Another flying story. (And the time I shouldāve died). š³
When I was the Operations Officer for a USAF C-141 squadron at Travis AFB, CA, we had an āIsland Runā where we flew to Hawaii, Johnston Atoll, Kwajalein, Midway Island, and into crew rest. The next day, back to Honolulu. Long first day and mostly in the middle of the night.
On approach to Midway one midnight we hit severe turbulence on at about 500 feet and ingested birds into two engines. Lost one and the other was degraded but still operating at about 50%. I initiated a go around, climbed out, and entering holding to run checklists and access our damage. The weather folks in Midway radioed that it was only going to get worse. We couldnāt get in and our divert base was Honolulu.
Thankfully, Iād ātankeredā some fuel. For the wife and the kids, we used to say.
Unfortunately, because of the severe turbulence, we lost our dual navigation systems (INS) and diverting back to Honolulu was our only option.
Initially, I asked for a āDF steerā on the HF radios. Pilots will get how nits that is. Basically, a WWII means of picking up a radio signal and flying to it for about 3 hours. Itās an emergency situation, definitely.
To compound matters, my copilot was so freaked out she became āinoperable.ā She couldnāt talk. So, now Iām soloing.
In what I can only surmise was a God thing, my flight engineer āSmittyā happened to be an avid fisherman and just happened to have an original Garmin GPS in his helmet bag.
This was our conversation exactly. He pulls out something Iāve never seen. He says, āhey, will this work boss?ā I said, āfuck yeah, plug in HNL and give me a heading!ā It worked. We taped Smittyās little GPS to the cockpit dash so I could see the course and navigate accordingly. I flew that frikking line like it was life, because it was life.
Approximately 3 hours later, we picked up the lights of the islands. Honolulu picked us up on radio and put us on vectors. We and landed safely in Honolulu. Sometimes you feel Godās hand on your shoulder.
I made my copilot fly the approach to bring her around. Much like driving a car after an accident. She wasnāt happy about it but she cowboyed up.
The night I probably shouldāve died.