NYTimes.com Article: Finding Adventure in Puddle Jumpers

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Finding Adventure in Puddle Jumpers

August 17, 2004
 By PERRY GARFINKEL





Robert Cullinan, a marketing consultant in San Rafael,
Calif., takes almost masochistic pleasure in recounting the
ordeal. But who could blame him for accepting an invitation
to Tonga to attend the 50th birthday party of the Pacific
island's crown prince six years ago, even if it did mean
starting in San Francisco, changing planes in Los Angeles
for a flight to New Zealand and then puddle-jumping over
the Pacific to islands with names like Nuku'alofa and
Ha'apai?

Mechanical delays at Auckland, New Zealand, put the plane
behind schedule, Mr. Cullinan says, and continuing problems
forced it to land at Nadi in Fiji. Hustling to keep moving,
he boarded a Tongan Army PT boat for five hours, battling
15-foot waves "and the worst case of seasickness you can
ever imagine,'' he said. He then talked his way onto a
rickety DeHavilland Twin Otter, a 30-year-old twin-engine
16-seat airplane operated by Royal Tongan Airlines, rather
than continue by sea.

Luckily for him, the birthday party was still in full swing
by the time he arrived after four days of travel and five
hours of sleep. "The prince is playing Gershwin on the
piano and, to the best of my recollection, I'm singing
backups,'' he said.

An unusual adventure? Perhaps. But Robert Miller, an
official with the Population Council in New York, tops it.
While working in Nepal in the early 1970's on a
family-planning program, he and several colleagues took a
flight on a seven-seat Pilatus Porter to see the sights in
the Langtang Valley near the Tibet border. The pilot
dropped them off on a remote airstrip and took off,
promising to pick them up the next day.

Overnight, a snowstorm hit. The next day, the plane
returned, "buzzed our heads and dropped a note out the
window,'' Mr. Miller said. "It said, 'Can't land in the
snow; I'll be back when it melts.' " The group, now out of
food, "scrambled back to the runway, gathering up the
orange peels we had dropped the day before, picked
dandelions, mixed in some ginger candy we had saved and
made a delicious tea,'' he said. "We traded socks to
passing Tibetans for some potatoes.'' They slept for three
days in a yak herder's stone cottage that had walls but no
roof.

Ah, the good old days of puddle jumpers - the real ones.
The term, which originated in the 1930's, "has since become
archaic,'' said William A. Schoneberger, an aviation
historian and author in Malibu, Calif. "But it still evokes
romantic memories of when aviation was a great wonder and
landing strips and runways were just as likely to be grass
and dirt, open fields and pastures." And, often, puddles.

Then, puddle jumpers were propeller-driven single- and
twin-engine planes made by Cessna and Beechcraft and
Stearman that seated two to six people, including a pilot.
Today, Mr. Schoneberger said, they are called general
aviation and commuter aircraft and include turboprop planes
that can seat 16 or more. While they have their drawbacks,
like cramped and loud interiors and frequent cancellations,
they remain an essential, often the only, means for
business travelers to connect smaller destinations to
larger cities.

Valarie D'Elia, host of "The Travel Show'' on the WOR Radio
Network, said travelers could find some solace if their
flights were canceled: Under Rule 240, the airlines will
compensate travelers for missed connections caused by
cancellations or delays with vouchers for future travel, so
long as weather was not the culprit.

Some travelers manage to find silver linings in dire
situations. Last winter, Barry Rosenthal was waiting at
Boston's Logan Airport to take a 40-minute Cape Air flight
back to his home and office on Martha's Vineyard, wearily
tracking the progress of an impending snowstorm. When the
flight was canceled, he and several other Vineyard-bound
passengers took a Cessna nine-seat twin-engine propeller
plane to Hyannis, on Cape Cod, with plans to take a taxi
from there to the ferry terminal at Woods Hole.

They landed at Hyannis to raging weather and had to wait
for several hours for two cabs, both of which lacked snow
tires. "That 30-mile drive was one of the scariest trips
I've ever been on, land, sea or air," said Mr. Rosenthal,
the president of BR Creative, an ad agency. "At least three
times the taxi swerved into the oncoming lane. At one point
we were skidding perpendicular to the road."

The silver lining? "The experience bonded our group so much
that I made several lasting friendships from it," he said.

Some flights that start grandly end in quiet desperation.
As the only passenger on a short sunset flight on a
six-seater from Bellingham to the San Juan Islands in
Washington State, Bernard Ohanian, an associate editor at
National Geographic Magazine, in Washington, D.C., was
looking forward to a scenic journey. When the pilot invited
him to sit beside him, "I thought, 'Cool, I've never sat in
a cockpit before,' " recalled Mr. Ohanian, who was doing
research for a story.

"As twilight quickly turned to nighttime, just to make
conversation, I innocently asked, 'Is this your last run?'
He said, 'Well, I hope so. I can't see in the dark.' "

Mr. Ohanian says he vacillated between offering to take
over the control panels, even though he is not a pilot, and
asking the pilot to land immediately. He did neither, and
the plane landed safely.

A Honolulu publicist, Sheila Donnelly Theroux, president of
Sheila Donnelly & Associates, used to fly the Royal
Hawaiian Air Service from Honolulu to Kaanapali on Maui.
"Six-seaters, high winds, we'd circle the airport time
after time," she said. "One time, the wind made the plane
dip so drastically we almost slammed into the ocean right
off the coast of Maui. I always had a bag poised. I'd
arrive for meetings looking green and smattered.''

Finally, she learned how to hypnotize herself by counting
slowly backwards from 100 until she fell into a deep sleep
that kept her blissfully unaware of any turbulence.

Amy Schultz had a white-knuckle brush with disaster on a
puddle jumper in 1996 - and is glad she did. Ms. Schultz,
today the director of special events for the University of
Texas at Arlington, was the sole passenger on a Piper
Warrior four-seater that was making a one-hour hop from
Daytona to St. Augustine six years ago.

The flight was uneventful until the pilot came in for a
landing and misjudged the runway. The propeller hit the
ground "with a loud sound somewhere between a thud and
clunk,'' Ms. Schultz said.

The pilot pulled up on the rudder and lifted the plane back
up, but there was more to come. Two nearby planes with
military pilots at the controls, summoned by the St.
Augustine air-traffic controller to check on the
propeller's condition, zoomed in seemingly out of nowhere
and pressed within 20 yards of Ms. Schultz's plane,
frightening her even more. "I can't say I saw my life flash
before me, but I did wonder how I would explain it all to
my family from the hospital later,'' she said.

The propeller was fine and the pilot brought the plane down
safely. After it landed, "First I kissed him and then I
kissed the ground,'' Ms. Schultz said. "We sat in the
airport lounge and collected ourselves. He was so calm and
comforting.'' Six months later, the pilot, Brian Schultz,
proposed.

James Phillips has a sadder tale to tell of escape from
disaster. Four years ago in Ghana, a last-minute change in
plans kept him off a plane that crash-landed in Accra, the
capital, killing eight passengers and injuring many others.
"I was stunned, as were many of my colleagues who thought I
was on that plane," said Mr. Phillips, who also works for
the Population Council. "In typical African style, our
hosts threw a huge party celebrating my survival."

http://www.nytimes.com/2004/08/17/business/17puddle.html?ex=1093775117&ei=1&en=2a91eb557f93c098


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