Hobo Life- a diversion

Friday night, I had the weather to Ft Pierce all Scott D’d, and the hotel was ready with an after hours shuttle.

But the packing got tricky, had to sort out Dave Schweitert’s almost ready for prime time microscope,

and one thing led to another…

So we took off about 4 hours late, and the front had moved in pretty strong by the time we got close.Visibility was down to 2 miles or so in heavy rain, and the lightning was impressive. I like Buck’s advice. Flying from bad weather into good is OK. But from good weather into bad? Nah.

Long day already, why push it?

Not a problem, just divert. Tamiami is on the way, just another hundred miles South. Gentleman’s IMC, arrived at 12:30, felt pretty smart. Even though by then the weather at Ft Pierce was a little better, the temp/dew point spread up there was still zero, it’s on the coast, we’re down and safe, stop thinking about it.


Ghost town.

Landmark, that Taj Mahal, was empty, and we had to pop open a door, and exit through a hangar. Called a cab…and waited. At 1:45 I called back and she said, sweet Spanglish, “we are trying to please all the customers, it is so very busy, the reason being I don’t know why, could you call back in an hour?” By then, I’d made the 411 rounds of available hotels (none- Spring Break)…Coulda planned this a little better.

I opened the door to a CJ in the big hangar, but chickened out- thought the guy might be armed early in the morning. These jet guys are serious.

So we slept here, thank goodness they are a little lax about locking crew car doors:

Subsequently we scared the snot out of Tony, the line guy, when he went to drive the crew car somewhere at 6:15, and came upon a pair of hobos in his van.

Tony got over it, strong heart.

The Taj Landmark is quite a place, coupla pool tables,

big mezzanine,

nice bar,

exercise room, cute girls up front, no expense spared. No wonder they’re broke, despite sporting gas at $7.15 a gallon.

The CJ had been pulled out!- here just past the big jet at 6:15. Caution was appropriate- or we’d have been busted by more than just Tony.

Perfect day for flying, past the Bahamas, always the reward, this time thinking of Patti Bassett:

past the limestone cliff coast Northwest of Port de Paix,

past the rice paddies at the mouth of the Artibonite River, near San Marc’s,

and, after clearing La Gonave to our West,

right traffic over Cite Soleil,

circle to land 28, and we’re back in business.

I think we’re safe.

They don’t know from hobos down here.