One morning I walked into the lobby and saw our Charter Department dispatcher standing beside a young man who looked to be around 20 years old. He called me over and said the fellow wanted to take an airplane ride around Charlotte. He said the 172 was available and asked if I could fly the trip. I said sure, introduced myself, and then went out to preflight the airplane while they took care of the paperwork. Later, when we were getting settled in the 172, I asked the guy if there was any place special he wanted to see. He said: "No, I just always thought it would be cool to ride in an airplane." I thought I detected a hint of alcohol on his breath, so I probed deeper. He said it was a spur of the moment thing. It was a nice day; he had extra cash and thought why not today. He didn't appear to be drunk, so I thought, why not!
On the taxi out he told me he had graduated from South Mecklenburg High School two years earlier. That seemed like a good place to start. I told him we would circle the high school and then fly a counter-clockwise circle around the city. I would show him the Charlotte Coliseum (now Bojangles Arena), UNCC, Lake Norman, the Catawba River, and downtown Charlotte. He said he thought that would be fine.
It was mid morning and we had been in the air about twenty minutes. It had been mostly smooth, except for a few bumps---which was pretty good for March. We had circled the high school, flown over the coliseum, and were on our way north to the lake when he looked at me and said: "I don't feel too good." I immediately called approach control and told them we needed to return to Charlotte. They acknowledged and said to stand by. Then about ten Piedmont Airlines flights checked in on the frequency. I knew it was going to be a long time before we got our chance to land.
I opened all the air vents, turned the cabin heat down, and tried to be as smooth as possible. Then I started looking for the sick-sacs---glove box, seat back pockets, everywhere. No sick-sacs! I should have done a better preflight! "Lord; please don't let this guy puke all over the airplane!" The only thing in the airplane besides my Jepp book, and the checklist (that said nothing about sick-sacs) was a white plastic document briefcase that contained the aircraft log books and sales brochures. It had a fold-over top with a small brass latch, but it looked waterproof. It would have to do. I dumped the contents on the back seat, and handed the empty briefcase to my passenger. I told him there were no sick-sacs, and if he had to "heave" use the briefcase. He looked at me and said: "I'm not going to throw up, I've got to urinate!"
Did he ever! By the time he was finished the 11 x 14 inch briefcase was about one third full. I guess about three beer's worth! The expression on his face said: Now what do I do? He was looking at his side window. I could see the wheels turning. . . He was thinking about dumping it out! As he reached for the window latch I shouted out: "STOP!" "If you try to dump that out we'll both get drenched!" I had visions of urine mist blowing into the cabin as he tried to empty the briefcase in the 115 knot slipstream! I told him to just hold the case upright on the floor between his feet, and he could dump it out after we landed. So that's what he did. He even latched the fold-over top! I thought that was a nice touch.
We emptied the briefcase on the taxiway, abeam the old terminal building, on the west side of Runway 18 Left. After we parked, and the engine was shutdown, he told me he was sorry and embarrassed about what had happened. I told him not to worry about it. I also told him he could keep the briefcase!
I guess next time, you asked your passengers if they had been to the bathroom before taking flight???
ReplyDeleteMy sides hurt now from Joe letting me read this. I'm glad you have a blog now! --Kris B
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