"If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around, does it make any sound?"

Unexpected Gifts
by A.G. Lindsay

You know, it still almost seems sinful to be able to have company in the plane without having to pay them...

I took my first passenger on a flight a few of weeks after passing my checkride. The delay was because real pilots have to contend with real scheduling and weather which was not perfect. I knew, however, that the longer I put it off, the more nervous I would be.

I'm one of those people who didn't know many pilots before I started flying. Most of my friends (and nearly all of my family) still know nothing about flying small planes. A Dash-8 is a small plane to them.

When I told my family I was taking flying lessons, they greeted the news with about the same enthusiasm as if I had announced I have to have cataract surgery. They're still a bit nervous about it, but least they don't consider it in the same light as volunteering for medical research anymore. I'm just grateful that they have pretty much given up mailing me clippings about crashes at local airports.

When I first met my room-mate, Peggy, I was going through a particularly bad period of my life and was suffering from extremely low self-esteem. When I mentioned flying, Peg was the one who said, "Of course you can do it," as she handed me the Boston area yellow pages.

As my checkride date loomed closer and I was asked whom I would take up as my first passenger, Peggy sprang immediately to mind.

The only problem was that, although she had been unfailingly enthusiastic about my flying, she was quite a bit less than gung-ho about going up in a small plane herself... and I was a bit worried about that.

So, of course, I wanted to pick the Perfect Day.

I passed the checkride, and waited, but perfect days are hard to come by on the New England coast in the fall. Add to that my always terrible weather luck (which will probably improve the minute I start the flying part of my instrument training...)

Friday was gloomy with visibilities at Logan (BOS) ranging from 1/8 to 2 miles. Friday night was windy with a high wind advisory for the area.

...But Saturday. Ah, Saturday! It looked good. The leaves were supposed to be at their peak which is an important detail in New England in the Fall, but the winds were still a bit...er ...windy.

We got to the airport the ATIS was reporting winds of 10 knots, variable. Hmmm. I've flown in worse but not with a passenger who is not also a pilot. But then again, I hadn't flown with a passenger who wasn't also a pilot in any conditions.

During the ride to the airport, I pondered The Eternal Question of Newly Certificated Pilots: "What on earth do I do with a passenger?" My flight instruction was fairly thorough, but that particular thing had not been covered in any specific way.

My first idea was to have her do the walk around with me. "See, they're really not as fragile as you think!" The problem with this idea is that Peggy isn't really interested in the mechanics of flying. In fact, the only reason she was going up at all was because I was the pilot.

When we got to the FBO, the owner of the flight school joked "Ah, your first victim?"as we walked through the door. Obviously a guy who knows how to make non-pilots feel at ease from the first...

Peg had also mentioned on more than one occasion that she would be nervous in any plane, even a 747 with an ATP who had 40 bazillion hours. She probably thought that would cheer me up!

I preflighted the plane, and gave her a brief talk about the seatbelts, radios and a little about what to expect. I tried to stress only the positive, reassuring things. Before I started the plane, I told her that if she felt too nervous and wanted to go back at any time, she should tell me and I would.

I tried to make clear to her what I was doing so it wouldn't be too frightening; and I tried to keep it as simple as possible because she wasn't there to be persuaded to become a pilot or to learn how to fly. She was simply there to enjoy a scenic flight.

After taxi, clearance and take-off, we were on our Adventure. I have to capitalize that because it was a bit gustier than I'd have liked. At 2000 ft, though, it wasn't too bad. We flew around Gloucester and Rockport, and checked out the beaches near Ipswich and Plum Island. It was really a lovely day. This flying-with-passengers thing might not be too bad after all.

After about an hour of just enjoying the weather and the New England autumn by the coast, we returned to Beverly. I was not particularly enthusiastic about what I heard on the ATIS. I mentioned to Peggy that, while I had flown in gustier conditions, not to expect poetry for a landing.

It wasn't. Nor was it a particularly bad landing. I didn't bounce or break anything. She didn't turn green because I had to slip i t all the way to the ground and land on one wheel due to the crosswinds. In retrospect, telling Peg the things I was going to do before doing them and letting her know what to expect before it occurred was a really good idea.

Later, Peggy mentioned that the only really scary part of the trip was the car that cut us off getting on to the rotary from Route 1 on our way to lunch afterwards. Missed us by two inches!

But, the nicest thing, she said, was the light. Suriya, she called it. It was beautiful in the sky because of the light. I don't recall specifically thinking about that before, but it doesn't surprise me. It reminded me of the thoughts I had on my way home from the checkride: "I don't remember being able to see the coast from over Lawrence..."

So, while she may never desire to be a pilot in her own right, I feel reasonably sure I can lure her into the sky in a small plane again. Best of all, it was such a treat to be able to share flying with the one person who knew beforehand that I could do it.

Addendum: My friend, Peggy Wilson, fellow artist and subject of this essay suffered a stroke which was caused by Ovarian Cancer. I maintain a page with more information on her situation No, I haven't taken her up again.

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