Where was I?
Yes…all’s well that end’s well.
I returned the stethoscopes to Dr Gonzalez- the elderly get so cranky.
A little briny, but he won’t notice.
And I was completely scared to fly.
Went with my instructor partner, Bruce Brown, whose PLB never beeped, and when he pulled the power on takeoff, I had a panic attack, even though you can land that 172 at 40 or so.
But notoriety breeds generosity: The Olympus guys came through with 12 scopes! And I had a lot of cleaning solutions, blue gallon jugs of gluteraldehyde and proteozymes that American Airlines felt were Hazmats, and I guess they are.
And all kinds of other stuff. The lab runs month to month, and last month’s supplies were 86’d.
So I needed a plane.
I flew an Aztec, and it looked wheezy, climbed like a dog, handled like a truck, and the avionics involved sun dials, I think.
So I impulsively bought a well used G2, flew it to Ft Lauderdale, missing that R9 a bit, bought a new raft (smaller- sorry), and a new PLB. I saw the original raft on display at Banyan- sure enough, it says it’s a 4-6 seater.
Tied the PLB to my belt- learn something new everyday, put lanyards on my specs, put my passport/money bag INSIDE my shirt where I won’t be able to rip it off with the headset/seatbelts, took a deep breath, and flew to Port au Prince, a non event, though that last couple hundred miles is lonely.
The plane looked sharp on the ramp.
Arrived in time for a Sunday tradition: Rick and Wynn and Conan take a truckload of neighborhood kids for ice cream. They put 20 in the back of the truck, and everybody sits pretty still for young kids (not very).
Rick gets a head count, and we bring back 30 pints, just to be sure- they squirm around a good bit and it’s hard to get an accurate count.
The kids eat nicely, and Wynn rides herd.
Damn, it’s good to be back.