Utila is an island about 30 miles off the northern coast of Honduras just north of a city called La Ceiba. When traveling between this island and mainland Honduras, we would always travel by air. At the time, as far as I knew, there was only one charter company operating a service between La Ceiba and Utila and so, over time, we got to know one of the pilots very well. So well, in fact, that he would let us take turns flying in the seat next to him so we could watch him fly the airplane and get a pilot's eye view of the trip. It was a lot of fun.
During one of our routine trips back to the island of Utila we were conversing with the pilot and rehearsing back to him what we had learned about flying...just basic stuff like if you push the yolk forward the nose of the plane falls and you begin a descent and if you pull the yolk back, you ease the plane into a climb...stuff like that and out of the blue the pilot asked us if we would like to take the yolk. We said yes and so he coached us through taking the plane into a couple of slow dives followed by some slow easy climbs.
It was an experience we will never forget. I don't think there will ever be another time when I will ever be allowed to take the stick of a plane in flight.
After he had done this he turned to us and sort of hesitantly asked us not to tell anyone that he had allowed us to do that. We both promised that we wouldn't but I guess he was scared enough that we might, that he never offered the controls to us again after that. But, what a totally unexpected treat it was to take the controls for a few seconds. We were both like a couple of kids playing with the coolest toy ever that day. What a memory.
The pilot must have been in a particularly mischievous mood that day because after his fears about us telling someone that he had allowed us to pilot his airplane were allayed, he playfully asked if we wanted to see something funny. My companion and I both said of course so he said watch this as we were just approaching the island.
The runway at the Utila airport ran perpendicular to the flight path from La Ceiba and so normally the pilot would swing the plane wide and to the left and turn 90 degrees to line the airplane up with the runway, but this time, he didn't...he just kept his plane pointed headlong into the island and kept descending as though he were going to attempt a landing. But remember, he's coming into the island perpendicular to the runway.
The airport was only a tiny 1/4 mile strip of dirt on the south eastern tip of the island and so there were no permanent offices or human presence of any kind at the airport. But, the travel agency on the island would monitor flights into the island and a couple of girls would walk down to the airstrip to greet all new arrivals to the island. As we would approach the island we could see them waving and they would continue waving until we had safely come to a stop on the runway and then would greet us as we got down out of the airplane. They were always very nice. It may seem quaint now, but at the time it was a service which we really appreciated and something we looked forward to and one which made us feel welcome when we arrived back again on the island. And we would then walk back with them into the interior as we made our way home.
Anyway, like I was saying, today was different and the pilot didn't even attempt to line his plane up with the runway and was all the while losing altitude as we approached the island. We could clearly see the girls who had made the walk down to the airstrip and they had already begun waving. As we closed the distance between us and them we could see the look of confusion at first and then outright panic as they scrambled for cover and dove to the ground hugging it as we flew over, the airplane dipping down to just above the tree line before the pilot laughing to himself pulled the plane back out of its dive and circled around to make his final approach to the airstrip.
That day we weren't greeted by anyone and we had to make our way back home alone. I'm not sure if the greeters complained about our pilot's behavior or not, but he never did that again either.
After our next trip out to the mainland and back, our greeters had returned to welcome us back to the island as usual, and all was back to normal. And even though we walked back that day with the girls who had come out to meet us and we talked with them all the way back into the island, they never mentioned our previous trip and how they were forced to run for their lives believing we were surely going to crash. It was a very normal, yet very calculated and strained conversation which led us to believe that they didn't want to remember or talk of that event ever again, so we never spoke of it with them.
We continued our trips back and forth between the island and the mainland with the same pilot, but things were much more restrained and formal from that time forward. It was almost as if there was a mutual acknowledgement that some lines had been crossed that day which shouldn't be crossed a second time, and I for one was OK with that.
I remember wondering what the pilot was doing when he buzzed those girls and hoped it was all a joke but who can say about a thing like that? Certainly not me. And I was desperately relieved when he pulled up on the yolk and came around landing safely.
I felt very sorry for the girls. They obviously didn't think it was funny at all. So it was a day which although it started out being exciting and novel, was ultimately tainted with a haunting, and brooding feeling of regret. If I could undo that day, I would and I'd try to do it differently.
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