“Okay, I have six of you on the manifest. Let me just make sure you’re all here and you are who you say you are.
“Silverstream?”
“That’s me!” A bright and bubbly student calls, brandishing only one large suitcase.
“Smolder?”
“Yeah?” Another student with two midsize suitcases grunts before clearing her throat. “Yeah, that’s me.”
“Ocellus?”
“That’s me!” A much more soft-spoken girl calls from what was behind a book.
“Gallus?”
“Here.” The student then acknowledges sort of apathetically.
“Yona?”
“Yona here!” She calls enthusiastically, adorned with nothing other than a large but nonetheless very full camper’s backpack.
“And lastly, Sandbar?” I ask, making eye contact with the last student here, holding nothing.
“That’s me.” He acknowledges brightly.
“Split Scimitar. Just call me Max. I understand you were slotted to fly on the… APUSH this year. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”
The sea of long faces more than echoes my sentiment.
“I understand you’re all from out of state, but were sent to this school for its quality education?”
“Yeah,” Gallus grumbles, “it’s kind of tough though. I wish I didn’t have to go home, but I have nowhere else to go. My landlord said I need to go home, both for financial reasons and because they insisted I be with my family. Can’t say I blame them, but…”
Yona picks up where he leaves off.
“But Gallus no feel same way at home as here.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“That’s alright.” Gallus shrugs. “We all have ways to stay in touch, and I did already promise my return. At least I can see Gabby again.”
“Alright. Let me run through all of your reported cities of residence. You’re quite an eclectic bunch, so…
“Metairie?”
“Me.” Gallus says raising his hand.
“Kent?”
“Yeah.” Smolder acknowledges.
“Brownsville.”
“Me!” Silverstream calls.
“Asheville?”
“That’s me.” Ocellus responds, the book now tucked away inside her backpack.
“Ooh, this is a nice change: Yakutat.”
“Yona proud of Alaskan roots! YAKutat best city!”
“And finally… Oxnard?”
“Yeah. I asked if I could join so I would be able to say goodbye to each of my friends as a group.” Sandbar says somewhat sheepishly.
“Sure! Glad you’re with us! Well, it seems we have a bit of a predicament. All of you live in one direction except for Yona. This is a 2 or 3-day trip, so before we begin, are there any of you who need to return home ASAP?”
Everyone else looks at each other, which slowly leads into a consensus of no, so I say,
“Alright then, the tentative plan is Seattle or Yakutat first, Brownsville, New Orleans, Asheville. Who wants to say goodbye first, Yona or Smolder?”
“Yona should leave first.” She says trying to sound brave. “[For] everyone else’s sake.”
“It’s a long flight up to Yakutat.” Sandbar says.
“And even longer if we drop off Smolder first.” Gallus adds.
“We’ll have to spend the night somewhere.” Silverstream then interjects with a tinge of concern.
“Nonsense. I’ve done many a trip without an overnight halt. As long as we can keep our ground time between 30 and 45 minutes. Taking on fuel at some airports will help with that. Nevertheless, the sooner we start, the sooner we finish, so let’s get to it.”
Once again, a closed cockpit to cruise aboard N634VA, but once I open the door, I see all of them trying to hold a conversation across the aisle. Our route of flight takes us over Reno and Portland before turning northwest to the coast of British Columbia to meet the Alaska panhandle. At this time of the year, we are getting close to midnight sun, but will not get a chance to see it.
Because Yakutat is a small airport in a quite rural borough, and because their ramp space is extremely limited (with a maximum capacity of 2 airliners), this will unfortunately need to be a quick turnaround. There’s a small window between Alaska Airlines and Alaska Air Cargo, and I intend to use it. So, with a small bit of performance envelope available, I increase airspeed to try and gain a bit more steam.
“Yakutat traffic, Youngster 6, 5 southeast of the Yakutat VOR, ILS 11 from WORTT.”
Crossing the VOR, airspeed 200, set flaps 1.
Intercept the DME Arc, speed 190, flaps 2.
Established, speed 150, lower landing gear.
1 mile from final approach fix, flaps 3.
“Yakutat traffic, Youngster 6, established on the ILS 11.”
Flaps full. Spoilers and auto-brakes armed.
1000.
500.
200.
100.
50.
40.
30.
20.
10.
Touchdown. Spoilers up, brakes on, 2 in reverse.
50 knots, disengage reverse thrust.
Clear of the runway, spoilers down, flaps up, landing, strobe, pulse lights off, transponder reset.
“Yakutat traffic, Youngster 6 clear of the runway.”
Park, shut down. Air stair deployed, unload luggage. Everyone shares a tearful goodbye, so I don’t hurry them. The APU is running, and it is burning fuel, but we’re such a light load on this mission that I have enough to make it to Seattle.
Inside the terminal, I pay all the fees and take care of the performance calculations, making note to include a message in the school’s invoice about a “repatriation discount” since the reason for my hire is from circumstances beyond anyone’s control.
After a car rolls up to the front, I say my goodbyes to Yona and give her a business card for when they do return to in-person lectures.
As the rest of us wait for Sandbar to return from the bathroom, I get towed a distance from the terminal for jet blast. Once clear, Sandbar climbs aboard, I close up, fire up, and wheels up.
“Anchorage Center, Youngster 5 off Yakutat, 3,200 climbing… FL180.”
“Youngster 5, Anchorage Center, roger. Should pick you up on radar momentarily. Question from Alaska Air, their morning cargo run had to divert to Gustavus due to snow removal. Could you give your best guess for a FICON?”
“Runway 29 was probably… 4/4/5.”
“Roger, I’ll pass that along. Was there any snow?”
“Not on the runway.”
“Roger. Thanks for the info, contact Vancouver Center now, 128.4, great day!”
“128.4, see ya soon, Youngster 5.” “Vancouver Center, Youngster 5, 8,000 for FL180.”
“Youngster 5, Vancouver Center, welcome. Ketchikan altimeter 29.93.”
“29.93, Youngster 5.”
“Victoria approach, Youngster 5, out of 12,000, Victoria to the MARNR.”
“Youngster 5, Victoria approach. The Victoria altimeter is 30.04. Passing Victoria, maintain 260 knots.”
“30.04, 260 after Victoria, Youngster 5.”
I take a quick peek at the back and find the others seated, so as we exit the flight levels, I decide to put the seatbelt sign on very early, usually waiting until 10,000 to do so on smooth days, which this is.
“Ladies and gentlemen, as we begin our descent into Seattle, please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts securely, ensure your chair backs and tray tables are in the full, upright, and locked position. Please also check around your general area for any trash or other loose items that may have fallen about over the course of the flight. All aisle armrests and cabin baggage must also be stowed for landing, thank you.”
“Youngster 5, contact Seattle approach on 125.6, nice talking to you!”
“125.6, thanks for all the help, Youngster 5.”
“You’re welcome!”
“Seattle approach, Youngster 5, 2 past Victoria on the MARNR.”
“Youngster 5, Seattle approach. Advise information Hotel.”
“We’ll get hotel, Youngster 5.”
“Seattle–Tacoma International Airport, information Hotel. 2258Z. Wind 280 at 7. Visibility 10. Few clouds at 5,000. Scattered 15,000. Broken 20,000. Temperature 21, dewpoint 7, altimeter 30.02. ILS runway 34L, ILS runway 34C and ILS runway 34R in use. Landing and departing runway 34L, runway 34C and runway 34R. Notices to airmen: numerous cranes unlighted and flagged in various quadrants. North Satellite terminal interior construction project, expect random closures across different gates. South Satellite terminal closed except for gates S5 and S6. Advisory: all VFR aircraft contact clearance delivery prior to taxi. All aircraft read back all runway hold short instructions. Advise on initial contact you have information Hotel.”
“Approach, Youngster 5 has Hotel.”
“Youngster 5, roger. Resume normal speed. I want to get you in ahead of some heavies.”
“Normal speed, Youngster 5.”
“FedEx 17, maintain 250 knots.”
“250 knots, FedEx 17.”
“Victoria transition to MARNR Seven arrival landing north. From Victoria (YYJ) at or above FL200, course 132° to ORCUS, cross at or above 17,000 at 280 knots. From ORCUS, course 132° to MARNR, cross at or above 12,000 at 270 knots. From MARNR, track 133° to PNELA, cross at or above 12,000 at 270 knots. From PNELA, track 133° to VEGGN, cross between 11,000 and 15,000 at 250 knots. From VEGGN, track 139° to UNITT, cross at or above 10,000 at 230 knots. From UNITT, track 164° to WUBET, cross at or above 8,000 at 230 knots. From WUBET, track 164° to SHIPZ, cross at 7,000 at 210 knots. From SHIPZ, track 164° to EMMSS, then track 164°. Arrival brief complete.”
“Youngster 5, would you like 34C or 34L?”
“34L.”
“Youngster 5, roger. At EMMSS, proceed direct SONDR, cleared ILS approach runway 34L, contact Seattle tower on 120.95.”
“EMMSS, direct SONDR, cleared ILS 34L, tower 20.95 at SONDR, Youngster 5.” “ILS runway 34L into Seattle–Tacoma. Primary navaid I-BEJ localizer on 110.75, approach course inbound 344°, 8,500’ of runway available. Touchdown zone elevation 379’, airport elevation 433’. SONDR transition: cross SONDR at or above 6,000 then descend to 5,000 intercepting the localizer at HIPRO. Glideslope intercept is at 2,400 at JALON, but we’ll follow it down if we intercept it before then. Follow glideslope down to ILS minima of 579 and 2400 RVR. If we have the lights or the runway environment in sight, we can descend to 479’ (1,000 above touchdown zone elevation). Normal maneuvers, normal descent to land, otherwise go missed. Missed approach procedure: climb to 900’, then left turn heading 300, intercept Seattle (SEA) radial (R-) 310 to cross WEXUB at or above 3,000, then climb to 5,000 along SEA R-310 to LOFAL and hold. Approach brief complete.”
Passing EMMSS, speed 180 to SONDR.
Below 230, flaps 1.
Flaps 2, speed 215 or below.
Crossing SONDR, speed 160, contact tower.
“Seattle tower, Youngster 5, SONDR, ILS 34L.”
“Youngster 5, Seattle tower, good afternoon. Runway 34L, cleared to land.”
“Cleared to land 34L, Youngster 5.”
Glideslope intercept. Speed 185, flaps 3.
Lower landing gear.
3 green, down and locked.
Full flaps. 1000’.
200. Runway and environment in sight, continue to land.
50.
40.
30.
20.
10.
Touchdown. Spoilers up, brakes on, 2 in reverse.
“Youngster 5, Z C T, hold short N. Contact ground .7.”
“Z C T, short of N, over to ground, Youngster 5.” “Seattle ground, Youngster 5, Z to C.”
“Youngster 5, Seattle ground. The Signature ramp is full, but they do have one due out soon.”
“Roger. I’m just dropping off one passenger, and I need fuel. I can shut down here if you can send a truck.”
“Youngster 5, unable.”
“How long do you think it’ll be?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can I just hop over to Boeing Field then? I don’t want to be sitting for too long.”
“Let me call Signature and see what I can do.”
“Youngster 5.” “Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize. We’re encountering a slight delay for parking. For the sake of time constraints, we may unload at Boeing Field instead. We’ll let you know what happens as it’s available, we appreciate your patience.”
Smolder then taps me on the shoulder.
“Where should I tell my brother to pick me up?”
“I’ll find out in a few. If we have to go somewhere else, it’ll probably be Boeing Field. Where’s home for you?”
“Kent.”
“All the more reason I want to drop you off here.”
“Youngster 5, Signature can make space for you. Continue on T, hold short of Q behind the ILS line.”
“Short Q behind the ILS, Youngster 5.” “Sounds like I can drop you off here. Go ahead and tell him.”
“Got it.”
“Tell him not to go to the terminal.”
“I can send him my current location.”
“Alrighty.”
Despite the time constraint, I order only enough fuel to get us to Texas, where fuel is gonna be much cheaper. Once everything is squared away, we get towed off the ramp approved by ground before queueing for 34C, since we’re right there.
At cruise, we reach the sundown, so I flip on the logo and recognition lights and leave the cabin lights at their lowest setting. Everyone’s asleep now, since we left Victorville at about 9 am, but with a call time of 8, it wasn’t supposed to be worse than a normal day at school. This weekend though I’m sure was expected to be a difficult one, even for me, though admittedly the most difficult part is not all the stopovers, it’s the anxiousness to get going once each drop-off is complete.
As we cross two time zones, I expect to get a bit of jet lag, though a two hour difference doesn’t affect me much if at all, and we spent less than an hour in Yakutat.
Without making too much of a fuss on the way down, we land in Brownsville and at her request, I meet Silverstream’s parents along with the others still with us. I request the tanks to be topped off, so the fueling period is perfect for a bit of talking.
We don’t get into much chat, as they’re much more interested in meeting their daughter’s friends, so I reprogram the FMS and chart course for New Orleans. Nevertheless, after a round of thanks, we’re on our way, but not before Silverstream’s parents ask me about my business; so I give them my card.
Touchdown in New Orleans at 22:34, I get some interesting instructions from ground.
“Young’un (sic) 3, continue down to the end, you’re the final aircraft to use our old terminal on the south side of the field. Courtesy of the port of New Orleans.”
“Thank you so much, please pass my thanks along to them. Is there a gate you want me to park at?”
“Stand by, I’ll get it for ya.”
A few moments later, as I hold, I see a small crew gathering.
“Young’un 3, your gate is… actually, since the terminal’s decommissioned, just follow the instructions of the ground crew.”
“Roger, Youngster 3.”
As soon as I park, I turn on all the lights and prepare to meet a jetway.
“I know you’re a little apprehensive about coming home and leaving your friends, but since the terminal is closing, port authority decided to let us drop you off here. Said we’re the last to officially use it.”
“Wow,” Gallus says with the slightest hint of surprise, “lucky us.”
Once I get the door open, we’re met by the jet bridge operator and a security guard.
“Alright, Gallus. You ready?”
“Yeah.” He replies, but not before breaking and sharing one last good embrace with the ones that are still here.
“Okay, now I’m ready. Thank you so much for getting me back home Max.”
“Of course.” I respond handing him my card. “If you need anything.”
He smiles brightly again as the others send him off with a series of waves before I hand him over to the security guard.
One more drop off to go now, but the gate crew have been told to wait a little while. It’s already close to midnight, so I guess they’re going for the 23:59 cutoff?
Confirmed, as the jetway operator tells me pushback has to be at 23:57 or so. This gives me 5 minutes to go over the last minute details for the leg to Asheville. Ocellus however is completely engrossed in a book, but since she and Sandbar are the last two aboard, I give a much more personalized passenger brief, since they’re sitting next to each other.
When I return to the cockpit, the jetway has retracted for the final time, and the boarding door is closed. I keep the cabin lights on their dimmest setting as I communicate with the tug driver and get my IFR clearance via CPDLC.
At precisely 23:57 and 13 seconds, we initiate pushback. I wait for the all clear to start the engines, and with an assist from the tug, I configure the aircraft for takeoff just as the tug crew disconnect, but just as I contact ground, the lights of the terminal we departed from go out, followed by an open message from ground.
“Goodnight to the original terminal. You’ve done us good since opening day. Rest easy, rest well. You deserve it.”
“Ground, Youngster 2, ready to taxi.”
“Young’un 2, Nawlins ground. Information… Tango current. The winds are calm, altimeter’s 29.92. It’s your lucky night! Standby for taxi instructions.”
“Good timing!”
“Young’un 2, I can get you off runway 2, 11, or 29.”
“I understand you have noise abatement for all of them, and I have performance data for all four. If you’d like to assign the one with the lowest impact, please do.”
“I appreciate that. Runway… 29, taxi via S.”
“S to runway 29, Youngster 2.”
“Young’un 2, you can monitor tower, 119.5.”
“Over to tower, Youngster 2.”
“Young’un 2, runway 29, line up and wait.”
“Line up and wait 29, Youngster 2.”
All lights on, awaiting takeoff clearance.
“Young’un 2, runway 29, cleared for takeoff.”
“Cleared for takeoff 29, Youngster 2.”
80 knots.
V1
Rotate.
V2
Positive rate, gear up.
Flaps up.
“Young’un 2, contact departure. G’night!”
“Over to departure, thanks for the help, Young’un 2.” “New Orleans departure, Youngster 2 off Moisant Yards, 2,000 climbing 9,000.”
“Youngster 2, Big Easy departure, good evening. Resume own navigation direct SJI, climb and maintain 15,000.”
“Direct Semmes, 15,000, Youngster 2.”
Low impact landing at 0350 local time, so no reverse thrust on this one. It’s plenty cool outside, so reverse thrust isn’t really going to make a difference. Nevertheless, after bringing her in gently, I park as far from buildings as possible. I then gently wake Sandbar and Ocellus, both fast asleep, even having slept through the landing.
I help Ocellus with her things then check for snooze lounge availability, as Sandbar insists I rest. Hard as it is for me to admit, this flight I think sets a record for longest domestic trip I’ve done. Across all four mainland US time zones, flown through/over 14 different states, and even though I still have Sandbar with me, I admire his choice to see each of his friends off, seeing as how a wrench has been thrown into their plans as well as everyone else’s.
