About 33 years ago, has it actually been that long? My then girlfriend and future wife and as it turned out, lifelong co-pilot and I set off on a typical flying weekend adventure to Block Island, RI in the fall of 80. A great place to go for either a spring or fall destination.
With no students scheduled or their requests moved to Sunday’s schedule and the venerable 172 available and reserved just for me, it looked like it was going to be a perfect trip. Great weather, briefing complete, IFR flight plan filed with a 7:30AM take off , Dir COL, Dir JFK,V1 DPK, V46 HTO, dir SEY/KBID 5K and filing the reverse course for our planed return trip around 5:30PM that same evening. I figured with the early morning time of flight and an IFR fight plan filed getting approval through the Class B airspace would be a non- issue.
Never did understand it, but learned not to question it, I loaded our luggage one small bag for me, two for her, for our day, not overnight , trip to Block Island.
As we taxied for runway 32 from the ramp at BLM, I called McGuire delivery. “ McGuire Clearance Delivery, nine seven three Romeo Papa, IFR, KBID”, Nine Seven Three Romeo Papa, McGuire. Are you ready to copy sir? “Romeo Papa ready to copy” .
Nine Seven Three Romeo Papa , cleared to Robbinsville, Dir Stillwater,………… I didn’t even bother copying or try to comprehend where they wanted to route me. I waited for the controller to either stop speaking or take a breath. I had decided I wasn’t going to allow the controllers to turn my hour and half pleasure flight along the Jersey and New York coasts into a 3 hour shuttle around the western and northern sections of the tri-state area.
“McGuire, I’m not going to accept that routing”, silence, “McGuire, you read Romeo Papa?”. “McGuire, Romeo Papa is unable to accept that clearance. “ Nine Seven Three Romeo Papa, McGuire, how do you read sir? “McGuire ,I read you Loud and clear, and I will not accept that clearance , unable, Nine Seven Three Romeo Papa”. Nine Seven Three Romeo Papa, We can re-submit your request, perhaps it will be available later today. “McGuire, no thank you, Nine Seven Three Romeo Papa”.
Now I had towed banners along the Jersey and New York coasts for more years then I care to think of, from Point Pleasant Beach up the Jersey shore to Sandy Hook, crossing over to Coney Island, around Breezy Point and out to Jones Beach. All performed while in a modified J3 towing any number of cotton banner signs ,Like : “Buy Julian’s Bait”, “Use The Yellow Pages”, “Shop Allied Carpet” and of all the time I spent hunting for a certain park or while searching for a street address intersecting with a beach while dragging that “Will you marry me?” banner had taught me at least one thing about that airspace, It’s a very specialized airspace that exists along the coast, about a ľ of a mile and 500 feet off the beaches. All the traffic, 99% anyway is moving in the same direction, about the same height and about the same speed, if it can be called speed , about 45 to 50 miles an hour.
During the summer there may be 20 to 30 aircraft within that airspace, throw in the helicopters, police, coast guard and civilian. The wake turbulence from the jumbos landing at JFK and the occasional fast movers putting on airshows at local beaches and the ever present kids and adults, flying kites, it can all make for quite a ride. That airspace is almost empty this time of the year, I was comfortable flying at that level. Not sure that Kathleen would be. That was plan B.
Besides we would spend less time at that level then I did when I towed banners, it was an option. We departed KBLM VFR with a new plan A, climbing to 6500 feet, direct COL and I called McGuire Approach at 1500 feet and asked for flight following , advised them of my route and requested direct JFK, dir DPK, DIR SEY 6500 and They never batted an eye, they cleared me to JFK restricted me to 4500 feet, but we got option A.
As we approached the tip of Sandy Hook, nearing 4500 feet, as I was contacting Kennedy approach , I had just depressed the push to talk switch and began my report when from somewhere directly behind me there was a tremendous bang, so loud that the controller immediately ask if I had a problem. He got dead air followed by a “standby” . I looked to my right, no mistaking the terror on Kathleen’s face Not sure what had happened, my mind was racing I began to hear my primary flight instructors voice in my head, telling me to think first, is the engine running, developing power, do I see any oil on the wind shield, do I smell anything hot. Scan, Scan, Scan.
Do I have control, make small adjustments. Does something not look or feel right. Control the aircraft. Turn back towards land, “Kennedy approach, Nine Seven Three Romeo Papa is starting a slow turn and will be descending proceeding direct COL for the approach” Kennedy handed me off to McGuire and McGuire pointed out a private runway at the Fish factory Locate near Earl. That’s when I first noticed that everything in the aircraft cabin, didn’t look right, in fact everywhere I looked in the aircraft and when I looked back at Kathleen, I noticed white flakes, in her hair. Pure white puffs mixed in with the golden tones of her hair. Puffs of Popcorn. I reached over and picked a few puffs of popcorn out of her hair she looked in the back seat and said:” the bowl of popcorn exploded”. It was a Tupperware bowl, She had popped corn this morning as a snack. Packed it in a Tupperware bowl and sealed the lid at sea level.
The pressure had built up as I climbed out . A non- emergency, emergency, a new tool for my training bag of tricks. I questioned Kathy’s resolve to press on toward Block Island and she assured me she was up for the adventure. I notified McGuire and they passed me back to Kennedy approach. We had a fantastic day on Block Island and our return flight that evening was spectacular, our routing from ATC was a Direct DPK, V1, JFK, Dir Col for the approach KBLM.
I lost my co-pilot this past July, prior to her passing, my Kathleen loved to reminisce about that day in the fall that we flew out to Block Island and her popcorn bowel exploded. It was only one of many such flights to Block Island, But that was her favorite, I was a very lucky man.
