Chapter 15: Time Flies

I thought Daddy would have a conniption fit when he found out the Registrar didn’t have a single record of the Fall semester fun and games. Oh, they had paperwork, but it was strictly the papers on the attempted rape and the arrest of the Dean and his cohorts, not a single thing on the expulsion merry-go-round, or our terrible grades because of it.

“If it’s not written down, it didn’t happen.” I said to Daddy.

“What did you do?” He choked out, “You did something.” He glared at me, “I know you did something ... how did you do it?”

“Daddy, no persons were damaged in the making of this production. We were elsewhere and we have witnesses.” I grinned. “I didn’t do it. Nobody saw me do it. You can’t prove a thing!” Years later, Bart uttered those immortal words. I didn’t know it though.

I have yet to discover why Spring Semester is called Spring Semester. There’s a whole hell of a lot of winter still to go in the cold and snowy wilds of central Michigan.

Even though America was still asleep to the evils performed by our benevolent government, on campuses throughout the country, a glimmer of revolt was brewing ... our gentle world was heading for confrontation.

In January, President Eisenhower announced that the United States had severed diplomatic relations with Cuba.

Soon after, Kennedy is inaugurated President of the U.S. Then he makes history by delivering the first live TV presidential news conference. At the end of the month he set the nation on it’s ear with his first State of the Union Address.

Whoops ... Spring Break. Serious stuff for snow bound College students. A week before school was let out we called our Marina in Florida.

“Would you, please, float our boat?” we asked.

“Time Flies.”

“Triton 28.”

“Yes sir. Wendy and David Austin.”

“We’ll be flying in.”

“No. We have our own.”

“What would you recommend?”

“We’re not float rated.”

“We can get it done.”

I hung up.

‘We need floats, ‘ I thought to Wendy.

‘Call Ben.’

‘Yes Ma’am.’

‘You’re still an idiot.’

‘You love me anyway.’

‘Call Ben!’

‘Are you sure I can’t interest you in a little ... hanky-panky?’ I raised one eyebrow.

‘Later, ‘ she ran that pink tongue around her lips. ‘Call ... or no hanky or panky.’

“Hi Ben. We need floats and water endorsement. We need to make it snappy. I’m cut off until we get it done.” She HIT me, HARD! “OW!

“Yes, Sir ... she did.”

“A week.”

“On our way.”

I swatted her on her tempting butt. “Go, go, go. Time flies.”

A week later, we were on our way to Palm Coast, Florida, to get floats.

Ben knows the weirdest people. We were offered a Grumman Duck and a PBY 5A to buy. But we learned on a Cessna 150. The Duck was mostly sunk and the Catalina was in Lewistown, Montana. Maybe later. Maybe not. More not than maybe.

We brought friends.

Wendy can read minds ... remember? She had delved in to their minds so she knew neither could afford it, so ... Wendy mentioned to a couple of her classmates, that we were flying to Key West for Spring Break. This immediately dissolved into discussion about how lucky we were to have parents with money.

It was becoming a pissing contest between the two girls, when Wendy said, “Would you like to go? Maybe you can catch your boyfriends in indiscretion. They Are going with their Frat and leaving You behind ... We’ll pay.” She grinned, “We’re staying on the boat.” (THE boat ... not OUR boat) “There’s room for you both ... if it gets too crowded we’ll call daddy and get a bigger boat.”

The day arrived ... at 8AM we arrived ... at 8:30, Wendy’s friends arrived... 1/2 hour late. We stood in the terminal and watched the commercial flight take off and head south.

“Oh well. Now you know why it’s important to be on time.” Wendy said.

“Well, let’s go.” I gathered up a years worth of luggage and headed for the door to the tarmac. Ben was waiting.

“What’s all this crap? he said, eyeing the million pounds of suitcases. He looked at the girls. “You’ve never flown before.”

“No,” they twined. “We need that. We must dress to impress.”

“The airlines would have limited you to 35 pounds ... what would you do then?” asked Ben.

“35 pounds? Our makeup weighs more than that!”

“75 if you paid for an extra seat.”

He loaded us up in his doodlebug and drove over to the old hangar.

“You’re going to be in 80 to 90 degree weather for six days and 5 nights.” Ben said, “You’re going to be living on a 28 foot sailboat with 4 people. All you need are bathing suits, shorts, thin blouses, towels, sandals and mosquito dope. There ain’t nowhere you kids can go that’s fancy because you won’t get in. Fancy is booked for two or three years in advance ... and they don’t like Spring Breakers. Go stand on that scales.

“Ok. Balance it. 124. Next. Balance it. 119. Wendy? Balance it. 106. David? Balance it. 165. 514 total.

“This here plane has a maximum weight limit of 3800 pounds ... the plane weighs 2000 dry. Gas is 6.6 pounds a gallon, the plane holds 84 gallons, that’s 554.4 pounds. We’ll make it 600 because there’s oil to be included. Between you, gas, oil and luggage you’re gonna weigh out at 1500 pounds ... give or take a few, You’re thinking ‘there’s 300 pounds left.’ You’ll be sitting on 250 pounds of that because this plane don’t fly without parachutes ... accidents happen. If it’s happening to that commercial flight you missed, you’re dead. With these ‘chutes you have a chance ... slim is better than none.”

Kimberley, one of the girls, asked him why he didn’t include his weight in the mix.

“Cause I ain’t flying this bitch. Wendy is left seat, Dave is right ... it’s their plane.

“Get one suitcase each and sort your junk ... I’ll be watching. I’ll lock up what’s left”

“Wendy, Dave? Go preflight your aircraft.”

When we were in the air, Rachael asked, “your family owns a plane?”

“No, Rache. We, David and I own this plane. We own two, actually. We’ve never flown the other one. We’re looking for an AT6 trainer so we can get enough practice to fly the other one. After we get some taildragger time in David wants a Jet.”

That got some looks!

We set the cruise on 175 at 10,000.

Five hours later we were calling the tower at Palm Coast. 20 minutes later we were taxing up to Ryan Aviation. The girls ran to the potty.

The head mechanic was Ben’s crew chief in the Pacific.

The cradle with the wheeled pontoons was waiting. They drilled some holes, installed some backing plates, installed longer wing braces and the FAA did their inspection ... the inspector knew Charlie and Ben ... and for that matter, Uncle Harry.

My mother’s indiscretion was brought up again.

The whole damn country knew!! The inspector wanted to know what I’d done with the other head. He said I looked normal but you never knew. We left in a cloud of laughter.

I did get a line on a Texan.

Three hours 20 minutes later we waddled up the ramp at West Gulf Seaplanes. “Time Flies” was tied up at the boat dock. I got a lot of congratulations on my landing. I pointed at Wendy and waggled my arms like wings. People were coming out of the walls to shake her hand.

Pete, the owner of West Gulf, wanted to know if we were willing to let him rent the plane for tours and transporting tourists to the outer islands.