Royals. Problem?

by Split Scimitar

We’re Even Going to Fly

“Boeing 76055, radar service terminated, squawk VFR, change to advisory frequency approved. Enjoy your morning.”

“Change approved, 1200, same to you, 76055.”

Flaps 5, speed to 200.

Below 190, flaps 15.

Airport in sight, landing on runway 3 guaranteed, lower landing gear.

3 green down and locked, flaps 20.

5 miles, 45 degrees to final approach path. Flaps 25.

Flaps 30 lined up with final approach path.

1000.

Gear, down.
Flaps, 30.
Brakes, 2.
Spoilers, armed.

500.

200.

100.

50.

40.
30.

20.

10.

Touchdown. Spoilers up, brakes on, 2 in reverse.

40 knots, disengage reverse thrust.

Filing the reverse order of my previous flight plan, I run to the garage and grab one of my Range Rovers. If I’m going to give them a smooth drive off the beaten path, I’ll trust Land Rover.

Loaded up, pushed back, and no complications except for some engine pressure issues, but are quickly resolved with I open the crossfeed valve for a few seconds. Once all temps look good, I taxi to runway 21.

“Victorville airport information Alpha, 1503Z, wind calm, visibility 10, sky clear below 12,000. Temperature 3, dewpoint -8, altimeter 30.24. All runways restricted access. Prior permission required. Advise on initial contact, you have information Alpha.”

Flaps 15 for takeoff. Autopilot armed, trim set for takeoff.

“Joshua departure, Boeing 76055, IFR to Kona.”

“Boeing 76055, Joshua departure, cleared to Kona as filed. Maintain 12,000. Departure this frequency, squawk 0313.”

“Cleared to Kona as filed, 12,000 on departure, 124.55, squawk 0313, 76055.”

“N055, readback correct, I trust you’ll be in the air soon, talk to you on the go.”

“Boeing 76055.”

Thrust set, airspeed alive gauges in the green.

80 knots.

V₁

Rotate.

V₂

Positive rate, gear up.

Flaps up.

“Joshua departure, Boeing 76055 off Victorville, 3.8 for 12,000.”

“Boeing 76055, Joshua departure, welcome. Turn left direct Paradise, climb and maintain 12,000.”

“Direct Paradise, 12,000, 76055.”

---

“Boeing 76055, runway 17, cleared to land.”

“Cleared to land 17, 76055.”

50.

40.

30.

20.

10.

Touchdown, spoilers up, brakes on, 2 in reverse.

“Boeing 055, continue to the end, left A, park in the South ramp.”

“A, South ramp, 76055.”

Parked, shut down, order fuel to full.

“Just landed,” I text the group. “Where are we meeting?”

Rosalina responds first. “Let’s meet at Sunshine,” following it with a maps location.

“We’ll be on our way soon.” Starlight responds assumably on their behalf.

“Someone call me when you get to Sunshine. I should probably catch up on some sleep.”

With that, I head inside, ask for a snooze room, and set an alarm for 45 minutes, just for average’s sake.

*Call from Selena*

“Hello?”

“RISE AND SHINE! THY PRESENCE IS REQUIRED AT SUNSHINE HELICOPTERS!”

“On the way.” I respond groggily.

After I fire up the Range Rover, I head over to the Sunshine parking lot and park next to Rosalina’s Jeep. I head in and do my best to not appear tired.

“Hello Max.” Sol greets.

“Good morning.” I reply with a little too much pep.

“Sleep well?”

“You could say.”

“How do you do it?” Starlight asks. “You haven’t slept since two nights ago, even with your hourlong power nap.”

“I used to love redeyes. I was basically nocturnal at some points in my career. In any case, I just hope I can make it to the manta dive tonight.”

“As do I.” Rosalina says as she emerges with a folder full of paperwork. “Go ahead and sign off in the usual places.”

I take care of the paperwork and after she files it away, she places some things on top of her desk and takes her logbook, cross-country flight plan form, and the aircraft logbook. With that, we head out to the ramp, and Rosalina for the sake of weight and balance has us sit where she needs us.

I’m sat in the middle front row, right next to Rosalina. Sol and Celestia go in the back with Luna and Selena, leaving Starlight on the outboard left seat. Rosalina hands me the forms she brought with her and asks me to note our engine start and liftoff time.

Once the engine’s started, I note the time in local and Zulu, which is relatively easy, since Hawaii is 10 hours behind GMT year-round.

“Sunshine traffic, Lady Boss departing for Waipio Valley northbound.”

She waits a few seconds to listen for company traffic reports before increasing the collective and getting established in ground effect before she sets takeoff and gets going.

“Okay, can everyone hear me okay?”

I respond with a Shaka as the others verbalize their concurrence.

“Okay, as we make our way to Waipio, let me get you acquainted with the area. Hawai’i, or the Big Island, is the southernmost and the youngest of the Hawaiian islands. It is also the most volcanically active, comprised of five separate volcanoes. Kohala is the northernmost one, and the only one that is extinct. Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea, the two largest volcanoes, are dormant, and both Hualālai and Kīlauea are considered active. The mountain on the highest alert stage is Mauna Loa. However, they’re only at the advisory stage and are no cause for worry. We’ll get back to the volcanoes at the end of the tour, but our first stop is the Waipio Valley. Meaning “curved water” in Hawaiian, the land was inhabited by kings and high chiefs in the early 15th century. Nowadays, its extremely secluded location combined with difficult access for even seasoned motorists makes it a beautiful place to see. We should reach the area shortly, which will give us a good opportunity to see how challenging the drive down is.”

When we arrive over the Waipio dirt road, I watch the crowds try to navigate it, to quite the chagrin.

“Here we are down the way to Waipio Valley. That road down there is the only way in or out. Non-4WD vehicles are forbidden, as the dirt road can vary in grade from 1 in 4 to 1 in 3. It’s definitely not a road to take an economy car in, and it is not for an inexperienced driver.

“Anyway,” Rosalina continues. “The views from down below are quite beautiful, having braved the crowds to see it myself. Talking to locals yielded me a warning about the road, and that if they could, they’d close the road to only tour buses, or something like that, just so that either the historical sanctity is preserved, or it keeps the road clear. Landslides are possible.”

The pilot in me quickly preoccupies itself by noting the times, both local and GMT, and calculating the leg time so I can compare the calculated fuel burn rate to the actual. I’ve never seen it off by more than 0.2 gallons per hour (GPH), and the burn right now compensating for the time hovering is spot on. Now we can head up to Upolu Point, since we missed that portion on the drive yesterday.

“This is Upolu Point. Formed from the last lava flows from Kohala before she went extinct. There are three towns built upon it: Halaula, Kapaau, and Hawi. The beach down at the east end of Halaula is Keokea, nestled within Kēōkea Bay. Kohala’s summit is the small one, peaking at 5,513 feet above sea level.

We don’t spend much time here, but after noting the times, Rosalina heads south towards Kona so she can talk about Hualālai.

“Our next stop is Hualālai, the westernmost volcano of the five, and the one that Kailua-Kona is built on. Hualālai’s last eruption was in the 1800’s, but still considered active as I mentioned before. The summit is a few thousand feet higher than Kohala, at 8,271 feet above sea level.”

She then hits the pilot isolate button so she can’t hear us, but knowing where we are, she’s talking to Kona tower.

“Hualālai lies just east of the Kona airport, the highest point that’s closest to us off our left side.” “Kona tower, Helicopter 572EX clear of the Class D, southbound.”

“Helicopter 572EX, roger. No known traffic south of the airfield. Frequency change approved, shoots.”

“Shoots, thanks for the help.” “Okay, let’s head south so we can see Kīlauea. Kīlauea is the youngest of the big island’s and in the entire Hawaiian archipelago. As such, or rather by coincidence, it is the most volcanically active within the Hawaiian chain and earned a name for itself during its last eruption, having been continuous over the course of about 35 years. Some of the newest lava flow covered roads and buried parts of Leilani Estates, which if you remember we stopped at to see on the drive. Because of the displaced residents and potential for tourist traffic to get up close and personal with the lava flows, entrance into the area is forbidden unless you are a resident or know one. Neither Max or I fit either criterion, so this is the best we can do. The area south of Hilo is pretty busy, so we may encounter some interruptions along the way. Last time I did a tour, most of the lava flow was obviously visible. That was a while ago, so it is possible some of the flow may have been overtaken by vegetation.”

“This Island is very beautiful,” Luna comments from the back.

“The power and beauty of Mother Nature that must be respected.” Celestia adds. “I can see some blackish land in the distance. Is that lava flow?”

“Yes it is. Of course, it did look a lot worse then than now, but if you can imagine, when Kīlauea had its last episode, it was a lot worse.”

“Lahars and pyroclastic flow do not mess around.” I add.

“No they don’t.” Rosalina continues.

Knowing I really need to keep my mouth shut - this is Rosalina’s tour, not mine - I keep timing our legs just to keep myself preoccupied. Problem is, because I’m so accustomed to doing it, I can do it in my sleep. I think it’s because of my desire to be punctual, so keeping my leg times to a T is a behavioral manifestation of one place where I can appropriately micromanage.

Nevertheless, as we get closer to the lava flow, Rosalina tunes both radio frequencies specifically for the high volume of helicopter tours in the area. Knowing she handles it like an absolute legend, seeing as she has quite a few years experience with it, I sit back and watch a master at work.

As we maneuver around the areas, I help Rosalina pinpoint the summit of Kīlauea, since it lies lower than any of the sister peaks, the highest of the various lava vents topping out at 4,091 feet MSL.

“Big Island traffic, Helicopter 572EX over Kīlauea, maneuvering inland towards Mauna Loa.”

“Mauna Loa is the largest volcano in the world above sea level, and second in overall height and prominence. Summiting at 13,679 feet, Mauna Loa is only 127 feet lower than Mauna Kea to the north, which we’ll be climbing tomorrow. Mauna Loa’s most recent eruption was in 1984, and since then has been relatively calm, though recently the alert status was bumped up to advisory due to a notable increase in seismic activity below the mountain. Interesting tidbit, if Mauna Loa was completely above water, it would rise about 1,000 feet higher than Mount Everest, breaking the 30,000 foot barrier.”

Rosalina then increases the collective to full and begins a vertical climb to try and rise above most of the lower landscapes, so as to preview or at least give an idea of the view from above.

“It’s worth noting that both Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea are nice spots to ski or snowboard from. The combination of volcanic glaciers, tropical sub climate down below, and the volcanic ash that when mixed with snow, creates a substance unlike any other. While I do encourage it at least once, any expeditions of the sort require some logistical planning, as there is no equipment available.

“Both mountains house observatories due to their strategic location above the atmospheric inversion layer, low levels of light pollution, and ease of monitoring due to low atmospheric radiation. Mauna Loa’s observatories specifically collect solar data.”

I smile at the affectionate nod to Celestia and Sol, to a lesser extent.

“Big Island traffic, Helicopter 572EX, southeast of Mauna Loa, vertical climb to 10,000.”

When we stop climbing, we all admire the sun at almost high noon over the island. Most of the area around us is unobscured. No clouds today, which is nice. The only things higher than us are the two summits, and they’re both covered in snow. The snow level right now is about 10,000 feet, so unfortunately, even this time of year isn’t the best for skiing or snowboarding.

“It’s beautiful from up here.” Sol says from the backseat.

“You’ve been very lucky to be able to take in views like this for all this time.” Selena adds.

“Actually, I haven’t been done any air work for a long time other than what I need to stay current as an airwoman. This is my second tour in the past handful of years.”

“We are honored to be at your command.” Luna says. “This has been quite an amazing experience.”

“Thank you. I’m glad to be able to show this to you. We’re just about halfway done; all I have left to show you is Hilo and Mauna Kea, then we can head back.

“The town of Hilo is located on old Mauna Loa lava flow, and as I’m sure my husband has said, is much more geared to the locals compared to Kona’s tourist/family feel. Personally, I love Hilo, but I’m glad we operate out of the Kona side for a number of reasons. As we experienced yesterday, including the railroad museum, most of Hilo’s town life is social, with all the bars and restaurants that dot the town. My first impression of Hilo was great, I hope it was for you as well. We’ll fly over Rainbow Falls so we can get a good view from the air before we head for Mauna Kea.”

“Hilo tower, Helicopter 572EX over the town of Mountain View, out of 8,200 descending, request Class D airspace transition. Overfly Rainbow Falls.”

“Helicopter 572EX, Hilo tower. Continue inbound, but remain clear of class D airspace for now. Have a couple IFR departures.”

“Remain clear of class D. Can we hold over the Mill?”

“Helicopter 572EX, affirm. Hold over the Olaa Sugar Mill at or below 2,500. As soon as those IFR departures are airborne, you can expect to transition via Rainbow Falls from the south to the northwest.”

“Hold over the sugar mill at or below 2,500, Helicopter 572EX.” “Okay, looks like we’ll be holding for a little bit. Let me see something really quick.”

I watch her change to the ADS-B screen, revealing two targets on the ground at Hilo airport. One is the obligatory Hawaiian 717, destination listed as Honolulu, and the other is a private jet, with a wonderful registration, destination John Wayne.

“Hawaiian 211, Hilo tower, runway 8, cleared for takeoff. Turn left heading 330.”

“Cleared for takeoff runway 8, heading 330, Hawaiian 211.”

“N824KB, runway 8, line up and wait.”

“Line up and wait runway 8, 824KB.”

“Helicopter 572EX, proceed direct Rainbow Falls, remain at or below 2,500.”

“Direct Rainbow Falls, at or below 2,500, Helicopter 572EX.”

24 seconds later, ATC calls, “N824KB, runway 8, cleared for takeoff, fly runway heading.”

“Cleared for takeoff runway 8, runway heading, 824KB.”

When their ADS-B target shows a change in altitude differential, I decide to scan for them. ATC then hands them off to HCF.

“N824KB, traffic a helicopter 6 o’clock, 5 miles, maneuvering around Rainbow Falls, should be no factor. Contact HCF departure. All the best.”

“Thank you, Mamba Out, 824KB.”

“Now that we’re back at Rainbow Falls, you can get some more pictures before we head to Mauna Kea.”

“Helicopter 572EX, no known traffic to the northwest of the field. Contact Hilo approach on 119.7.”

“119.7, 572EX.” “Hilo approach, Helicopter 572EX, over Rainbow Falls, 2,000.”

“Helicopter 572EX, Hilo approach, roger. Altitude restriction removed.”

“572EX, exiting the Hilo Class D airspace now, proceeding northwest-bound.”

“Helicopter 572EX, Roger. If you want to talk to them, HCF frequency 126.0. Frequency change approved, good day, shoots.”

“Change approved, thanks for the help, shoots, 572EX.”

After I enter another leg time, fuel burn goes a little off, by 0.3 GPH, but is consistent with the extra burn for the vertical climb at Mauna Loa.

“Okay, our final stop is Mauna Kea. Rising the highest of the five peaks on this island, barely beating out Mauna Loa by 117 feet, Mauna Kea is the tallest mountain the world, if the entire mountain was above water. Being the tallest mountain in Hawaii, along with the other mountaintops, they all are sacred to native Hawaiians for the belief that the gods resided there. As such, only ali’i - high ranking chiefs - could climb them. It is for those reasons that even today, the construction of the observatories, particularly the ones on Mauna Kea, are marred with controversy, as they were constructed on native sacred ground, that sacred ground being protected by a government treaty in addition to.”

It doesn’t take too long to reach our optimal viewing area, as we hover over it and climb a few hundred feet, which is my cue to note the leg time and fuel burn, this time more equal to the other legs. Happily, I calculate the total burn thus far and compare it with the dispatched amounts and find a differential of only a few dozen pounds so far. Fuel as a whole looks good with about 3 hours reserve.

We hover over here for about 20 minutes so everyone can take pictures. Having done plenty of ride-alongs with Rosalina, whether they’ve been check-flights, currency exercises, or even a surprise date, I’ve essentially seen it all. That’s not to say I don’t enjoy the time or experiences, I just don’t need photographs. Every time I think of it, it makes me laugh.

When we get the all clear, we head back to base, landing and shutting down with plenty of time until our night dive. I check in to claim to reservation early via the office computer, and once I print a receipt of confirmation, we head for lunch.

A couple hours later, after relaxing at Rosalina’s, we head for the diving center. When we arrive, another group is just coming in from the last daylight dive, and an advanced scuba group in their wake.

“Evening!” A docent calls. “Are you the party of seven under ‘Max’?”

“That’s us!” I call.

“Perfect! You’re our only group tonight, so we can take our time. Is this anyone’s first time?”

Celestia and Luna raise their hands.

“I also haven’t been in a while, but I’m scuba cert.”

“Not to worry. This is our only dive where no prior experience is required. It’s a very simple dive. We’ll head out to our usual spot, I’ll give some of you our lights so you can see. And it can help the rays find food too. Just be careful not to shine it in anyone’s faces for obvious reasons. These are Manta Rays, so they don’t sting, and are quite the gentle giant. That being said, please refrain from touching them, as they are very revered in the Hawaiian islands, as manta rays are believed to be an ‘amakua, a protective deity of a family.”

Once the boats are alighted, we head in for a short intro video on diving safety and additional information about manta rays. When we suit up, I check my tank and set a timer for 24 hours to avoid flying, lest we get decompression sickness, aka the bends.

Soon, we’re sailing out to our dive spot, and Celestia seems pretty excited. She’s one of three who have a lamp. The other two are me and Selena, since our docent wants one with experience, and Rosalina said I should anyway.

The rays should be out in pretty full force, since it’s right around feeding time. Since the rays feed on plankton, using the light is advantageous because once the plankton become visible, it’s game over. The rays will often swirl excitedly around light projections because it’s an area where a lot of visible plankton will gather.

When we reach our spot, the anchor dropped and all ready, I lead the charge behind the docent in jumping into the water.

As I recover from the customary backwards tumble, I turn the light on, with Celestia following suit. Selena then follows her, then Luna, followed by Starlight and finally Sol.

Once we’re all set, I decide to explore a little behind the immediate realm which goes against the docent’s rules, but okay for me because I have experience. Since I also have a light, I’m a literal beacon in case the others need to locate me.

As I scan around, taking the occasional peek to orient myself with the boat, I spot a ray moving towards the boat, probably seeing the other lights.

I illuminate the path ahead to see if it’ll feed, and it does, but it’s not enough to justify rolling around. Instead, I head back to the boat, where rapid movements of light give me the impression that they found a buffet.

Back at the boat, my lamp joins the projections of the others at the endless feast of plankton between us and the boat. Three other rays are already partaking, so when the fourth arrives, it would be wrong for me to say that we’re all taken aback. These beasts of nature, in their natural habitat, paying little mind to the humans below them. Sure, they’re much more preoccupied with feeding, but they don’t seem to notice us, aside from the fact that we’re literally putting their dinner in the spotlight.

After about an hour, the rays disperse but remain within a relatively small radius. Since manta rays are an ‘amakua, I ponder the question of mine, though I’m not native Hawaiian nor do I have any connections to any, at least that I know of.

Our dive lasts two hours, so when that time expires, we get called back to the boat and begin our ascent. My diving buddy is Rosalina by default, so the docent can help Celestia and Luna, since they’re the ones with the least experience among us.

When we breach the surface and shed all our equipment, Celestia sits back blissfully in contrast to Luna who seems more exhausted than satisfied.

When we return to the shore, we return our equipment, I tip our docent 30% since I’m pretty sure he got called in just for us, and head home for the night. The only things left on the list I have are driving to the Mauna Kea observatories and South Point. We have a Land Rover, and we have a Jeep. I think it’ll be fun.