Tuesday 02 December
2008, San José, Costa
Rica
Dollar Exchange
Stabilizes
Limón
Port Major Bottleneck To
The Country’s Growth
Singapore, Costa Rica To
Start Talks On Free
Trade Agreement
Desert Sun Editor Shares
Own Tale of Airplane
Woes
Colombian DMG With
Possible Ties To Costa
Rica
Aguinaldo Hits The
Streets!
|
Desert Sun Editor Shares
Own Tale of Airplane
Woes
Brian Dearth
I didn't plan to end my
vacation to Costa Rica
trapped inside a plane
at the Ontario airport
for nine hours, but
that's what happened.
Nope, that's not a typo.
Nine. 9. Nueve.
Five hours after leaving
the main airport in El
Salvador about 6 p.m.
Pacific time, the
captain of Taca Airlines
flight 670 notified us
that Los Angeles
International was fogged
in and after circling it
for about 30 minutes, we
were diverted to
Ontario, landing just
before midnight.
The captain announced —
first in Spanish, then
in English — that we
couldn't go to LAX due
to weather, but we
couldn't leave the plane
either. Since the flight
was international, all
passengers had to clear
customs. But Ontario had
no customs facilities or
personnel, so legally,
we could not enter the
airport.
At this point, I fell
asleep in my seat and
woke up around 4 a.m.
The mood of the
passengers had turned
ugly. A woman was
yelling at the flight
attendants at the front
of the plane, near the
door. I feared there was
going to be violence.
An airport firefighter
came on board to check
on a passenger with a
minor medical issue and
distributed bottled
water and the best
Cheese Nips I've ever
eaten. The food seemed
to diffuse the tension.
Shift's over
This also was about the
time the captain
announced that he and
his crew had reached the
maximum shift time — 14
hours — and were
obligated to take an
8-hour break before
flying again.
At this point, I had
been in seat 12E for
nine hour. I couldn't
fathom another eight.
There was no water in
the bathrooms, and the
facilities were filthy.
The tension rose again,
although all passengers
kept their emotions in
check.
By this time, our
muscles were aching and
our minds wondered why
we couldn't at least go
to a contained area in
the terminal so we could
stretch out. A woman
sitting a couple rows
away refused a second
bottle of water, telling
a flight attendant, “We
don't want water; we
want to get off this
plane. We're being held
hostage.”
At around 6 a.m., we
received news that the
airline had located
another full crew, and
they were being bused to
Ontario from LAX.
When they arrived at
7:30 a.m., the captain
received an ovation when
he announced, “The new
crew is here.”
Unfortunately, we were
then told the weather
had not improved at LAX,
and we still could not
leave Ontario. A
passenger called his
brother who works for
American Airlines at LAX
and found out planes had
been landing for a
couple of hours, at
least. We began to
wonder what was true.
We stopped caring when
about 9 a.m., we pushed
out onto the runway for
the 15-minute hop to
LAX.
After getting our
luggage and clearing
customs, several L.A.
media outlets were there
to greet us. My wife,
Deborah, and I skipped
past them — we wanted
out of the airport as
quickly as possible.
We later read Web
reports that said the
airline said they were
denied permission by
U.S. Customs to offload
us in Ontario, while
Customs claimed the
airline never asked for
permission. I doubt
we'll ever get the real
story, but I heard a
flight attendant asking
an airport policeman
fairly early on —
probably around 2 a.m. —
if we could go inside
and the answer was no.
Believe it or not, that
was the second flight we
took in less than 24
hours that was greeted
by the news media.
The wall
On Sunday, Deborah and I
left the tiny airport
near La Fortuna in Costa
Rica in a 12-seat
puddle-jumper. All seats
were full with fellow
American tourists, plus
two captains. Deborah
and I were in the front
two passenger seats and
could look directly into
the cockpit three feet
in front of us as there
was no door.
The airport — Tobías
Bolaños Airport near San
Juan — was soggy and the
runway was slick. I felt
us hit the ground and
bounce, which didn't
cause alarm because of
the plane's small size.
But then I looked out
the window and saw
grass, not tarmac. The
plane rattled as we
skidded across a field,
and I heard someone
yell, “Wall!”
I looked out the window
to the left and saw a
gray brick wall looming
and then felt the plane
lurch, then come to a
stop. The pilot had
jammed on the brakes,
leaving only a few feet
between the plane's nose
and the wall. I looked
back into the cockpit
and saw the pilot's
chest heaving, and the
look on his face told me
it was a close one.
No one was injured, and
another couple was
contemplating whether to
skip the last half of
their trip since they
had to fly in a similar
plane to their next
destination. I told them
they shouldn't worry as
lightning (or bad luck)
doesn't strike twice.
Little did we know. ... |
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