pilot had a hundred times before.  Except this time, in final approach, the plane shuttered like it was shaking off fleas.  Having a flying lesson or two, and watching a lot of Bugs Bunny,  I knew the flaps needed to be down..and they were not.  These flaps slow the plane’s airspeed for landing, and they are deployed using…you guessed it…Hydraulic fluid!  That damn SAT question came to fruition.  The plane pulled up to the port, sending me to sights of Sioux City.  Our pilot came on the intercom, confirming my correct conclusion of the SAT conundrum.  “We have had a complete failure of the central hydraulic system. Flight attendants please prepare the passengers for an emergency landing.”  At this time I recalled the airlines decided to alter the wording from “crash” landing to “emergency’ landing to calm the travelers fears.  Yeah, good luck with that.  Of course it also made me think, did they change the name of the pilot’s cabin area to “flight deck” from “cockpit” so I didn’t wind up there while trying to join the Mile High Club?  Yeah, even at this moment I was thinking about IT.

On our second approach, the plane was filled with prayers of all languages and faiths.  I, on the other had…in my best Homer voice…began singing “Oh, Those Golden Grahams”…never losing a chance for humor (see season 5, episode15).  This time I observed the flaps going down.  I comforted Christina, I told her we were going to be all right well before the wheels touched down.  I figured I was going to survive, I needed to make amends!  The plane landed safely and made it’s way to the airport’s gate. Christina and I were the last ones to exit making like Charlton Heston and Karen Black…as if we landed the plane ourselves.

Well, we made it…but no one was there to greet us…as a matter of fact…where did everyone go?  This twilight-esque moment was soon shattered by the stupidity of the situation.  After we exited the long and lonesome gate ramp, we found our flight. What was this???  We had to go through Customs??  Not prepared for a returning flight, customs was manned by a lonely sole…most likely awakened from his slumber.  Winding our way, we eventually arrived at his counter.  Do you have anything to declare sir, he asked.  Yeah, I declare you are all idiots!  We went up, we came down…we almost crashed, where the hell do you think we went?  Christina calmed me down to avoid an international incident...and we were on our way.

However, no planes where flying out that night and the airlines put us up in a hotel.  We inquired to the location of our luggage.  Since it had been already checked in, it would be spending the night in a storage bin and not joining us.  Great…our carry on’s were filled with food and fair…and no toiletries or underwear.  Well, we made the best of it…and our family and friends would have to forgo a few gifts.

The next morning we boarded a new plane, with a new pilot and new flight attendants…but our fate would be the same…we were delayed...

Seems our new plane had developed a little engine trouble…