Hidden Courage (Atlantis) (5 page)

Just like his previous airport, he needed to turn inland to the city of
Zacatecoluca
in
El Salvador
. Along the way, he took in the sights of the villages and towns, as well as the road that lead to the main city.

“Wow; everything looks rundown,” he said to himself.

As he was scanning the horizon for traffic, something caught his attention. Looking down, he could see that the side of a mountain had slid off and wiped out half the town. The devastation looked awful and widespread. He realized then that tragedies happen all over the world and go unreported, something that was obvious but he’d never given it any thought until the moment. Minutes later, he landed at El Salvador International, where he was greeted by two more military-type customs agents who wanted to have a ‘talk’ with him.

Jack was gruffly ordered to stand clear while the agents made a search of his plane. Even though Jack filed flight plans with every flight he took, something drug traffickers never did, he was still regarded as a possible suspect and treated like one until he was proven innocent after they found nothing. Once cleared, the agents became all smiles and were very helpful. Relieved, Jack accepted their handshakes and asked where the FBO was located.

This was Jack’s home for the night. Having taken care of the usual things – gas, weather for the next day and customs requirements for Nicaragua, Costa Rica and Panama (the next three countries he would be transitioning through) – he was ready for bed.

Unfortunately, Jack’s bed for the evening was a broken couch. The pilot amenities in
El Salvador
were not up to the standards of the
US
. The couch, if it could be called that, had no cushions. Instead, someone had laid down old newspapers where the cushions had once been to soften the seat. The backrest was torn, dirty and smelled.

“Holy crap, what a freakin’ pigsty,” Jack announced with dread. “This is a step down even for a skid row bum.”

Hesitantly, he laid down for a minute to test the comfort factor.

“You’ve gotta be freakin' kidding me. On a scale of one to ten, I’d rate this as a negative one,” Jack blurted out in disgust. “I’m outta here.”

He decided that the passenger seat in his plane would give him a much more comfortable rest. He grabbed his things and made his way to the tarmac.

Inside the plane, Jack moved some things around to allow for the seat to recline a bit. He then placed his sleeping bag on it for cushioning and got in and laid down. The temperatures were mild so he only needed his fleece jacket as a blanket. As he started to fall asleep, he felt a little uneasy as he watched the occasional pair of soldiers, rifles slung over their shoulders, patrolling the terminal. As he locked the doors to the plane and closed his eyes, he tried to block out the graphic images of unlawful arrests he had read about in past research. Eventually, exhaustion won out over worry and he fell into a deep sleep.

DAY
5

Jack felt heat on his face. With his eyes closed, the sun pieced through his eyelids, causing discomfort and dryness. As he slowly opened his eyes, he could hear the whine of jet engines as they were being started. He sat up and looked around the airport. It was morning, and the international airport was bustling with early morning traffic readying for departure.

He woke hungry, so he grabbed himself another peanut butter sandwich and some water. Finishing breakfast, he got out of the plane and took care of business for the day's flights.

Having checked the weather, he was now ready for the day’s events. He would be landing at four different airports, the first leg taking only about an hour to complete.

As Jack departed the
El Salvador
Airport
, he was glad to be out of there. The place felt dirty, rundown and dangerous. As he flew back to the coastline and headed east, his sense of worry disappeared and was replaced with excitement for the day’s destinations. El Tamarindo Airport was his next stop, a little over an hour away.

As he flew east, he could see many expensive homes that lined the beaches. The land was flat with an occasional forest far in the distance that Jack took to be jungle. At times the land changed to rugged hills, then just as quickly it changed back to vegetated plains. The narrow beach communities looked tranquil and inviting as he neared the town of
El Tamarindo
, the last point before
Honduras
.

Up ahead, Jack could see the enormous bay that protected his destination. Minutes later, he made out the image of the single runway that looked like it ran right into the ocean. He contacted the control tower, which gave him instructions to land from out over the ocean.

As he looked down at the water during his approach, he could see fishermen in their tiny boats, hauling in their nets by hand. It reminded him of Ernest Hemingway’s novel ‘The Old Man and the Sea’.

“Huh, such a simple way to live... I wonder if it’s a happier life?” Jack wondered to himself.

Heading straight in to the runway, he crossed over the beach and lightly touched down. He stopped only long enough to refuel and was on his way. As he departed, he could see golf courses and fancy hotels and quickly realized this was a tourist spot. He made a mental note of it as he crossed the beach out into open water.

The huge bay he was crossing was in
Honduras
airspace. He contacted ATC and was cleared for his route of flight. The bay was enormous, but unremarkable, with a couple of islands that dotted the horizon. He looked down and could see a tanker and a few small pleasure boats in the distance.

Twenty minutes later he crossed back onto land. This time he was over Nicaraguan soil.

As he flew along their coast, he saw that the beaches were deserted.

‘What a waste,’ he thought as he looked down.

He thought about landing in the ocean and pulling the plane up onto one of the beautiful white sandy beaches, but knew
Nicaragua
was one of the more inhospitable countries to fly in.

“Forget about it, Jack. The last thing you need is full body cavity search by some sadistic soldier toting a gun,” Jack said to himself. “Better to hurry through as fast as you can.”

Two hours later he landed at the Punta Renes airport in
Costa Rica
. As always, he was ‘greeted’ by customs. He showed them his paperwork, they made a quick and painless search, then gave him instruction to the FBO on the field, where he gassed up, ate a sandwich and checked the weather further east.

The next leg would take him over the jungle regions of
Costa Rica
. He was a bit nervous about this. If he had any malfunctions at all, he would crash and be lost forever. He took all the necessary precautions, including a detailed route of flight he filed with the local ATC. With that, he got under way.

The land was as he had read: mountainous, dangerous and green. There was no mistaking this land. It was jungle. He envisioned Tarzan swing from a vine below as he watched the land pass underneath. There were almost no landmarks to check his progress against, except for an occasional road that wound its way through some of the lower level elevations.

Once in a while, Jack spotted a low-level flat valley that held a tiny community.

He wondered out loud, “What would entice someone to live in that kind of isolation? And what the heck do they do for a living?"

The time passed slowly as Jack nervously checked his engine gauges.

At last, the landscape relaxed a bit. The rugged mountains were now rolling hills, still dangerous, but less remote. Tiny villages appeared more frequently. Out in the distance, he could now see water; the
Atlantic Ocean
. With a little help from ATC, Jack found the little airport and landed.

As he was taxiing to the FBO, he breathed a sigh of relief and realized he was drenched with sweat. It was at that moment that he realized how scary the flight actually was.

He refueled, checked the weather and filed another flight plan with ATC for his next destination –
Panama
.

Jack departed the tiny airport and headed out over the enormous bay that spanned from
Costa Rica
through
Panama
. It would take him over two hours to fly, then another hour over land to
Panama
. This was going to be another stressful flight.

For the first thirty minutes, Jack could see land and felt somewhat secure knowing he could land in the water and be quickly rescued. As he passed the halfway mark, the land was no longer visible.

“Damn, this is scary. Who signed me up for this, anyway?” Jack nervously joked to himself.

An hour and a half into the flight, he could now make out the distant shore and began to feel better. He could see large ships below as he neared Panama, and felt relieved knowing he could easily be picked up in an emergency by one of them.

Crossing the shore into
Panama
, the terrain became quickly inhospitable again, much like
Costa Rica
was on the previous leg. Deep inside the country, the rugged jungle mountains dropped away and Jack crossed over a large lake that took nearly a half hour to travel. He felt better knowing this could be an emergency landing spot if anything unfortunate were to happen.

As he crossed from the lake into land, the vegetation turned heavy again on rolling hills. This was a lower elevation jungle that held tiny communities.

“Man, more villages out in the middle of nowhere. I wonder if they even have running water?” Jack speculated.

As he neared
Panama
, ATC gave him vectors to follow. They weren’t giving him a straight path into the airport, choosing to route him around the bigger commercial jets. With his fuel running low, he felt nervous and hoped it wouldn’t take them long to get him in. As he circled around, he noticed a bigger river below with a good deal of shipping on it. As he checked the map, he realized it was the
Panama Canal
.

“Cool; now that’s worth a few photos to show the ole grandkids,” he said to himself, reaching for his camera.

Thirty minutes later, as he crossed the city of
Panama
and touch down at the large international airport, he looked down and saw his fuel gauges read ‘empty’.

“That was too close,” he said to himself. “I hate when they do that. I wonder if I claimed I was a slow-flying jet, they’d land me first too?”

He taxied to customs for his routine inspection, where two soldiers awaited his arrival. Just as he had experienced so many times before, they inspected his gear and gave him directions to the FBO for fueling.

Jack entered the pilots’ lounge. This time there were ‘real’ pilots utilizing the facility.

‘You’re on my bed,’ he thought to himself, as he saw a couple of commercial pilots relaxing on the couch.

Joking to himself, he said, “Make sure you take your farts with you.”

Jack knew they’d be leaving soon, so he wandered the terminal, eating a peanut butter sandwich and taking in the sights. As darkness fell, he made his way back to the pilots’ lounge. Rounding the corner into the room, he noticed it was empty.

“Ahh, peace and quiet. I wonder if anyone would mind if I placed a ‘Do not disturb’ sign on the door,” he joked to himself.

Jack was thoroughly exhausted from the stressful flights of the day and immediately plunked himself down on the couch and fell asleep. He was awakened a couple of hours later by two commercial pilots discussing the weather and routing of their next flight. They realized they were waking Jack and took their meeting elsewhere. As he closed his eyes and listened, their voices trailed off down the hallway. In a flash, he fell asleep even before their voices were gone.