Студопедия
Случайная страница | ТОМ-1 | ТОМ-2 | ТОМ-3
АрхитектураБиологияГеографияДругоеИностранные языки
ИнформатикаИсторияКультураЛитератураМатематика
МедицинаМеханикаОбразованиеОхрана трудаПедагогика
ПолитикаПравоПрограммированиеПсихологияРелигия
СоциологияСпортСтроительствоФизикаФилософия
ФинансыХимияЭкологияЭкономикаЭлектроника

Turbulence

NEW YORK CITY GLAMOUR | MAINE MISHAP | ENGLISH GHOSTS | IRISH FLIGHTS | OKTOBERFEST IN MUNICH | TRAGEDY IN THE AIR | HONG KONG | JAPANESE BLOSSOMS AND EROTIC ART | SOUP SURPRISE | DINNER DISASTER |


 

Turbulence is often unexpected. It can occur in clear weather, and radar can’t detect it. It’s the leading cause of injury for both passengers and crew. Many passengers are injured on flights because they don’t have their seatbelts buckled.

Almost all flights experience some light turbulence. Passengers might strain against their seat belts. Unsecured items might fall to the floor. It’s so common that most people just hang on to their trays or continue reading. The flight attendants can easily walk the aisles, and the captain may or may not illuminate the “fasten seat belt” sign.

During moderate turbulence the captain instructs the flight attendants to return to their seats. Meal services are suspended and the galley is locked down. At this point, drinks and food can easily spill. Walking is difficult. The cabin crew, however, still checks that seatbelts have been fastened.

Severe turbulence usually happens when flying through thunderclouds. No one is allowed to leave their seats and flight attendants are instructed to stay buckled. On one of my flights, while Susan and I were fastened in the rear jump seats, deafening noise from the shaking plane overwhelmed us.

A passenger panicked and rang his call button. I saw the light brighten and awkwardly left my seat and walked up the aisle.

“What’s wrong?” I asked when I reached the illuminated light.

“I think I’m having a heart attack,” the elderly man said as he rubbed his chest.

“Give me a moment,” I said, clutching the armrest with one hand and loosening his tie with the other. “I’ll be right back.”

As I returned to the rear I gripped passenger seat tops, trying to keep my balance. The nearest oxygen bottle was in the overhead rack by the aft galley.

“Throw me some wet towels,” I yelled to Rike.

“You shouldn’t be standing,” she scolded.

I kicked off my shoe, stepped up onto a seat, and unstrapped the oxygen bottle. Clutching the heavy weight against my body, I let go of the overhead frame to step down. At that instant the plane pitched down and plummeted at least a hundred feet. For a second or so I floated, suspended in air.

If I hadn’t had the heavy bottle clutched to my chest, I would have cracked my head against the cabin ceiling. I toppled to the floor, regained my composure, and caught the towels Rike threw. With a struggle I returned to the ailing passenger.

I placed a mask over his nose and mouth as I sat tightly buckled in the seat alongside. Patting his forehead with damp towels, I said, “We’ll be out of this shortly. Don’t worry.” Before long he calmed down, and so did our plane.

Administering oxygen was quite common in those early years of jet travel. First-time passengers often suffered anxiety attacks. During the severe turbulence on this particular flight, we were lucky to have only one passenger needing oxygen.

The fourth level of turbulence is called “extreme.” In eight years of international travel I never flew in extreme turbulence. It’s exceptionally rare. It’s like flying through a tornado.

On the most turbulent flight I ever experienced, strong winds hit us before we had even left Oakland. After the gate agent shut the door, the Boeing started to shake and rocked sideways as a tractor pushed the jet away from the terminal toward the taxiway.

Our passengers were a group of revelers intent on having a week on the sunny shores of Waikiki. The flight attendants started a liquor service as soon as we reached cruising altitude. With drinks and snacks on trays, the plane continued to shudder.

“Fasten your seat belts and keep them tight,” the captain announced over the PA system. “Flight attendants. Secure the galley and stay seated until I tell you otherwise.”

In the tossing plane, Leigh and I quickly checked the passengers for seatbelt compliance. Susan slammed and locked galley cabinet doors and stashed supplies. We returned to our seats and pulled our belts tight.

For the next four hours the infamous Hawaiian trade winds battered our plane. Susan and I were thrown about like sock puppets against our seat straps. We fell to the right, and seconds late were hurled to the left.

The pitching became so erratic there was no chance to read. Words on a page bounced all over. We just had to sit with our backs to the aft wall and watch the passengers lurch from side to side in front of us. To kill time, we forced ourselves to talk.

“My teeth are chattering,” I said.

“I feel sick,” Susan responded.

“My ears popped,” I countered.

Gravity tore at every loose item. Pillows and blankets flew from the overhead racks. Books and magazines were tossed to the ceiling and then fell to the floor. Periodically we were in a state of weightlessness. The trashed cabin looked like a jungle of junk.

The brutal pitches continued for the next few hours. For the first time in my airline career I feared for our plane’s ability to fly. As the wind cruelly chucked our plane, cold chills rolled down my back.

“Please, Lord,” I prayed. “Don’t let us crash.”

The 707 rammed into a massive column of rising air. The trembling plane was flung upwards, and then suddenly dropped a couple hundred feet. Though belted into our seats, our bodies slammed backwards with every violent vibration, and people screamed whenever we experienced an exceptionally strong jolt.

As the winds thundered against the sides of the jet, we heard the sounds of retching and worried about a chain reaction. And sure enough, everyone began throwing up. Vomit smell clouded the rear of the plane and a wave of nausea rolled through my stomach. It took all my willpower not to follow suit.

Four hours later, when we approached Honolulu, the worst of the terror was over. It looked like a twister had touched down in the cabin. Anything not locked or attached was thrown about: shoes, purses, books, pillows, hats, and magazines.

The plane landed smoothly, and the passengers clapped and cheered. After they had gathered their belongings, they wobbled toward the exit. We followed them, shaking our heads in amazement at the mess in the cabin. Thank goodness we had a few days to rest before working another flight back to the States.


Дата добавления: 2015-08-27; просмотров: 30 | Нарушение авторских прав


<== предыдущая страница | следующая страница ==>
HAWAIIAN SHERBET SHOCKER| MY BABY’S NOT BREATHING!

mybiblioteka.su - 2015-2024 год. (0.006 сек.)