flying
I once had a scary experience on a flight coming back from New York city into Portland, Maine late at night on a small jet. The plane was a few hours late leaving LGA, and I had been scheduled on a earlier flight that had been canceled.
It was October, but the water was still a bit warm in the bay, and the air was very cold that night with high wind gusts. This resulted in a lot of turbulence at the end of the flight. It was very violent, not your normal turbulence you sometimes get. Several people on board become quite airsick, and the winds were pushing the plane all around. It felt like a really bad rollercoaster. It was the only time I have ever seriously questioned if I was going to die in a airplane crash.
As we came in for a landing at the Portland Jetport, we hung over the runway for a long time, running out of landing space. The pilot somehow managed to put us down safely at what seemed to be the last possible moment, after correcting for several gusts of wind that tipped the plane sideways as we were gliding down. There was applause in the cabin.
As we de-planed, the door to the cockpit was open (in those pre-9/11 days), and I saw the pilot, an older gentleman with gray hair, sitting at the controls with his face in his hands for several long minutes. I said right then that I would much rather be flying with an old gray pilot with tons of experience than a freshly minted one, no matter what they say about reflexes.
Today's events reinforce my belief. I'll take the veteran at the top of game over the young kid any day. Kudos to Mr. Sullenberger.
It was October, but the water was still a bit warm in the bay, and the air was very cold that night with high wind gusts. This resulted in a lot of turbulence at the end of the flight. It was very violent, not your normal turbulence you sometimes get. Several people on board become quite airsick, and the winds were pushing the plane all around. It felt like a really bad rollercoaster. It was the only time I have ever seriously questioned if I was going to die in a airplane crash.
As we came in for a landing at the Portland Jetport, we hung over the runway for a long time, running out of landing space. The pilot somehow managed to put us down safely at what seemed to be the last possible moment, after correcting for several gusts of wind that tipped the plane sideways as we were gliding down. There was applause in the cabin.
As we de-planed, the door to the cockpit was open (in those pre-9/11 days), and I saw the pilot, an older gentleman with gray hair, sitting at the controls with his face in his hands for several long minutes. I said right then that I would much rather be flying with an old gray pilot with tons of experience than a freshly minted one, no matter what they say about reflexes.
Today's events reinforce my belief. I'll take the veteran at the top of game over the young kid any day. Kudos to Mr. Sullenberger.