Turks & Caicos Islands – October 2007 (Part Five; Hurricane Noel Arrives, We Depart)

DAY SEVEN:  Tuesday, 30 October 2007

The weather this morning wasn’t any better.  The good news was that Hurricane Noel had taken a southern route, so TCI wouldn’t be in the bulls-eye.  The eye had pounded the Dominican Republic and Haiti, and then would be moving on to Cuba before going into the Gulf of Mexico near the Florida Keys.  The result of that was the swirling pattern of the storm would continue to buffet the island chain, and points immediately northward (like the Bahamas, and Miami, the areas we had to fly over).  Like it or not, we’d still be affected by Hurricane Noel.

We had our last breakfast at Mango Reef, finished packing, and checked out.  It was overcast, but not rainy, when driving to the airport.  The nice thing about where we got the car from (Grace Bay Car Rentals) was they had told us just to park it at the airport, put the keys over the sun visor, and lock it up.  They would pick up the vehicle there, so we didn’t have to worry about any exit paperwork.  If there were any additional charges, they’d take care of that via phone and/or credit card.

Providenciales International Airport was crowded when we got there (two hours early, as you’re suppose to do before an international flight).  Not sure how many of these people had arrived today for their flight, and how many were still here form the night before.  As it was such a small airport, it was unlikely anyone had camped out here.

Part of the vacation planning Lee had done when she secured the airline tickets was gave us a nice long layover in Miami.  The idea was that it might take some time to go through Customs, and we didn’t want to be rushing.  Coming on an international flight and going to make a connecting domestic flight means you’d exit the international aircraft, pick up your luggage from baggage claim, go through Customs processing, and then have to re-check your luggage and go through security again to be able to get to your connecting domestic flight.  We had something like a three hour layover planned.  We originally thought we’d spend a bunch of time waiting in Miami, now we’d need that extra time to keep from missing our connecting flight.

The plane coming into Provo, which we’d be exiting on, was delayed by about forty minutes.  There wasn’t anything we could do but wait, and hope that the weather would cooperate enough to allow us to flight out.  If our departing flight was cancelled at the last minute, we’d have to see if Royal West Indies would welcome us back for another day (providing we could find one of the few-and-far-between taxis to get us there and back).  We learned that after pounding Cuba had taken, Noel then turned northward.  Instead going out over the Keys, it was heading up the eastern coast of Florida; right in the direction we were headed.  While it wasn’t project to make landfall until it was far north of Miami, it would still play havoc with any flights coming in and out of that destination.

Once our departing flight had arrived, and gotten ready for the return, it was time for us to board.  By then, it was raining pretty good now.  The tarmac we had walked those couple hundred feet a week ago in nice sunshine was now a gauntlet to run as quick as possible to keep from getting wet.  If people didn’t bottle-neck when on the getting on the plane, and making us stand on the entry stairs exposed to the elements, it probably would’ve worked well.  A soaking few minutes later, we were boarded, and not long after that, we were in the air.  This was not the farewell to Turks & Caicos that we’d hoped.  Bad weather at the end of the week and some cancelled events aside, it was a good week, and we had a great time.  We knew this was a place which we’d want to return to again at some point.

A flight from Providenciales to Miami in good weather is ninety minutes.  Once in flight, the captain let us know that he was going to swing more north than usually to skirt the worst of the storm, and that would add about another thirty minutes to the flight.  Our three hour layover which had previously been shrunk to just over two hours, was now shrunk again to an hour-and-a-half.  Ninety minutes to go through Customs, and make the connecting flight.  It would be tight, but still was doable.

We couldn’t see anything out the window out than grey clouds and rain, and the plane was constantly jolted by the winds.  I don’t think the flight attendants were charging anything for drinks on the flight.  We snuggled in the seat as much as we could, and kept focused on the good memories of the trip.  These situations we had to deal with here were beyond our control, so there was no reason to get upset about it.  “It is what it is,” Lee said, and we just didn’t get frustrated about the situation (unlike most everyone else on the plane).

Two hours later, we could see the lights over the city of Miami.  It wasn’t long past noontime, and the sky was almost as black as night.  Hurricane Noel had moved westward across almost at the same rate we did, so the weather here was now worse than what we’d left Provo in.  At least the flight would be over soon.  I don’t mind sitting in an airplane for long periods, I’m not claustrophobic by any means, but after a certain period of time I just want out of the fucking tin can.  The flaps of the wings were down, and we heard the landing gear lower.  Looking out the window, I could see us getting closer to the runaway.  I could tell it was down-pouring out, but didn’t care because we’d be off the plane soon.  I could gauge distance by looking at things on the ground get bigger as we descended.  As the runaway rolled under us, I figured we weren’t more than twenty feet above it.

The very next sensation was being pushed back into our seats, as the plane accelerated upward at far steeper than a forty-five degree angle.  It was a couple of tense minutes until we leveled out over the city.  The captain came over the intercom and announced the landed had to be aborted because they’d gotten a wind-sheer alert.  He said the plane would have to circle around to an alternate runway, so the flight would be a little longer.

A wind-sheer alert, explained to us later, was when a plane has a stronger crosswind across its side than what it’s flying through.  The force of the wind could hit the tailfin enough to tip one of the wings up.  When that happens, the side wind would catch the wing, and force the plane into a corkscrew.  Passenger airlines are not designed to execute barrel rolls, they’re not built for that.  Now if that happened up in the air, a plane would usually drop altitude quickly to get underneath it.  When coming in for a landing, you’re pretty much guaranteed to crash without any time to assume the position.

Because there were other inbound planes already in their landing corridors, we had to wait for an opening, so we were in the air for another half-hour or so.  Our ninety minute window had just shrunk again.  On this landing attempt, we were only a few hundred feet off the ground before another wind-sheer alert aborted this landing.  Once again we had to fly over (or around) Miami until a safe position opened again.  Another forty or so minutes went by before we could attempt the third landing.  Lee said we’d missed any reasonable chance of getting to our connecting flight now.  The comfort we had was because we’d miss our connection flight due to delay or our incoming flight (and not our incompetence off taking too long at the airport bar), the airlines had to rebook us on a flight to our destination at no charge to us.

Planes have a bit of extra fuel in case of delays, or if they have to shunt off to another airport.  We’d been in the air nearly twice as long as the flight was supposed to take.  Have no idea where the fuel gauge was, but I’m sure by now it was land in Miami because we couldn’t reach any reasonable location.  And because we were an international flight, I’m sure there was some regulation which kept us from going to Tampa or some other close-by place.

From the passenger window, it didn’t look like the weather had changed any as we came in for the third landing, but it must’ve been enough.  Once the landing gear touched the ground, and the braking process started, you could feel a slight fish-tail sensation as we slowed.  I think it was just more of the side wind buffeting the plane, than it getting ready for a complete spin-out.  The plane came to a stop, and everyone in the cabin began to clap and cheer.  The applause was not just for finally being on the ground, but to acknowledge the captain for succeeding at a difficult task.

And now the zoo began.  People are normally slow grabbing their belongings from the overhead bins, especially when there’s some anxious people behind them.  Now those slow people had a whole lot of anxious people behind them.  Lee and I stayed put in our seats.  We weren’t going to make our connecting flight, so there was no reason to rush.  Besides, any of those people trying to get through Customs to make their connecting flights still had to wait for their luggage to be regurgitated from baggage claim (which was never a quick process).

When the plane thinned out a little, we disembarked and walked along the corridors we needed to go.  It was a series long, narrow corridors, with a thick glass wall which separated you from the rest of the airport.  I think we had to go to the other side of the freakin’ airport.  Felt like a rat in a maze chugging along to find the exit.  Lee and I took our leisurely pace, as people ran full-tilt past us.  O.J. Simpson flying through the airport wouldn’t speed this process up.

Customs was an adventure in itself.  Think of the under-paid, over-worked government employees you deal with a Post Office, and you have some idea what a U.S. Customs Agent is like.  Now compound that with a normally high-stressed job of having to process people as quickly as possible, and that’s before a weather-relation situation which has caused major flight delays.

There were about twelve lines, and you waited until you were called.  At that point you presented your passport, and completed Customs Declaration Form (which had been given to each passenger group at the _beginning_ of the flight).  In addition to the usual gang of jack-holes who were trying to fill out the form once they were called to go through the check-point, and the people who paid no attention to signs vividly stating to have your identification ready, you had the morons complaining about how slow the whole process was going, and how they were going to miss their flights because of this.  Want to guarantee a slow line doesn’t move any quicker?  Complain loudly about it.  That just motivates the agents to move slower just to piss off the passengers.  It’s not like the agents have a flight to catch.

Because we’d filled out our forms ahead of time, we were ready when we were called, so going through Customs was easy.  We could tell our agent was stressed out, and were polite to him and mentioned we understood that they were overwhelmed.  We got a smile and a thank you before he gruffly called the next in line.  After that, we went through the security check-point, and headed towards the gate to our connecting flight.

Of course, when going through security, we saw the large number of people who’d neglected to pay attention to the signs to make sure any liquids which had previously been part of your carry-on bags to be placed in your checked baggage.  It’s always interesting to watch the large number of adults who plead ignorance to signs which are clearly posted, and ask the TSA agents to make an exception “just this one time.”  I think the TSA guys were keeping a tally.

We’d been re-booked on a flight which wasn’t due to leave Miami for another four or five hours.  That meant it’d be after dark when we got to Dallas, and potentially around midnight when we’d be back to Austin (providing there were no other delays).  Our gate was in a section of the airport which was being refurbished, so the air conditioning wasn’t working.  We headed back to another section to get food at one of the vendors.  There weren’t many choices, so we ended up with the pizza joint.  Bland taste, but filling.

Then back at our gate, Lee sat and read while I stretched out on the floor to get some sleep.  I needed to be coherent to be able to drive home from Dallas (which at that point Lee could sleep).  I woke up enough to board the flight, and quickly nodded off again (because the lights inside the cabin were turned out).  I was refreshed enough upon reaching Dallas , and Lee collapsed in the car.  Other than a stop for gas, the trip home was pretty uneventful.  It was after midnight when we got home, and we were thankful for building that extra day into the trip to recover before going back to work.

Aside from the things which got cancelled due to weather, the trip was extremely relaxing, and was exactly what Lee wanted for her birthday.  While I enjoyed swimming in the ocean and sitting on the beach, I think I would’ve liked to have explored the island a little bit more.  Lee says this was certainly a one-time visit, while I said I would like to return there on a regular basis.  Going back will be more interesting, because we’ll know what to expect next time.

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