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Feature: On Albatross Wings Part 2 Flying the Bahamas in a Grumman HU-16E By Joe Thompson We left our Albatross inbound to Nassau from Andros Island in the Bahamas. Since leaving New Providence Island early that morning she has already made stops on Eleuthera, Great Abaco, and Grand Bahama Island. From Grand Bahama she traveled to West Palm Beach, Florida and then back to the Bahamas and Andros Island. Let's greet her now as she rolls into her spot at Nassau International Airport and see what the remainder of the day has to offer. Colin Parker heard them call inbound to the Nassau Tower on the portable transceiver he kept on his desk. He yelled out his door to Hanna and alerted her. "Hanna let Willy know their inbound and have him break out those snack trays." It was a little before 14:00 and he knew that the crews work day was now going to stretch well into late evening with additional runs that had been booked since their departure earlier that morning. He also knew from past experience they had probably only eaten junk food on their brief turnarounds, so he took the liberty to order some snack trays from Scooter's favorite local restaurant, 'The Compass Point' on Love Beach, only a few minutes from the airport. Captain Putnam was good friends with the head chef there and when Colin called and asked if they could put together some trays for Scooter and his crew, they were only too pleased to comply. Soon Willy, one of the mechanics from the back, appeared in the doorway carrying, in one hand, a large paper bag containing the food and a small ice cooler in the other hand. The Styrofoam trays contained an assortment of local delicacies: conch fritters, shrimp cooked in a coconut sauce, large pieces of pan roasted grouper; tempura coated lobster bits, stone crab cakes, and fried plantains. Smaller sealed cups contained several curries, along with mango and Creole sauces and pickled cucumbers. Soft drinks filled the cooler. Colin knew Rueben loved this type food also, but he wasn't sure about Cassie's tastes, so he made sure that a couple big, juicy burgers and french-fries were included too. In a matter of minutes the big Albatross taxied up to the front of the Mercator hanger, wheeled around to face east and shutdown her engines. The crew disembarked and walked into the office. Colin greeted them with a foreboding pronouncement. "Hope you guys didn't have any dinner plans tonight?" "What the hell does that mean?" Scooter said half jokingly. "Well we've had several add-on's (additional demands for flights added to the days flight schedule) since you left this morning. It still looks the same down to Exuma (Great Exuma Island) but instead of returning, we have stops on San Salvador, Mayaguana and Provo before you come home." ('Provo' is the local name for Providenciales Island, an island of the Turks & Caicos Islands, which are a British Overseas Territory, located southeast of the Bahamas and north of Hispaniola). "Provo, all the way down there? Are you kidding?" barked Rueben. "Afraid not. The airport director down there called me a little while ago and said that their standby VOR transmitter crapped out this morning. They can't fix it and they have to get it to a repair facility in Chicago tomorrow. You guys are going to fly it back up here, then it's going out on the first UPS flight tomorrow morning. Call us inbound when you start your descent back to Nassau tonight. Oh, Yeh, we weren't sure if you had eaten anything substantial today, so your friends over at 'The Compass' prepared some snack boxes for you. There over there in the bag," Colin pointed to the food by the door. "That cooler is for you guys too." "Thanks gang", Scooter said. "I think we have everything we need. Cassie, grab that paperwork off Hanna's desk please. Come on Rueben let's roll." Rueben was standing at Hanna's desk calling his wife to alert her that he would be late tonight. Cassie and Scooter were single and this really didn't interfere with anything except perhaps for Putnam's previous plans to relax with a couple glasses of good merlot, some music cassettes, and a good book. Cassie, on the other hand, was actually thrilled at the schedule change. It meant more flying for her in the big Albatross and the more the better. Now her afternoon schedule looked like this: N16MC LEG DEPT ETD DEST ETA LOAD WT CT* RMKS 7 NAS 1430 ATC 1510 C 3,000 2 8 ATC 1530 GGT 1600 C 1,200 2 9 GGT 1625 ZSA 1700 C 2,800 2 10 ZSA 1730 MYG 1825 C 3,500 2 11 MYG 1845 PLS 1915 4P+C 2,000 2 IFR 12 PLS 1945 NAS 2200 C 5,000 2 IFR The IFR (Instrument Flight Rule) notes for the last two lines indicated that the crew would have to file IFR flight plans for those two legs. Most flying in the Bahamas is done utilizing Visual Flight Rules (VFR) but VFR is prohibited in the Bahamas at night, therefore the line notations. They taxied away from their Nassau hanger at 14:30 and blocked in at Arthur's Town (ATC/MYCA) on Cat Island forty-six minutes later. The flight had taken them southeast from New Providence Island, over Ship Channel Cay at the northern end of the Exuma Chain, out across the north portion of Exuma Sound and over the southern tip of Eleuthera to Cat Island. After a brief turnaround they were off again, this time now headed in a south-southwesterly direction, back across Exuma Sound to Great Exuma Island. The flight was twenty-seven minutes long and as they shutdown on the Exuma ramp (GGT/MYEF) Scooter noted that they had 514 gallons of fuel remaining. At 16:25 they left Exuma and headed to the east enroute San Salvador Island, 80 nm away. This segment would take about thirty minutes. They crossed Exuma Sound for the third time in less than two hours. Halfway to their destination a small, lonely looking island popped into view ahead of the aircraft. A larger island could be seen in the distance at their 2 o'clock position. "That's Conception Island dead ahead and Rum Cay is over there," barked Scooter in Cassie's headset. "Anyone live down there?" she asked because of the sizes of the islands. "Some folks on Rum but Conception is uninhabited. It's a Bahamian National Park & Wildlife Sanctuary. Green Turtles breed there. Nice place to visit with a boat." Not many minutes later they were on final to land at Cockburn Town (ZSJ/MYSM), San Salvador Island. Then they were parked and the aircraft was strangely silent. Rueben had already gotten the cargo off and was in the shack that served as a terminal, making sure he got the correct cargo for the next stop. Scooter and Cassie sat in the hushed cockpit, the center pedestal canted upward at a forty-five degree angle. Scooter had flipped up his right armrest and was now dangling his legs off the right side of his seat, so he faced Cassie. "This is where it all began back in 1492. This is where old Chris' Columbus came ashore and in no time at all decimated the entire native population of the Bahamas. Funny how people lose sight of those minor details when they put guys like that on a historical pedestal." Scooter rested his left arm on the glareshield in front of him. "Initially the Arawaks or Taino's, depending on what so-called expert you read, populated the Caribbean Basin from Venezuela all the way through the Bahamas. They were a very gentle and peace loving group which made them easy pickin's for the Spaniards when they arrived. The Caribs, on the other hand were a savage group of cannibals who basically ate their way up the Windward Islands and were making their move on Puerto Rico when Columbus stumbled onto the new world at San Salvador." "I take it history is a pastime of yours?" Cass asked matter-of-factly. "Yeh. I always enjoy learning the history of where I happened to live and the history of the Bahamas and the Caribbean is quite a read!" Scooter replied. "The Indians living in the Bahamas, Arawaka or what-have you were known by the name Lucayans" "So that's where the town Lucaya on Grand Bahama Island gets it name," she said, more as a statement than a question, "When Columbus arrived, the Indians living on the Caribbean Islands had been here for roughly 5,000 years. Most had come from the delta area around the Orinoco River in South America." Scooter chuckled to himself, as if he had just thought of something funny or at least ironic. "Did you ever see that movie with Peter O'Toole called 'Murphy's War.' He flies a Grumman Duck around the Orinoco delta looking for a German U-Boat during World War Two. Guess I thought about it because we're talking about the river and here we sit in a Grumman amphib" Not waiting for Cassie to respond he continued his trek through history. "When Columbus got here (San Salvador) there were an estimated 300,000 Indians in the Bahamas. In 1550, less than sixty years later, the 'civilized Europeans' had reduced that number down to 500." Scooter almost spit out the words 'civilized Europeans.' "Hell, they're still arguing over where Columbus landed. Most of the heavy thinkers vote for here (San Salvador) but there are some who still contend it was Cat Island or Grand Turk, which isn't even part of the Bahamas. This island wasn't called San Salvador, which means 'Holy Savior', until the late 1920's. Before that it was Watling's Island, named after a pirate. Kinda funny don't you think?" Before Cassie could respond Rueben stuck his head through the cockpit door and informed them they were ready to go. Scooter swung his legs around and planted his feet on the rudder pedals as he snapped the armrest down and slipped on his headset. Ten minutes later the island of San Salvador or Watling's or whatever you called it was becoming smaller and smaller behind 'One Six Mike Charlie' as she headed southeastward to Mayaguana (MYG/MYMM). This leg was 130 nm long. It looked like they would arrive on Mayaguana around 18:30 local. The sun's westward slide towards the horizon seemed to accelerate. Deep shadows invaded the cockpit now. The once deep blue water below them now looked rusty brown and more foreboding. Just before flying over Samana Cay, Rueben asked if anyone was hungry. They all said yes, so Rueben opened each snack box like it was a Christmas present and told his crewmates what the choices were. He then served them on the paper plates that had been included in the food sack. A couple of small cups of dipping sauce were placed on the center pedestal, within easy reach of everyone. They had to be repositioned occasionally due to the engine vibrations. "So Captain, what's the story behind 'The Compass?'" Cassie asked. Scooter told her how he had become close friends with several of the staff there and that they occasionally sailed together on the weekends. He also told her he ate there at least three times a week so that explained their enthusiasm for preparing the food for Scooter and his crew when they were asked. "Have you eaten there yet" he asked, wiping some mango sauce off his chin. "Not yet, but I will now that I know about the place." Rueben dove into the conversation at this point with, "One of the best damn restaurants in all of Nassau or anyplace else in the Bahamas for that matter. Make sure you go the first time with the boss here. You'll get first class treatment and then they'll remember you later. That's what my wife and I did and we really love the place." By the time they were ready to letdown near Mayaguana, a good portion of the roasted grouper, half the conch fritters and crab cakes and all of the spiny lobster bits had been consumed. But contrary to Colin's trepidations about Cassie's taste' for local fare, the hamburgers remained in the bottom of the sack, untouched. The Mayaguana stop was brief. Cargo off, new boxes loaded, paperwork reviewed and signed, and a IFR flight plan filed. Since VFR (Visual Flight Rule) controlled flight is prohibited in the Bahamas at night, the crew would fly the last two legs under IFR (Instrument Flight Rules). At 18:45 they departed for the 55 nm transit to Provo -- Providenciales - in the Caicos Islands (PLS/MBPV). A half hour later they were sitting in the chocks at Provo and night had fallen. It was moonless and the weather forecast indicated that it was looking a little ragged back up the island chain for their return to Nassau. After loading the aircraft and filing their flight plan, the two pilots boarded the aircraft. Rueben remained on the tarmac manning his normal fire guard station for engine start. It was inky black out and Rueben held a flashlight in his hand to acknowledge signals from the cockpit. As Cassie put one foot up on the seat platform and prepared to hoist herself into the seat Scooter ask, "You wanta' fly the return leg back?" Cassie was pleasantly shocked because since she was the new kid on the block and the customary swapping of Pilot Flying (PF) and Pilot Not Flying (PNF) duties on each leg was not firmly established yet. Scooter had flown most of the legs this day to give her the opportunity to see the area first before she had to fly approaches to the myriad of island airfields they serviced. She had fully expected Scooter to fly this last leg back home too. "You betcha!" she exclaimed, trying to control the glee in her voice, the smile on her face was masked by the nights shadows. "OK, then it's your aircraft." Scooter stuck his head out his open vent window and informed Rueben that Cassie was the PF for this segment so he would know to follow her hand signals during engine start. Mercator's Flight Department had sent Cassie a large box containing manuals and operational material after she had been hired. The UPS package she got in Anchorage had contained, among other things, a Grumman Albatross Operators Manual, along with a copy of the Coast Guard's HU-16E Standardization Manual (CG-373) known by many simply as the 'STAN MAN.' The Grumman aircraft manual told you all you wanted to know about the aircraft however it did not spell out the specific procedures a crew would follow during the various flight regimens. Airlines flying identical aircraft fly them, procedurally, in a slightly different manner. Different checklists are used with slight variances in where the emphasis is placed during the various flight phases. Since Scooter was one of the first pilots Mercator had hired to fly their new acquisition, he convinced them that the Coast Guard Manual for the HU-16 was the one to adopt and use. They did and it was now the major guide for flying the 'Goat'. The manual even listed certain words that were to be used in the cockpit to alleviate ambiguity or confusion with other similar sounding words. This is especially critical in a high noise environment like the flightdeck of an HU-16. 'Wheels Up' would be used instead of 'Gear Up', 'Manifold' was used instead of 'MAP', and 'R-P-M' instead of 'Prop' during power changes. The engines were referred to as 'Left' or 'Right' not 'One' or 'Two' and 'Maximum Power' was used instead of 'Takeoff Power.' It all made sense, but it took time to digest. The box also contained several packets of charts, both aeronautical and nautical, along with a notebook, embossed with the company name and logo, and bearing large lettering that proclaimed 'Caribbean Division.' It also had a label on the cover with her name, pilot number, and her hub assignment. (The STAN MAN had an identical label and it made Cassie feel part of the team before she even arrived for her first day of work.) The notebook was divided into sections for each island that Mercator serviced out of Nassau. The sections contained airport diagrams, approach plates and other field data. Cassie found herself pouring over this treasure trove of information night and day until she got to Nassau. Her studying continued even after she had reported for work. After leaving Anchorage, she had to make a stop in Panama City, Florida for a 5 day 'Open Water Survival Course.' This proved to be more than a little stressful for the girl from Mankato, Minnesota who did not consider herself a very good swimmer. But the course was a Mercator requirement for all crews where more than 75% of their hub trips were over water. This meant that crews from the Bahamas, Puerto Rico, Hawaii and several South Pacific bases attended this course. She struggled with the swimming, as did several of the other attendees, but they all made it through. She was proud of the fact that it had taught her to be much more confident in an open water situation. After reporting for work in Nassau, she attended two more weeks of classes covering hub and aircraft familiarization. She supplemented what she got formally in the classroom with her own late night forays in the aircraft. Without a simulator to practice in, and no procedural training device available (an instrument panel mockup of a particular aircraft where all the switches and dials can be manipulated but the gauges don't operate), she improvised. Most nights the 'Goat' would be parked on the Nassau ramp in front of the hanger. She would alert the night shift mechanics in the hanger what she was doing, then go out to the aircraft and sit in the cockpit and use it as a procedural trainer. With her manuals spread out on the glareshield and seat beside her she would call out the various checklist items, simultaneously placing her hand on the corresponding item in the cockpit. She did this over and over until she had the procedures and cockpit flow patterns down pat. She was especially mindful of the specially marked 'memory items' on the checklists. The majority of an aircraft checklist is not meant to be committed to memory but there are certain items, especially those involving an emergency that must be memorized. When an emergency situation occurs such as an engine fire, the crew doesn't have the luxury of time to pull out their checklists and casually stroll through it. Immediate and correct action could mean the difference between life and death. Cassie felt confident she was ready for anything in a 'Goat.' Her diligence had paid off in big dividends because Cassie knew her way around the 'Goat's' cockpit almost as well as the old timers. Her work ethic was a trait she learned from her father and it didn't take long for the station manager to learn about it. Colin, naturally, mentioned it to Scooter and Rueben. Soon everyone at the Nassau base started looking at the petite new hire in a different way. This girl was a hard worker and true professional. She was going to be a great addition to the Mercator family. Cassie repositioned her seat to give her slightly more leverage on the rudder pedals, now that she was going to be the pilot flying. "PARKING BRAKE............................... SET" "LANDING GEAR HANDLE................... DOWN" "DROP TANK JETTISON...................... OFF" "BATTERY........................................... ON" Cassie made sure the Voltmeter Selector switch was in the BUS position and that the battery voltage was reading 24 volts. "INVERTERS....................................... #1 ON, #2 & #3 OFF" "INVERTER SELECTOR....................... NORMAL" After running through almost forty checklist items, she and Scooter were closing out the BEFORE STARTING ENGINE section using the 'Challenge and Reply' system familiar to countless numbers of aviators worldwide. Sometimes a 'Challenge' would require multiply actions before a 'Reply' was given. Coast Guard 'Goat's' sported a gadget on the left rear corner of the pedestal that looked like a rolodex on steroids. This was the checklist. Mercator had forsaken this device and each crewmember had a laminated card that allowed them more freedom of movement while conducting the checks. "MIXTURES......................................... IDLE CUTOFF" "SUPERCHARGER.............................. LOW AND LOCKED" "GUST LOCKS..................................... OFF" "THROTTLES" -- Cassie cracked the throttles to a position that corresponded to about 1,000 RPM then responded "SET" "MANIFOLD PRESSURE.................. NOTED" It was time to crank up the big Wright radials. This was a choreographed dance between pilot, copilot, and the fire guard standing outside on the dark tarmac. "RIGHT ENGINE" -- Cassie indicated to Rueben they were ready to start the right engine and he gave her the all clear signal. She depressed the right starter switch as the prop swung through twelve blades of arc. Then she switched on the ignition and fuel boost pump. The engine sputtered to life. She immediately reset the right throttle to give them 1,000 RPM, ensuring she didn't exceed 1,400 RPM during the start. Then Scooter called out the next item: "HYDRAULIC PRESSURE" Cassie lowered the flaps to their full down position and confirmed that the main hydraulic system pressure rose to the appropriate level and then returned to zero. She then reached up and turned the Rudder Boost on and pushed her left and right rudder pedals in and out to walk the rudder back and forth, while simultaneously checking the hydraulic pressure fluctuation range. Then she raised the flaps and continued to walk the rudder several more times. The system checked out and she reached over her head once again and secured the Rudder Boost. Scooter called - "VACUUM PRESSURE" and Cassie responded -- "CHECKED." Then the left engine was started and the Fuel Boost Pumps were secured to confirm a drop in fuel pressure. The #2 inverter was placed online and the radios checked. About this time Rueben climbed into his seat and reported that the Gear Locks, Pitot Cover, Squat Bar and Ladder had all been removed and stowed. Upon hearing this Cassie asked, "Ready for Taxi?" and Rueben and Scooter responded in unison, "Ready." About 40 minutes later the Albatross was level at FL160. Cassie toggled the prop switches to give her 2,300 RPM, then tapped the throttles back a little to get 34" of manifold pressure. The air speed indicator needle settled down on 150 kts indicated. Then cowl flaps and oil coolers were reset as was the Carb Heat and finally, Cassie set the mixture controls, one at a time. It was time to relax a little and monitor the gauges and their navigation and keep and eye on any possible traffic conflicts. Radar coverage in this area was non-existent. And it was notorious as a preferred drug smugglers route flying loads up from South America. Since those aircraft flew without any lights, it was extremely prudent for crews to stay alert. Everyone, including Rueben, kept a sharp watch. Since starting with Mercator, Scooter had spotted 'exhaust stack flames' late at night, on two occasions. He reported those to the Bahamas Defense Force who passed the info on to the Coast Guard and learned later that one was a guy with an electrical problem but the other was a smuggler. The trip back from Providenciales was slow and monotonous. The night was extremely dark and the only thing that was keep the crew company was the loud, incessant din of the engines. An occasional radio call from sector controllers also filled the time. "So Cass' who inspired you to go into aviation. Earhart, Cochran, Wagstaff?" rattling off a short list of famous female aviators he was familiar with. "Actually, it was my Uncle Charlie in Anchorage." Between sector calls Cassie filled in her new Captain and Rueben on her path to the cockpit of this particular Mercator aircraft. "How about you Captain?" she asked, as she scanned the darkness outside the windscreen. She was still using the more formal address not yet completely comfortable calling a man twice her age 'Scooter.' "Jacques Cousteau. I was an oceanography nut growing up. Got my degree in it at the Coast Guard Academy, then spent a year aboard a medium endurance cutter on the Grand Banks counting foreign trawlers. We use to carry a deployed helo for FishPat's (Fisheries Patrols). The pilots that went with us seemed to have it a whole lot better than I did standing my eight hours of bridge watch everyday and then a pretty full plate of paperwork too. I concluded it would be more exciting flying over the banks as an 'airdale' than sailing on them as a sailor, so after my obligatory year at sea, I applied for flight training and was accepted." Cassie asked why he had to wait a year to go to flight school. "Guys out of Annapolis (U.S. Naval Academy) or the Air Force Academy can go directly to flight school but not in the Coast Guard. Their policy is you have to spend a year aboard a cutter prior to applying for flight training. It makes you appreciate the flying more that way", he said with a chuckle in the microphone. Cassie, feeling that the old Navy Chief had been excluded from their conversation, directed a question to Rueben, who was standing in the aisle between the two pilots resting his arms on their seat backs. "What about you Rueben?" "Roy Rogers, but since the cowboy profession was kinda dying out and the draft was hot on my heels during Viet Nam, I joined the Navy and here I am today, a proud product of your United States Navy!" They all had a chuckle at that response. As they flew just to the east of Great Exuma Island, Rueben leaned over Cassie's seat momentarily and glanced at the GPS screen. They were abeam the southern end of Andros Island, though it was invisible in the inky darkness that surrounded them. Rueben straightened up and said, "Scooter, tell Cass' about the flare case you guys had off Andros back in the seventies." "What happened Captain?" "In the mid 1970's I was flying 'Goats' out of Coast Guard Air Station Miami out of Opa Locka Airport. Well, one night BASRA (Bahamian Air Sea Rescue Association - pronounced baz-rah - a volunteer organization) calls Miami RCC (Rescue Coordination Center) and asked for aircraft assistance on several reported red flares seen off the southeastern tip of Andros, down in the Tongue of the Ocean. AUTEC was unable to fly that night for some reason. Anyhow, I was on the OPS desk that evening at the Airsta so I alerted the duty 'Goat' crew and after a briefing they launched and headed out." "What time was this?" Cassie asked. "About one in the morning." "Our resident hot stick pilot, Commander Crawford, was the AC (Aircraft Commander -- the military equivalent to Pilot in Command) that evening and his CP (co-pilot) was a very junior aviator fresh out of Pensacola. This guy Crawford thought he was God's gift to aviation. Well they poured the coals to her and got down to the search area in a little over an hour. About two hours into the search Crawford blurts out he thinks he saw something. Now you gotta' keep in mind this was a moonless night, black as a well digger's &%#$ out there. There are no reference lights on the southern half of Andros to speak of. So Crawford bends the plane around in a steep turn and tells everyone he is departing the 1,000 foot altitude they had established as their hard deck (the altitude they would not go below) and was going lower to get a closer look. He instructs the entire crew, including his CP, to keep a sharp eye out from their respective stations as he makes a low pass over the area." "Don't tell me!" Cassie blurted out. "Yep, you got the drift I think." Scooter said. "That numb nuts flew the aircraft right into the water. Good thing they were only looping along at around 110-120 kts at the time. They hit the water in a slight nose high attitude, which was a good thing for them. Needless to say, the jolt brought them all to their senses and they aborted the mission and returned to Miami." At this point Rueben chimed in, "God I love to hear about idiots like this, especially when I don't have to fly with them." "They got back around daybreak and we launched another plane to look them over prior to landing. Their gear was OK and nothing was hanging down to impede a landing so the decision was made to land. After they taxied in, we all walked out to the aircraft and the sight was unbelievable. The whole %#$&. - excuse my English -- underside of the hull from the nose gear doors back to the step (the area where the pronounced Vee hull cuts off in line with the main gear) looked just like an old washboard. Man you talk about mangled!" "What happened to the crew?" Cassie asked. "Well old Commander Crawford had his AC designation yanked and the entire air station went on a safety stand down for 2 days, so we could have our butts professionally chewed on by our CO (Commanding Officer). The CP learned a valuable lesson too. He told me later he knew he should have been watching the gauges while everyone else was gawking out the windows but since Crawford was such an 'Attila the Hun' type, he just followed orders instead of speaking up." "Any questions?" Rueben said softly, over Cassie's left shoulder. "No," Cassie said. "but it does go to show that luck can only keep a fool out of harms way for so long before it catches up with them. It also reinforces some wisdom my uncle use to drum into me. He said that no matter how senior and experienced your Captain was, if he screwed something up, then the most junior copilot in the world had better speak up and point out the error because if he didn't, he would arrive at the accident scene at the same time as the Captain. Uncle Charlie also told me that seniority and experience were not the same things." Scooter nodded, "Your Uncle Charlie sounds like a pretty savvy guy. If you ever catch me doing something stupid, let me know, loud and clear. That's if you can beat old Rueben here to the punch first!" They all chuckled. "I will Captain." About 60 nm south of Nassau the lumbering Albatross started down. Cassie set up for the descent and at 15,000 feet she shifted the supercharger from high to low blower and locked it in place. Scooter called Mercator Base and reported their position giving them an ETA and asked Colin to tell the guys in the maintenance shop that they had no gripes on the aircraft to report. Nassau was reporting moderate winds out of the southeast with 'scattered' clouds at fifteen hundred and eighteen hundred feet and thunderstorms in the area. The scattered cloud report turned out to be slightly in error. Nassau was using runway 14, as usual, and as Cassie and the crew neared the south shore of New Providence Island they started to encounter moderate buffeting from the local storm. Large licks of brilliant lightening appeared out of nowhere that illuminated every cranny of the darkened cockpit, followed by loud claps of thunder and then the cockpit would go dark again. All of them felt the need to haul down a little tighter on their shoulder harnesses. The ground only occasionally peeked through a very small hole in the seemingly solid cloud layer below, the same cloud layer that had been reported as scattered. "Sure looks like a hellva' lot thicker than 'scattered' to me, " Scooter remarked, peering out his side window. Everyone went through their final cockpit checks and as they passed through three thousand feet they started to break out of the solid clouds. They were now just west of the downtown area of Nassau, over Cable Beach, with Lake Killarney and the airport off their left wing. Discovery Island passed down the right side and they leveled off at two thousand feet; Cassie called for 15 degrees of flaps. She then rolled the aircraft into a left back and called for more flaps. On her command Scooter extended the landing gear. Just then a sudden wind gust lifted them in their seats and just as quickly dropped them back down. Cassie, with her arm extended to the throttle levers on the overhead, rolled the aircraft left once again and when she leveled the wings she was perfectly aligned with runway centerline. Rueben tapped Scooter twice gently on the shoulder in acknowledgment of this. Cassie was too busy to notice. A gentle screech of rubber and they were on the runway. They rolled all the way down to the far end the runway to the turnoff for Million Air FBO. The Mercator hanger stood silently in the far corner of the ramp, its signage lit against the stormy night sky, lights where still on in the offices. Cassie swung the aircraft around in front of the hanger and applied the brakes for the last time that day. Rueben had opened the main door on the taxi in and was already out of the aircraft, installing the chocks and squat bar. Cassie set 1,000 RPM and allowed the engines to run for 30 seconds to scavenge residual oil from the engine cylinders and send it back to the oil tank before shutdown. She finally pulled the mixture levers to their idle cutoff positions and the big radials coughed and wound down until they were silent. Ignition switches were secured and the gyros caged. Radios, vent switches, inverters, lights, battery and voltmeter switches were all secured. The aircraft fell eerily silent and dark. Scooter swung the center pedestal up and locked it in place. He slid out of his seat and grabbed his kit bag from behind his seat and made his way through the cockpit door, ducking his head to clear the overhead coaming. Cassie followed and as she exited the cockpit, she retrieved Rueben's flight bag and the snack bag from the jump seat behind Scooter's. In a few moments Cassie was standing next to her Captain at the foot of the aircraft ladder. Rueben came around from the tail of the aircraft, saw his gear and the paper bag at Cassie' feet and said "Thanks kid!" Scooter stood silent for a few seconds and then said, "It was a good day gang." This was high praise from a guy who held compliments to a minimum. "Cassie you did a great job today and that approach and landing was super. I'm really glad to have you on our team." "Thanks Scooter", Cassie said, using her Captain's nickname for the first time. It didn't go unnoticed by either of the guys. Then Rueben chimed in with, "You done good kid." "I really appreciate the feedback guys. I'll do my best to keep us out of the weeds," she said with a warm smile on her face. As they all walked inside to finish their paperwork Rueben, holding his gear bag in one hand and a rumpled paper sack in the other asked, "Anyone want these burgers we have left, if not I'm taking them home for Jake?" "Who is Jake?" Cassie asked. "My cat. Only eats 'human' food. You couldn't get a can of cat food down his throat if you hog tied him." It was late. In the distance a clap of thunder rolled through the heavens followed a few seconds later by another lick of blue-white lightening. It had been a very long day, exactly as the magazine ad had promised so many months before in the snack bar on Kodiak Island. Credits And Reference Links AIRCRAFT Grumman HU-16 Albatross by Greg Pepper and Michael Verlin. Mercator livery design and repaint by the author. PANEL Original by Ken Mitchell. Panel modifications by the author. SCENERY Bahamas -- by fs-freeflow @ http://fs-freeflow.com/ Florida -- by fs-freeflow @ http://fs-freeflow.com/ Nassau Airport -- by imagineSimulation (payware) @ http://www.imaginesim.com/mynn01.htm. Mercator Nassau Hanger modifications by the author. Marsh Harbor Airport-- by FlightSim Brasil @ http://paginas.terra.com.br/informatica/flightsimbrasil/index.htm West Palm Beach Airport -- by William Morgan (FRF Studio) City of West Palm Beach -- by Toni Hiltunen Water Textures -- by Ed Truthan Joe Thompson joe308@zianet.com ceo@flymercator.com

Feature: On Albatross Wings Part 1 Flying the Bahamas in a Grumman HU-16E By Joe Thompson Part One -- Following a Dream from Mankato to Marsh Harbour The Grumman Aircraft Corporations has a long and proud history of supplying the aviation world with some of the finest amphibious aircraft that have ever flown. Grumman aircraft sporting waterfowl names like Duck, Goose, Widgeon, and Mallard have flown all over the world. The largest, an aircraft that has probably seen more varied military service than any other aircraft except perhaps the DC-3/C-47 and C-130, was the Grumman SA-16/HU-16 Albatross. This story follows an ex-Coast Guard pilot and his crew as they fly their HU-16E around the Bahamas from their base in Nassau. It's almost time to shove off so hurry on out to the aircraft. The advertisement in the aviation trade magazine read: "First Officer Wanted: Low pay & long hours, must be willing to relocate to overseas base. Requires: Commercial w/Instrument, Multiengine Land & Sea, minimum 1,200 hrs -- 100 instrument (no simulator), current medical & passport, experience in Grumman Goose, Mallard, or Albatross preferred, 4 yr college degree required. Fax resume to Mercator Airlines Attn: Human Resource Dept. -- FltCrews, Position: NAS 723." The young woman took another bite of her crab sandwich and then a sip from her mug of Root Beer. She had left Anchorage that morning flying a Grumman Goose and after a couple stops on the Kenai Peninsula she was now in the snack bar at Kodiak Airport enjoying a little respite before returning to her home base in Anchorage. "Leaves a lot to your imagination," she said to herself...and as she rose to leave, almost in a full voice, "maybe I'll just fire in a resume when I get home just for grins." A month later, after submitting her resume, Cassie Larson was pleasantly surprised by a phone call from the Mercator Human Resource (HR) Department in Phoenix, informing her she had been selected for additional screening. She was savvy enough to know that it was a no-no to try to pry additional information out of them over the phone at this early juncture of the process, so she stifled her urge to ask: what, where, how much, and when type questions. The company provided her with a round trip ticket to Phoenix and very nice hotel accommodations near Sky Harbor Airport and Mercator's corporate offices. After a drug screen and a ream of background paperwork, she took several straightforward, computer based timed quizzes to test her aviation expertise with a few mind bender questions thrown in to keep the applicants honest: What is VDP and how do you compute it for distance and timing? What is the formula to compute the hydroplaning speed for an aircraft? What three factors affect hydroplaning? What are the effects of landing on a narrow runway? What affects landing distance the most, Gross Weight or Speed? After the tests she was interviewed by three HR personnel. One was a manager: 'What do you know about Mercator?' and 'Why do you want to fly for us?' A psychologist asked questions like, 'Do you ever hear voices?' and 'Has anyone in your family ever had a mental illness?' The third interviewer was a rather stately looking gentleman in his sixties Cassie guessed. He was a pilot who asked questions such as, 'What aircraft do you have the most time in?' and 'Describe a time when you were stressed in the cockpit?' then the old standard interview question, 'What would you do if you were a new FO and you smelled alcohol on your Captain's breath?' She must have done pretty well because she went back to the hotel that night and around 11:00 PM got a call offering her a job. She was elated, immediately accepted, then called her parents to tell them the good news. The next day saw more paperwork and a complete briefing on the new hire position. When she heard what the aircraft was and where the position would take her she almost fell off her chair. From the wilds of Alaska to the balmy, idyllic waters of the Caribbean; tell me this isn't a dream she thought to herself. She flew back to Anchorage to close out one phase of her life and to start a new one. That was 5 months ago. Now Cassie stood at the Mercator Flight Operations counter at Nassau International Airport on New Providence Island in The Bahamas. She was indeed a Mercator new-hire First Officer flying their Grumman HU-16E Albatross out of Nassau. As she reviewed the paperwork spread out before her she thought to herself -- this sure isn't Alaska! She inspected the cargo manifest, the aircraft Weight & Balance Sheet, a dispatch form, and several NOTAMs and weather forecasts stapled to the flight release. She wasn't nervous or intimidated by her newly acquired position flying the Albatross around the Bahamas, Greater Antilles and Florida. At over 20,000 lbs empty the Albatross was by far the heaviest aircraft she had ever flown. Not only did it weigh a lot more than a 5,500 lbs Goose, it was twice as large as one too. Cassie was in her mid-twenties and stood only 5 foot 5 inches. If she weighed 110 lbs she was lucky. Her eyes were a deep blue and her hair was short and blonde, which gave away her Norwegian ancestry. She was from Mankato, Minnesota, 80 miles southwest of Minneapolis. As an only child she had been granted a lot of leeway in her upbringing. That latitude had help foster Cassie's drive and determination. From the age of ten she had only wanted to be one thing - a professional pilot. Her father sold farm machinery in Mankato but she had an uncle, her father's brother, who owned a seaplane FBO (Fixed Based Operation) in Anchorage, Alaska. She spent most of her summers during junior and senior high schools with her Uncle Charlie, working as a 'line rat' at his FBO. The smell of AVGAS and the sounds of the aircraft flying in and out of the Lake Hood Seaplane Base (LHD/PALH) next to Anchorage International Airport were intoxicating to Cassie. While her girlfriends were on a summer shopping trip to the Mall of the Americas in Minneapolis, having their nails done and exploring all the shopping opportunities, Cassie was up in Alaska, wearing an oversized and tattered jumpsuit with grime under her nails, grease on her cheeks and smelling of AVGAS instead of Chanel. She wouldn't trade places with her friends for all the free pedicures at the mall. She begged rides on anything that flew and eventually got her private license with a seaplane endorsement before she graduated from high school. Then she was off to Purdue University. Four years later she graduated cum laude with a degree in Aviation & Airway Science. Along the way she acquired her commercial license with her multiengine and instrument tickets too. Then it was back to Uncle Charlie's, to gain experience in the real world of professional piloting. She flew hunters, fisherman, and anyone else who needed to get somewhere in Alaska. Normally she flew float equipped aircraft like a Cessna 180 or Cessna 206 and, on occasion, a DeHavilland Beaver. Like most float operations in Alaska, as the hard freeze of winter set in, the floats where replaced with tundra tires. She especially liked flying a Grumman Goose that a friend of her Uncle's kept at the FBO. It was loud and smelly but the sight of those big radials, hanging down from the wings just in your peripheral vision as you sat in the cockpit, was a real rush. Cassie stood at a long Plexiglas covered table in Mercator's Nassau Operations Center. A window mounted air conditioner noisily pumped out cold air and a large ceiling fan turned slowly above the room, stirring the chilled air. Under the Plexiglas were navigation charts of the entire Caribbean basin from the shores of Venezuela, all the way up to Bermuda. On these charts were heavily inked track lines and distances marked from airport to airport, along with other essential data, like the location of all the known crash sites. It was too easy to spot one from the air and then make a fool of yourself reporting wreckage that was decades old. In one corner sat the office manager, Hanna Wellington. Standing in the doorway to his private office was the station manger, Colin Parker. Hanna was a Bahamian and Colin was an expatriate British citizen who had lived in the islands most of his life. Both spoke with a precise and proper British accent. Hanna and Colin kept the paperwork flowing and handled the charter bookings while everyone else either flew or fixed the airplanes. She had started her day with a trip to the coffee pot, then a look at the daily trip sheets and any maintenance items for her aircraft. Two metal clipboards hung above the counter. Both were stenciled in large black block letters. One was marked N3003MC and the other N16MC. 'Three Zero Zero Three Mike Charlie' was a Beechcraft King Air 300. It was primarily used for the weekly 'Pouch Run' -- a U.S. Department of State contract flight from Nassau to various Caribbean capitals, shuttling diplomatic material between embassies and the U.S. Interest Section in Havana. It also handled VIP inter-island transport and occasionally a MEDEVAC to Miami. 'One Six Mike Charlie' was a Grumman HU-16E Albatross and was used for on-demand passenger and cargo charters. On rare occasions, when the aircraft was available, it also flew Search and Rescue (SAR) missions in support of BASRA (Bahamian Air Sea Rescue Association -- pronounced baz-rah). Today's trip sheet for the Albatross looked pretty typical, with the following entries: LEG DEPT ETD DEST ETA LOAD WT CT RMKS 1 NAS 0700 GHB 0745 6P+C 1,945 2 HAZMAT: SCUBA TANKS 2 GHB 0815 MHH 0900 NL -- 2 3 MHH 0930 FPO 1005 5P+C 1.395 2 4 FPO 1025 PBI 1110 NL -- 2 AUTEC TERM 5 PBI 1150 ASD 1315 6P+C 3,400 2 6 ASD 1340 NAS 1400 NL -- 2 7 NAS 1430 ATC 1510 C 3,000 2 8 ATC 1530 NAS 1610 C 1,200 2 To the uninitiated it didn't make a lot of sense but to Cassie it was her day planner. This one told her that she and her fellow crew members in Crew Team # 2 would depart Nassau at 07:00 local with 6 passengers, apparently scuba divers from the looks of the remarks notation, and some cargo with a total weight of 1,945 lbs and fly eastward to Governor's Harbour (GHB) on Eleuthera Island. They would then fly to Marsh Harbour (MHH) on Great Abaco without a load (no load -- NL). At Marsh Harbour they would pick up 5 passengers and some cargo and then proceed to Freeport, (FPO), Grand Bahama Island. Leg four was a little out of the ordinary. They were going to West Palm Beach Airport in Florida to pick up 6 Navy and civilian contract personnel, their test equipment and then fly them to the U.S. Navy's Undersea Test & Evaluation Center on Andros Island. Known simply by its initials as AUTEC (pronounced: ah-tec), the sophisticated test facility is the undersea equivalent to Area 51 in the Nevada desert. The facility, located on the east side of Andros Island, is used primarily for the testing of advanced undersea acoustic detection and weapons systems. Its three test ranges are located in an area east and southeast of Andros Island known as the Tongue of the Ocean (TOTO). The facility has its own assigned aircraft, a couple BE-1900's and several helo's used on the ranges. The fixed-wings run scheduled flights between Andros and West Palm Beach, where additional AUTEC administrative offices are located. However, occasionally they contract out a flight to a civilian airline like Mercator because of non-availability of aircraft. This was the case today. From Andros Town Airport (ASD) they would return to Nassau, load up with cargo and fly over to Arthur's Town (ATC) on Cat Island, drop that load, pick up 1,200 lbs of new freight and head back to Nassau for the last flight of the day. If all went well they were looking at being done before 17:00 Local. Out on the Mercator ramp, which is adjacent to the upscale Million Air FBO, just off the approach end of Nassau International's runway 32, sat the big, imposing HU-16E. At over 25 feet tall and almost 63 feet in length, it was a very large twin engine aircraft. The wingspan was even more impressive though at 96 feet 8 inches -- wider than a classic model Boeing 737 -- but it didn't start out that way. The Albatross was built by Grumman Aircraft Corporation at their Bethpage, Long Island, New York plant between 1947 and the early 60's. No aircraft other than, possibly the C-130 Hercules and C-47/DC-3, has seen as much widespread military service as the Albatross. They are unique in that they were initially designed as a private aircraft platform, but were bought in large numbers by the military. During its illustrious career the aircraft has been flown by over two dozen military services around the world in a variety of mission roles from search and rescue, personnel and cargo transport, training, and even anti-submarine warfare. Numerous civilian operators have also flown the Albatross, such as the U.S. Dept. of Interior, the Malaysian government, Smithsonian Institution, Pan American World Airways, Antilles Airboat, Chalks International, and now Mercator. Grumman has long been associated with amphibious aircraft sporting the waterfowl names. The JF-1 Duck was produced in 1933 followed by the Goose in 1937 which, in turn, was preceded by the slightly smaller Widgeon, which first flew in 1940. In 1946, immediately following World War Two, Grumman introduced the Mallard. Two years before, early 1944, Grumman had commenced the design of the G-64, which was intended to be a replacement for the Goose. It eventually evolved into the Albatross, an aircraft twice the size of the Goose. On 1 October 1947 the first prototype, known then as the XJR2F-1 Pelican, flew from the Bethpage Facility. The base model -- the SA-16A - had a wingspan of 80 feet. In 1955 Grumman commenced a modification program to increase the aircrafts overall performance. One of the major renovations was the deletion of the leading edge slats, increasing the size of the horizontal and vertical tail surfaces, adding a 30 inch extension to each wing tip and also inserting a 70 inch plug outboard of each engine nacelle, thereby increasing overall wingspan by 200 inches. These became know as the "B" models. It weighed slightly over 22,000 lbs empty and was powered by two supercharged 1,425 hp Wright 1820-76 air cooled nine cylinder engines. With a stiff tailwind it could reach speeds in the low 200's and had a service ceiling of over 23,000 feet, though it was found more often far below those lofty heights. If you topped off the internal & external fuel tanks with over 1,500 gallons of petrol, she would take you over 3,000 nm's. In fact the U.S. Coast Guard set several world records with the aircraft; nonstop from Kodiak, Alaska to Pensacola, Florida, a distance of 3,104 nm and also several altitude records, one with a 1,000 kg. payload to an altitude of 29,475 feet. The aircraft has gone through numerous operational designations in its career. The major change was in 1956 when a unified U.S. military designation system was instituted. U.S. Air Force Albatrosses became HU-16 A's & B's, the Navy's were HU-16 C's & D's and Coast Guards models were HU-16 E's. Unlike the official moniker used by Grumman and most other aviators associated with the SA-16/HU-16 -- 'Albatross' - the Coast Guard referred to their aircraft as 'Goat's.' No one knows for sure how this nickname became so entrenched in CG aviation. Some have speculated that it was due to the original designation which was UF-2G -- giving rise to 'Goat' instead of the 'G' designator. Other's however, believed it was because the aircraft climbed like a mountain goat, steady and slow. Still others thought it was because the aircraft smelled pretty awful. It reeked with the smell of sweat, AVGAS, engine oil and hydraulic fluid and it wasn't very pleasant, kinda' like a goat! The Coast Guard phased out the last of their 'Goats' in the late 1970's and early 80's. Mercator's Albatross was an ex Coast Guard airframe that had been mothballed in the desert at the U.S. Air Force's Aerospace Maintenance And Regeneration Center (AMARC) at Davis-Monthan AFB in Tucson, Arizona, commonly referred to as 'The Boneyard.' After a pristine restoration, she was put into service at Mercator's Nassau base. Not only was she a very reliable aircraft but the public relations she generated for the company was incalculable. She invariably drew a crowd at any ramp she was parked on. Mercator had even placed her on static display at several air shows when her schedule permitted. And any morning when she pulled off her spot in Nassau, the crews of the Gulfstreams, Lear's, and Bombardiers' parked at the neighboring FBO would gather on the ramp to get a glimpse of her as she taxied out. As Cassie stood reviewing the aircrafts maintenance sheets, the front door opened accompanied by a rush of cold air seeking to escape the confines of the office. In walked Captain Oscar "Scooter" Putnam. He greeted everyone in unison. "Good morning gang." "Good morning Scooter", said Colin. The word 'Scooter' sounded comical spoken with a refined, British accent such as Colin's. "Good morning Captain Putnam." Hanna preferred a more formal address. He preferred 'Scooter' to Oscar, or Captain, or anything else people threw at him. He acquired the name years ago while attending Naval Flight Training in Pensacola. One morning one of his instructors saw him pull into the squadron parking lot on his standard mode of transport at the time, a Vespa motor scooter. He had been called 'Scooter' ever since. Putnam was a 1971 graduated of the Coast Guard Academy. In late 1973, after graduating from Naval Flight Training, he was sent to the Coast Guard Air Station in Miami. There he flew the HU-16E for almost five years. He truly loved the old birds but eventually the Coast Guard had to phase the aircraft out of service. After a political fight over the interim replacement, the Coast Guard finally selected the Air Force C-131A Samaritan's. These aircraft, a derivative of the civilian Convair 240, had been in storage in an Arizona boneyard for years. Scooter wasn't fond of this aircraft, so when he was offered a job flying Mallard's for Chalks International in Miami he took it. After resigning his service commission he never looked back. A couple years later he grabbed one of the first pilot slots with Mercator when they opened their Bahamian base in Nassau. Scooter was moving up. He tossed his gear bag by Hanna's desk, then acknowledged his new First Officer as she stood at the flight planning table. "Morn'in Cass -- you ready to go flying?" "Yes sir." "Good, looks like another wonderful day in paradise." He looked over the paperwork too, pulled the crew copies off the clipboard, asked Colin if there was anything additional he needed to know and then walked out with Cassie in trail. "See you guys later today" he called over his shoulder as he exited the doorway, accompanied by Cassie and another rush of cold air. "Have a safe one Captain," shouted Hanna as the glass door slammed shut. Rueben Witt had retired from the Navy after a career that spanned over 25 years. He had been a Senior Chief Aviation Machinist and flew as a crewmember in a variety of aircraft. His last military aircrew position was aboard a Grumman HU-16C while stationed at the Naval Base in Guantanamo (GITMO) Bay, Cuba. When the last Albatross left GITMO, in August of 1976, Rueben felt it was time to retire. He immediately landed a nice job working on Grumman Mallards for Chalks International Airlines at Dodge Island in Biscayne Bay, Miami. Scooter Putnam flew them and Rueben maintained them and the two became good friends at Chalks. When Mercator opened up their hub several years later, Rueben, along with Scooter Putnam, was one of the first to get hired. He and his wife jumped at the opportunity to live and work in the Bahamas. He was ecstatic that once again he would crewing in the Albatross. (Due to security concerns after the 9/11 attacks, Chalks shifted their operations from Dodge Island to the Fort Lauderdale-Hollywood Airport. In Dec. 2005, a Chalks Mallard enroute to Bimini made an unscheduled stop at Watson Island, in the Port of Miami. On takeoff the aircraft crashed at the entrance to the port killing all 20 people aboard. This was the first fatal crash of a Chalks aircraft since the company started operations in 1917.) Rueben was the third member of the crew of 'One Six Mike Charlie.' In that capacity he served as flight engineer, mechanic, loadmaster and cabin attendant, all rolled into one. Rueben heard the office door slam shut and glanced up to see his captain and the new FO walking towards the aircraft. He was high up on the fuselage, conducting his customary and extensive first-flight of the day preflight checks. The passengers for the short hop to Governor's Harbour, all scuba divers from Atlanta, stood anxiously just outside the Mercator Ops office. There was a long line of their personal gear piled on the tarmac. "Good Morning gang," Scooter called over to the passengers as he exited the office. "We'll be ready to go in a few minutes." Scooter had learned early in his civilian career that you didn't discuss the safety of the aircraft in front of the paying passengers, so he held in check his urge now to ask Rueben how the 'Goat' looked this morning. He would do that out of customer earshot. "Morn'in Senior Chief, thanks for the fresh air." The Captain motioned towards the top of the cockpit. Scooter would have customarily addressed a Coast Guard or Navy Senior Chief in this manner when he was in the service. Old habits were hard to break. The reference to the fresh air was because Rueben had opened both escape hatches over the cockpit prior to beginning his extensive preflight checks. This provided some much needed fresh air to the flightdeck before their first flight. The aircraft was a sight to behold. For a twin engined propeller aircraft it was extremely large and imposing. A high wing spar was adopted to keep engines, wings, and props out of the brunt of the water spray during water operations. It also opened up the interior for cargo space. Mercator, as the Coast Guard did in the late 1970's, limited water operations to emergency use only because of the age of the wings and airframe. Massive main tires folded out and down from their respective wheel wells, located into the sides of the fuselage. These tires were exposed to the elements when retracted because there were no main gear doors. The twin nose gear wheels were exposed too because the wheel well, though sealed off from the hull, was not watertight itself. In the cockpit, if you glanced down at the deck between the two pilot seats, you saw a small, circular window. This was a viewing port into the nose wheel well. In flight it was dark but sitting on the ground you saw the outside light up through this opening. Just forward of this viewing port, under the cockpits main instrument panel is the door that allows entry into the nose (bow) compartment of the aircraft. Once inside you can open up the hatch in the overhead and emerge from the aircraft, just in front of the cockpit windscreen. This was used by crewmembers when there was a need to pick up a mooring buoy line to secure the aircraft, while afloat. If you stood alongside the aircraft and studied the fuselage, those familiar with a boat hull would recognize the Vee hull of the HU-16's fuselage bottom with its distinct 'step.' This 'step' is a discontinuity along the bottom of the fuselage, right in line with the main gear tires. This stepped hull, first invented by Glenn Curtiss, is necessary for water takeoffs. The sharp discontinuity causes cavitation of the water. The resulting turbulence breaks the suction of the water that would otherwise try to prevent the aircraft from lifting off. At the aft limit of the hull was a metal tail stand commonly referred to as a 'squat bar.' This prevented the aircraft from sitting on its tail during a loading operation that improperly placed the aircrafts CG (center of gravity) behind the main gear. This bar is removed during preflight and stowed inside the cabin. Entry into the aircraft is gained by climbing an aluminum ladder up to the main fuselage entry door. And just like entering a boat, you step down into the cabin. The height of the door off the ground is dictated by the need to be above the waterline when the aircraft is waterborne. In reality, it's a Dutch-Door design, spilt horizontally into an upper and lower half. This design was used because when the aircraft is operated on the water in higher sea states, there has to be a means to open the door without allowing water into the hull. This is done by keeping the lower half of the door secured and opening only the upper half. Many 'landlubbers' refer to the door as a hatch when, in fact, it's a door. On a ship, an opening through a bulkhead (a vertical wall) is a door and any opening through a deck (the horizontal divisions in a ship -- like a floor in a building) is a hatch. Therefore you gain entry into an Albatross through a door, but the openings above the pilot and copilots seats as well as the opening in the nose (bow) of the aircraft are hatches. The supercharged Wright engines that power the Albatross are similar to the engines you find on the T-28 Trojan and the B-17 bomber. On the bottom of each large engine nacelle can be seen a pair of large, flapper type doors. Just behind these is an additional, single flapper door. The front doors are the cowl flaps and are used to regulate the exit of the airflow that keeps the engines cool. The wider the opening, the more air is drawn across the engine and the cooler the cylinders operate. However the internal workings of the engine itself are cooled by oil and this aft opening is the exit for the air that flows across the oil cooler. The amount of cooling air that passes through is controlled by these cooler flaps. Unlike most constant speed propellers, the props on an Albatross are electrically controlled and hydraulically actuated, independent of engine oil. The prop governor RPM is set by toggle switches, not propeller control levers customarily found in aircraft. When waterborne, the rudder is ineffective. Since no water rudder is installed, the only means of directional control is differential engine power. When at idle, the best way to control aircraft direction is to move one or the other props in or out of reverse. There is no beta range so you're either going forward or aft, demanding a pilot's constant attention. Several minutes later the passengers were all buckled in and Rueben was manning the fire bottle in preparation for engine start. Scooter cranked over the Wrights and as each caught and roared to life they belched a plume of bluish gray smoke. Cockpit checks were completed; Rueben completed his tarmac chores then boarded the 'Goat.' Nassau ground cleared them to the active runway via a couple taxiways. Throttles were pushed up to get the big aircraft moving off her overnight resting spot and several minutes later they turned onto the active runway. The landing lights were switched on. With a final glance around the cockpit, the Captain declared he was setting "Maximum Power" as he had done hundreds upon hundreds of times before. It was always an adrenalin rush. Less than five minutes later they were over the east end of New Providence Island pointed eastward towards the island of Eleuthera. Large, billowy clouds pockmarked the area. "Too bad there're clouds in the area. Right down below you there is Rose Island. That's the spot where the Vulcan Bomber in the James Bond movie "Thunderball" was sunk." In reality, the movie company made a steel framed replica and covered it with fiberglass for the underwater scenes. All that is left of the site now is the frame itself, although it remains a very popular dive site with thousands of divers that come to the Bahamas each year, like the group in the back right now. As the engines droned on and they passed Bar Bay Settlement, the western most spit of land on Eleuthera, Scooter passed more local information to his new FO. "Eleuthera was originally called Ciguateo until it was renamed by the first white inhabitants who were religious separatists from Bermuda. That was back in the mid 1600's and the group called themselves the Eleutherian Adventurers. 'Eleuthera' is the Greek word for freedom." Just at that moment they heard a blind call on the frequency from an aircraft announcing his departure from Governors Harbour (GHB/MYEM), their destination. Cassie and Scooter configured the aircraft for the approach and soon they were crossing over the beach by James Point for the landing. After a quick one-eighty turn on the runway they taxied back to the ramp and disembarked their first load for the day. It wasn't even eight o'clock yet. A half hour later they left the Governor's Harbour ramp enroute the active. Soon they were abeam the northeast tip of Eleuthera, passing Harbour Island, and the enchantingly named enclave of Spanish Wells. They were headed to Marsh Harbour (MHH/MYAM) on Great Abaco Island, 85 nm to the north. The flight would be over the blue waters of the Northeast Providence Channel. This shipping lane angles to the northeast, from Nassau (thus its name) and forms the watery boundary between the islands of Eleuthera and Abaco, where it spills out into the Atlantic Ocean. Turquoise colored areas that marked shallow water soon slipped behind as they climbed to altitude. Forty-five minutes later they shutdown the engines at Marsh Harbour. Scooter climbed out of his seat and went inside the small terminal to call Colin back in Nassau to check on any schedule changes. A couple minutes later he retook his cockpit seat and announced that no changes had been made so far. Next stop Freeport. The aircraft was loaded with freight and five passengers and at 09:30 they were underway again. After departing Marsh Harbour to the west you fly over a large mangrove swamp area (they don't call the place Marsh Harbour for nothing). This area, known as 'The Marls,' is strewn with countless small and mostly un-named cays (a cay -- pronounced 'key' in the Bahamas -- is the name of a low island or reef, normally made of sand or coral). All are uninhabited, if you don't count the hundreds of thousands of mosquitoes that reside there. The area has a reputation as a world class bone fishing spot and attracts sports anglers from around the world. Between Great Abaco Island, which is oriented north-south and Grand Bahama Island, which is oriented east-west, lies the magnificent Bahama Bank and once out over the bank N18MC leveled off at 6,500 feet for the transit to Freeport. Off the left wing could be seen Mores Island, small and isolated. A short while later a small speck appeared just off the aircrafts nose. This was Red Shark Cay with the massive Grand Bahama Island just beyond, seemingly suspended in mid-air just above the tropical waters. At Freeport (FPO/MYGF) they all got out of the aircraft to stretch their legs and get some fresh air. Though thousands of air crews have cherished their association with the Albatross, it is considered by many as the most uncomfortable aircraft they have ever flown; slow, extremely noisy, and with a high vibration level. Any excuse to slip out of your seat and stretch your legs is welcomed. However the respite was short lived and all too soon the crew was back aboard, except for Rueben, who took his customary position on the tarmac for startup. After takeoff, they banked to the left to fly towards West End where they would begin their transit over the Gulf Stream to West Palm Beach. Less than an hour later, after a courtesy chat with the U.S. Custom Patrol Officer on duty at the AUTEC Terminal on the south side of the field at West Palm Beach (PBI/KPBI), Cassie walked the 6 passengers out to the aircraft. while Rueben supervised the loading of their equipment. Scooter reemerged from the building a few minutes later, boarded the aircraft and started the engines. Rueben pulled the chocks, removed the squat bar and after boarding pulled the ladder in. After a brief taxi to the active, still runway 27 Right, they were cleared for takeoff. Scooter lined up on the runway. With a final glance at the panel to ensure that nothing was blinking at him he declared he was setting "Maximum Power." He pushed both spring loaded propeller control switches forward briefly until the prop gauges read 2,700 RPM and then advanced the throttles until the Manifold Pressure (MAP) gauge indicated 51.5" for both engines. The engines roared to a deafening crescendo, even through their headsets. Cassie's left hand was poised just behind Scooters right hand, as it hung from the overhead throttle levers. At 82 kts indicated airspeed (KIAS), Scooter eased the forward pressure he had been exerting on the control yoke and the nosewheel broke ground. He maintained this attitude until 90 KIAS when Cassie called "Rotate" and the big aircraft left the runway. With a good positive rate of climb Scooter called, "Wheels Up." Momentarily you could hear the loud thud as the gear retracted into the gear wells. At 105 KIAS the Captain announced "Set 1st Power" and the young First Officer now assumed control of the aircraft's power settings, inching the throttles back, then toggling the propeller switches to give them the correct setting. She then declared, "R-P-M Twenty-five hundred, manifold forty-six decimal five." The roar outside changed noticeably to a less snarling tone. They continued their climb to the west as the tower controller cleared them for a downwind departure. Scooter simultaneously rolled the yoke smoothly to the left, applying some backpressure to maintain the correct climb attitude and fed in some left rudder. He rolled out on a southerly heading for a few seconds, then resumed the left bank to put them on an easterly heading to fly downwind of the departure runway. When the air speed indicator rose to 120 KIAS, Scooter commanded, "Set 2nd Power." Cassie adjusted the throttle for 38" MAP and toggled the prop switches once again to give them 2,300 RPM. She then reached over and turned on the autopilot, switched off the landing lights then retracted them into their underwing housings. After readjusting the oil cooler and cowl flap openings, she made sure the toggle switches were in the "OFF" position. They crossed the long narrow strip of water that is the Intercoastal Waterway (ICW) just inside the coastline. As the VOR needle started to creep towards the center of the CDI (Course Deviation Indicator) gauge, Scooter rolled the aircraft into a shallow, right bank to intercept their outbound airway -- Bravo Romeo Five Four Victor (BR54V). Cassie was still very busy. Now she reached up to the overhead panel and secured the Rudder Boost. (Hydraulically controlled rudder boost is used to relieve excessive pedal forces if an engine is lost during takeoff or landing. It is normally secured in flight.) She then secured the fuel pumps while Rueben shut down the auxiliary power unit (APU). Most of the 'heavy lifting' was now complete. They only needed to heed the various radio calls and climb to their cruise altitude. The thin sliver of darkish green water near the Florida coast now gave way to a deep blue, wide ribbon as far as the eye could see. This was the infamous Gulf Stream, that comes out of the Gulf of Mexico and is squeezed through the narrow Florida Straits between the Florida Keys and Cuba. Then it turns north and is further compressed between South Florida and the Bahamas. As it continues its northward journey, it eventually widens off Cape Hatteras and flows northward, then eastward, across the Atlantic to Europe. 'One Six Mike Charlie' eventually leveled off at 11,000 feet. Scooter reset the power to give them 150 KIAS. The oil cooler and cowl flaps were closed and the carb heat reset, then both mixture controls were adjusted. The Gulf Stream is bigger than the combined flow of the Mississippi, the Nile, the Congo, the Amazon, the Volga, the Yangtze and many other major rivers of the world. The best technical estimate is that one hundred thousand million tons of warm salt water flow between Florida and the Bahamas every hour. At 235 gallons per ton, you have 235 x 1,010 gallons per hour flowing between two and five miles per hour northward. This flow has been estimated to be about twenty times greater than all the fresh water in the world flowing into the oceans of the world from rain, rivers, and melting ice. Depending on the wind speed and direction the Gulf Stream's current can approach speeds in excess of 6-8 kts. With a southerly wind the surface swells are normally less but the velocity increases. When the wind is out of the north wave height is greater, but the current speed is lessened. Contrary to popular opinion, the axis of the current, which contains the fastest moving water, is not always in the middle of the stream. The axis can meander from its western wall (boundary) just off the coast of Florida to the eastern wall just to the west of Bimini), affected by a myriad of environmental factors. All in all, it's not a place one wants to be in a disabled boat or a ditched aircraft or life raft. Cassie, looking off her right shoulder, asked, "Why is there a south bound line of ships close to the coast, but out here [near the center of the Florida Straits] they all appear headed north?" "Ships take advantage of the [Gulf] streams current. There's less current closer to the beach so southbound traffic hug the shoreline. Northbound they want the maximum current push so that's why you see those ships farther out," Scooter replied. "November one six Mike Charlie, Miami Center, switch and answer on One-Three-Three decimal Four." Cassie responded. "Thirty-three decimal Four, One Six Mike Charlie, Roger, out." Cassie pushed the swap button on the COMMS radio, making the new sector frequency, which she had programmed into the radio prior to takeoff, the active frequency. Then she called Miami Center. Rueben slipped out of his seat after they reached cruising altitude and went aft to check on the passenegers. In a few moments he reappeared. "Hey, boss, we have a couple squids (a slang term for anyone in the Navy) back aft that want to take a look up here, any problem?" "Heck no", Scooter replied, "bring'em on up." This was pre-9/11. Cockpit security was not the issue it is today. A few minutes later a couple sailors appear on the flightdeck. Rueben maneuvered around and told one guy to slip into the right jump seat and the other to take the left jump seat directly behind Scooter. They took turns asking various questions about aircraft performance, endurance, how fast, how high, how long, how hard to fly . Scooter and Rueben professionally answered them all. Cassie sat quietly in her seat, showing deference to the seniority of her fellow crewmates in the Q&A (Question & Answer) session that took place. An Albatross flightdeck has several differences that make it unique. First, to gain entrance to the cockpit you have to step over a raised coaming, (the edge plate surrounding a door or a hatch on a ship) and into the cockpit. The door itself is oval in shape, the same shape as a watertight door on a ship. Once in the cockpit, you notice that the crew seats are mounted on platforms above the metal deck. Standing between the pilot and co-pilot seats, you find that the metal platforms on which the seats are secured is about as high as your kneecap. This gives you, more or less, eye to eye contact with seated crewmembers as you stand between the two seats. The center pedestal is also different. It is hinged on the forward edge, where it connects to the lower main instrument panel. It can be raised and locked in an upright position, similar to a drawbridge, to facilitate entry/egress to the left or right seats, or the small access door below it that leads to the aircrafts bow compartment. Another non-standard arrangement on the flightdeck, and quite noticeable, is the throttle quadrant. Unlike most aircraft that have their power control levers pointed upward from the center console, the Albatross has its power levers pointed downward from the overhead. To make it even more intriguing is the fact that it is minus the standard set of propeller control levers. Albatross propeller RPM is controlled by a pair of spring loaded toggle switches. When you look up at the overhead panel you see, from left to right: a large knob to adjust throttle friction, a smaller stalked lever to shift the supercharger, two large throttle levers, then the mixture control levers followed by two prop control toggle switches and finally the flap handle. Also very prominent are two large, red handles that control fuel tank selection. To a Grumman pilot flying a Goose, Mallard, Widgeon or even the naval S-2 Tracker (used so predominantly in an ASW role years ago) the overhead power control arrangement would be all too familiar. Several minutes later the cockpit was empty again except for the Mercator crew and some occasional radio chatter. Miami Center called again with another frequency change and Cassie complied once again. Soon the dark blue color of the Gulf Stream was met by a large turquoise area which marked the shallow water north of the Bimini Islands. A tiny speck of dark coloration appeared just off the right nose and Scooter pointed out Great Isaac Island, an uninhabited cay about halfway between Bimini and Pinder Point, the southwestern tip of Grand Bahama Island. This is where the Northwest Providence Channel spills out into the Atlantic to be captured and whisked northward by the Gulf Stream. "Great Isaac," declared Scooter as he pointed over the instrument panel to guide Cassie's line of sight to the dark spot off the nose. "This is a good position check because it lies almost directly under this airway. Looks like that wind has picked up a little more out of the south since she's [the island] going to pass down our starboard side." Scooter adjusted the heading bug and the aircraft's autopilot dutifully followed his directions. At Carey Intersection, 54 nm northwest of Nassau VOR, with Chub Cay 20 nm's ahead, they made a shallow right bank to depart the airway. For here they took up a more southerly track that would fly them down into the Tongue of the Ocean (TOTO), the deep-ocean basin that borders the eastern side of Andros Island. (This strangely shaped underwater basin is approximately 100 nautical miles long by 15 miles wide and varies in depth down to 6,000 feet.) Before long, the rock outcroppings of Joulter Cays came into view off the right nose followed by Andros Island itself, the largest of the 700 some odd Bahamian Islands. They passed Morgan's Bluff and then came up on Nicholls Town. Scooter started their descent and simultaneously radioed his station manager telling him they were letting down for Andros Town Airport (ADS/MYAF) and "expect to be on deck in about 10 minutes." Colin now knew when to expect them back in Nassau for the afternoon runs. Cassie closed out with Miami Center and was reviewing the data card she had for the airport. Rueben started the APU and passed through the cabin ensuring everything and everyone was secured. A few minutes later they banked to the west, dirtied up the aircraft, reset the power and landed at the small airport. Several U.S. Navy vehicles could be seen parked at the small shack that served as an airport terminal. At 13:45, after disembarking passengers and cargo 'One Six Mike Charlie' was airborne again for the brief flight back to Nassau. In Part 2 our Albatross crew will get a change of schedule. Make sure you join us back out on the Nassau ramp when they get ready to fly the second half of their adventure. Joe Thompson joe308@zianet.com ceo@flymercator.com