Chapter 3

Al found them staring at his plane in bewilderment when he made it outside. Laughing he asked “Not what you were expecting huh?”

Charles’ head was pivoting between the plane and pilot.

Sasha stuttered, “but ... but ... but...”

Still smiling, Al said “It’s a 1950 Mallard. The previous owner had it customized to be convertible for cargo or passengers. The maintenance crew here keep it well maintained. The water landings and take-offs can be a bit rough depending on waves, but it’s safe I assure you. I’ve been flying this baby a couple of times each week for years.”

The couple were still apprehensive about using a seaplane, but they had come this far; time to suck it up and soldier on. Charles finished pushing the cart to the entry door. Al asked them to pass him the bags and he’d stow them in an available spot.

Al invited them on board. “I’ve got the co-pilots seat and a folding jump seat up front, or you can use the folding seats here on the bulkhead. I’m sorry the comfortable seats aren’t installed.” Al then closed and sealed the entry door. He gave them a brief overview of the safety gear locations and its use.

Al asked, “Have you decided where you’re sitting?”

Sasha answered, “I want to sit up front.”

Charles added, “I think I’ll relax back here.”

Al stated “Once we’ve been up for about thirty minutes you can unbuckle and stretch out but you need to be restrained for takeoff and landing. Are you familiar with a five-point restraint?”

Charles shook his head negatively. Al had him sit and showed him how the buckles fastened and released then gave him a headset for communicating with the cockpit.

Taking Sasha to the front he had her sit in the co-pilots’ seat. He showed her the restraining harness and how it worked.

Sasha asked, “will I get to fly a little?”

Continuing on Al asked her, “Do you have a pilot’s license?”

“I don’t.” She said.

Al stated, “OK then, I fly the plane, you watch out the windows. Right?”

Sasha meekly responded, “Don’t touch anything. Just watch the waves roll by. Got it.”

Al started again. “It won’t be that bad. Once we’re at cruising altitude we can chit chat and relax a bit. That’s what the autopilot is for. But I’ll be busy until then.”

Sasha nodded and sat quietly. Al called the tower and received permission to taxi to the smaller runway used for the private terminals. Take off was smooth and they turned due west. Several minutes out over the ocean Al relaxed.

Al informed Charles he could unfasten his restraint and stretch out. He calmly started a conversation with Sasha. “Sorry about that back there. I take safety seriously. Bumping a lever, grabbing the yoke, turning dials, or flipping switches can turn the autopilot off, put us into a nose dive, a stall, change course or a host of other problems and none of them are good.”

Sasha responded, “I understand. It’s really not a problem. I can tell you really like this old plane.”

Al gave her a rundown on the plane. How it had been updated to use turbine engines instead of turbo props, and the customization allowing for cargo or passengers.

Sasha wasn’t all that interested in the plane but hearing him talk was better than watching the endless expanse of ocean.

Two and a half hours later Sasha was wondering if the man had an off switch. He hadn’t quieted down since he started.

He stopped. That got her attention. She saw him checking his watch then adjust a dial.

Al told her he needed to check in. He asked her to make sure Charles was awake and seated properly. She heard him talking into the mic, “Mallard Three to Bimini Base, Mallard Three to Bimini Base, over.”

After a pause. “Transition two-zero-zero-zero feet heading two-seven-zero at altitude, confirmed. Mallard Three out.”

Charles and Sasha came into the cockpit. Charles asked, “What’s going on?”

Al told them both to take a seat and get strapped in they would be landing soon.

Charles exclaimed startled, “We’re going down!”

Sasha asked, “We’re landing?”

Al calmly said, “we’re not going down. Yes, we’re landing.

Sasha continued on, “In the middle of the ocean?”

Al just said a simple, “Yes, and water landings can be rough. So take a seat and put your harnesses on.”

They dutifully complied. Charles was more nervous now than when going through Dulles airport security with the fake passports. He elected to sit up front with the others. Sasha wasn’t nervous. She was more unbelieving than anything else.

“Why here?” She asked.

Al responded, “We need on some more fuel, and I’m hungry.”

Sasha kept on questioning, “Hungry? Fuel? What’s really going on here?”

Charles couldn’t swim. The idea of deliberately landing in the middle of the ocean, in a plane, had absolutely zero appeal. He sat and worried.

Al tried to placate them. “You’re not the first people I’ve brought out here for your group. I’ve done this hundreds of times. Everything is fine. Really. After the note I gave you in the office, you didn’t actually believe I was taking you to New Zealand did you?

Seeing the duo seated and buckled in, Al pushed the yoke forward and began to descend. At twenty-five hundred feet he eased back, slowed their descent and began turning due south.

Al leveled the plane out at two thousand feet and started looking out each of the windows.

He asked Sasha to keep an eye out her side for a boat they were meeting. Al saw the flare first. It was to his left a good distance. He banked the plane east and went lower. He had overshot the rendezvous point because of the couples’ panicking.

Al was right. Water landings were rough. He had shut down the engines and coasted towards a large, expensive looking yacht. A small outboard tender craft sped out to meet them. The crew of the tender attached a rope to a nose hook on the plane and began maneuvering it into position behind the yacht.

Sasha and Charles watched as the tender crew latched a sturdy pole from the yacht transom to the nose hook. The tender crew ran some thick rope to eyelets set into the wing stubs. Crewmen on the yacht then tensioned the ropes ensuring the plane didn’t drift or swing out of position.