over the North Atlantic, Friday, 1999-03-19 14:30Z
We're directly west of Ireland, straight south of Iceland, two and one-half hours into an eight hour flight from Paris to JFK. I'm in the nose of the main deck on the fourth and last airplane to come out of Jeddah. Thus ends the inbound portion of this Hajj. I've had five schedule changes in the last forty-eight hours. Most of the 120 Tower personnel on this ferry flight have had at least three changes in the same time. My extra two changes have been due to my having to do the required every-six-months sim check before the end of this month. If that doesn't happen, the company gets a fine—$1,000 for every leg I've flown during the month as I remember—since this is my grace month. Tower rarely thinks about the FAA training requirements until a crisis is created by the training not having been done.
When I do get to the sim, it will be my last or second to the last one depending on whether Tower wants to pay for one more just to get the final fifty-one days possible before I turn sixty on October 22. If they don't, August 31 will have to be my last flight day.
Since my last message, I've operated to Mumbai, layed over, operated back to Jeddah, got a few hours in the hotel there but no sleep, deadheaded to Paris, slept there for fourteen hours, and am now deadheading to JFK. With luck, I'll be able to get a jumpseat out of JFK to San Francisco, and then one to Eugene or Portland from there. If I can get Eugene, I'll be home about midnight. Of course, I may get stalled in JFK or San Francisco for the night. If I get to Portland, it'll be rent-a-car time and arrival at home about 02:00. Unfortunately, I'll have to be released by crew scheduling to even try that, and they may yet try to get me to Miami for sim, but I'm hoping not. I WANT TO GO HOME.
This business of sending people to the sim for check rides directly from a long, drawn out, fatiguing schedule and with no time for preparation is one of the things about this company that I dislike the most.
It doesn't take many days for the experiences of a trip to fade from memory, especially the details. Yesterday I had a number of small items I wanted to get down. Today most are gone, but I do remember the Viagra thing. At least half the pilots went down and bought Viagra just out of curiosity. In Saudi, as in the U.S., you cannot legally buy Viagra without a prescription. However, somebody found out that a pharmacy just down the street from the hotel had a cooperative pharmacist, and the word quickly spread that he was charging 100 riyals per pill. That's about $27, a little steep compared to the U.S. legal price of $10 but in line with the U.S. illegal price of $30.
I also remember the faces of the Indian Hajjis. Indonesian Hajjis tended to look very similar from my perspective, but the Indian faces and bodies seemed more unique. David, had you been along, I think you might have been interested in doing some portraiture work. The Indian Hajjis also had children with them occasionally, not often, one or two per flight, and an occasional baby. No children or babies were ever aboard an Indonesian Hajj flight.
Oh, yes, and one naked man who took a stroll around the main deck. It didn't happen on one of my flights, but the flight attendants told of it. The Indian Hajj costume is simply some white wrappings, and if they get uncomfortably warm, the males would quickly remove it down to the waist. This guy was old, and he went all the way.
With very few exceptions, the Hajjis have never before been on an airplane. They usually cannot figure out how to open the overhead bins, fasten their seat belts, or adjust their seat backs. Flight attendants usually have to help almost all of them fasten their seat belts even after they have observed the Hajji seated next to them being helped to fasten his. The flight attendants don't bother to even let them know they can recline the backs of their seats. No wonder the toilets are a total mystery to them.
Terry