Peace and Panic – Somewhere over the Caribbean – [05/13/2017]

I had thought that I’d seen some of the most odd contract experiences; but this is the first time I’ve left a ship half way through a contract to go somewhere else and come back. Welcome to the semi-annual workshop conference, which is held in Seattle and calls all of us in from the fleet and from land for a week; so that we can hang out with each other and learn a whole bunch of new classes and basically return to our ongoing contracts with all new information.

Yes, I’m actually going on a real business trip

Whoa…I must be a grown up.

I’m not the only crew member disembarking here, there’s a girl from the Front Office staff who is going home today as well, and we actually share the same flights, so for the first leg of the journey I have a traveling companion. We did get separated however, more on that later…

But before I can get there, I have to tackle the fear I can’t always seem to beat. I’ll have to fly. Three flights to be exact; the main two being four hours each as I hop diligently from the east coast to the west coast. Before I can even set foot on a jumbo jet however, it is a little twin otter plane that takes me from Grand Turk to the main island so I can board the jumbo jet in question.

The little prop plane vibrates as if it’s trying to shake itself apart from the moment we take off, but oddly I feel much more at ease on this plane than I do on any of its much larger siblings. Perhaps it’s because the view outside is so breathtaking (the Caribbean from above is like nothing you’ve ever seen), or perhaps it’s because with a plane this small I am sitting directly behind the cockpit.

I can watch them fly the plane!

Not that I can make any sense of it f course, it’s all just da dizzying away of dials and numbers, but there is something extremely reassuring about being able to see the people who are keeping us in the air. For the first time I understand a bit about why my parents do not fear flying. They used to be pilots, they used to be pilots, they know how the plane works. I suppose that really does make all the difference.

The water underneath us is a milky blue-green; it looks like some kind of snow, or melted ice cream. The outline of a coral reef lies just under the surface, looking like a dragon or a sea serpent that might wake at any moment and shake the dust of the sea bed off its giant scales, or perhaps not wake at all until the end of time– whichever comes first.

I have to say this is the first plane trip I have genuinely enjoyed in a long time. I wish they could all be this way.

Alas, if a twin-engine otter plane was destined to bring me peace of mind, the next leg was about to shatter it for me.

After the debacle of getting to my Middle Eastern contract last year, I honestly thought I had seen the worst airport I would ever encounter. I mean what could possibly be worse than Qatar?

Let that be a lesson to me: never challenge the universe.

The airport in the main island is a single room for international departures. Thousands of people in a seething confused mass, nowhere to stand let alone somewhere to sit. No proper signage, a barely understandable PA system, and no one willing to openly give directions. Those who know me well – or even not so well – know that I panic terribly easily in crowds. This? This was my idea of a nightmare.

When we finally boarded, I found myself bracketed, screaming children behind me and an overly curious toddler in front of me. Thankfully there’s an empty seat next to me. It was supposed to be two – as I very carefully booked an empty row – but a fellow decided to “take advantage of the empty aisle seat” which is a little irritating, but which I can’t blame him for as I would probably do the same thing. The important thing is that I have the middle seat next to me empty, so I have some breathing room, if I didn’t have that, I would go mad…

I finally locate the in-seat power (buried beneath the seat and almost impossible to get to), plug in my laptop, and jam my headphones in deep. Grateful that I have a good music library loaded, and a few movies…

I…loathe flying.

If the Goddess had meant for us to fly, she would have given us wings. Being as how S/he didn’t, I am compelled to believe that we are supposed to remain on the ground. Or perhaps that’s just me…because flying fills me with a claustrophobic type of terror that is very difficult to get around and seems to be getting worse. Few people understand that it’s not fear of crashing, it’s pure panic of too many people, too much noise and too little space, and not being able to get out…

I’m a gypsy…not a bird…give me a wagon caravan across the country any day! Or a train, can’t I please just take the train???