And, Cut.

The original plan was to dive the cenotes with a friend in Tulum. However that didn’t work out. I will save that adventure for another day. After a couple reef dives in Cozumel, I was left with the odd sensation that in fact, this mission is over. Collin made it to Costa Rica, and the red sled made it there as well, and back. Along the way we met characters that could have come out of a Joseph Heller novel, and made new friends. And of course, the original adventure of flying my own plane all around Central America was realized. But now, sitting here in Cozumel in a very nice empty resort hotel, I am getting antsy. There is nothing left here for me to do, now that the dive trip is off. Monday morning I said goodbye to my dive friend and contemplated returning home. The original plan was to wait until Tuesday to fly back to the US, but weather made it likely that I would have to wait til Thursday. I then checked the TAF for Miami and Savannah, my point of entry and destination point, respectively, for my return trip home, and wouldn’t ya know, all looked good for today. So, on monday at 1130 local time and in spite of having already paid for another nite at the nice empty hotel, I made the very quick decision to get out of town, and return to the US.

Cozumel

Now I had something to do. File eAPIS, pack, check out, return car, file, wheels up. The same guy was working flight ops when I first arrived in Cozumel. A really helpful and knowledgeable guy. He said my Spanish was much better. He also asked where my friend was? I smiled and told him that he is smarter than me; he stayed in Costa Rica. After I got my requisite four stamps, and said adios, the guy said, Yes, your friend is smarter than you. I laughed, and told him I will be back one day.

I chose Tamiami because I figured the Customs office is quieter there, and because gas is supposedly cheap. There was a little mixup when I called Tamiami from Cozumel to let them know of my arrival, as they had not received my APIS manifest. Furthermore, they told me, the office closes at 6PM local time and they cannot process anyone after 540PM. I was pushing it. My flight planner said 3.6 hours to Tamiami, via Vinka and Maxim, plus a one hour time change, and it was close to 1PM already. Plane was fueled, plan filed, I told Tamiami Customs I will get there as soon as I can, and hustled out of there wheels up 105 PM. In 90 minutes I went from sitting in my hotel room wondering what to do next, to taking off for Florida.

The flight was fast and uneventful. I figure I had a 15 knot tailwind. Ground speeds were close to 160 knots. Even better, ATC routed me direct Maxim from Cozumel, which took me very close to Cuba; a more direct route. Again, flight control was seamless, and I was passed along from Cozumel control to Merida to Habana to Key West. I find it interesting that in spite of the rhetoric between the US and Cuban governments, it is business as usual for the aviation and pilot communities. There must have been two dozen commercial aircraft talking to Habana within my flight window alone. I was then routed by US ATC via Key West and then direct KTMB. I landed KTMB at 520PM, a good 25 minutes early. Nice. Customs was empty and waiting for me. Total flight time, 3 hours, 15 minutes.

 

Gulf of Mexico from 11,000

Flight track. Some of you guys know where i am in real time!

PILOTS: IT IS A MYTH that you have to hit your time of entry at a Customs entry point to within 15 minutes. I talked to the guys at Tamiami and they’re so cool, and they’re like, just call us and as long as you get here when we are open, it is no problem. Do you mind if it’s earlier or later by a few hours, I ask? Nope, they said, as long as we are open. I have no idea where AOPA gets the notion that you have to be within a 15 minute window. I even read a comment form some pilot who purposefully slows down so that he hits his time of arrival exactly! Are you kidding me?? I was pedal to the metal all the way and couldn’t wait to get there as soon as possible. Anyway, this is straight from US CUSTOMS: “Tell your pilot friends.” You do NOT have to hit your entry time. They just want to know you are coming and that your APIS is on file. Just show up during normal business hours.

Customs at Tamiami was empty, fast, and the people very professional and cool. Total time, maybe 10 minutes. I was pretty excited when I got there; my adrenalin was still pumping after having made my first successful solo flight from Cozumel to Miami in a single engine. Not too many people can say they've done that. I told the guy, this was my first time flying there and back, and he asks me if I will do it again, now that I’ve done it once, and I said, Definitely. Afterwards I taxied over to Silver Star something FBO for fuel as I read fuel was cheap there, $4.9 a gallon. But I ended up paying over $6. RIPOFF! I will call them today about it. I was so preoccupied with filing to Savannah I didn’t bother to do the math til later. Anyway, I filed IFR to Savannah, KSAV, where I would spend the nite at a friend’s place and weather out the storm that is supposed to be hitting the northeast. And 50 degrees is better than 15 degrees.

The flight to Savannah was just under 3 hours. Another fast trip with ground speeds averaging 147 knots or so. Not sure why; there seemed to be not much wind component, according to XM weather. I don’t think that XM winds are all that accurate. Anyway in spite of a couple PIREPS for light rime ice along the border of Georgia/Florida, the flight was uneventful. I was in IMC for maybe half the time but temperatures at 9000 were comfortably above freezing. Over savannah, we had overcast at 7000 but not thick. I was cleared #1 for landing 12 miles out, and behind me was a King Air and a C-130(!) so Approach asked me for ‘best speed to final’, to which I obliged; 175 knots ground speed upon descent, and no delay in getting on the ground.

That's a wrap

I will stay in Savannah until the front passes; hopefully tomorrow I will be able to make it to Winchester, to return the life raft to Tom and maybe change the oil. By the time I get back to NY I will have logged close to 40 hours and covered close to 5000 nautical miles in a little under three weeks. Collin and I have flown in and out of five countries, and then I flew solo from Costa Rica to Managua to Cozumel to Miami to Savannah, all within 5 days. Encountered ice, mountains, turbulence, super short runways and mythical runways. Until last nite, no mechanical problems were encountered. I look back and the first part of the trip, to Roatan, seems like a distant memory already. It is almost surreal; I read this blog and think, was that me who actually was there, did all that?? I know it will be some days before I get over the letdown of  being back in real life after such a grand adventure. I know I was in a rush to leave Cozumel, but now that I have, I wonder whether I couldn’t have roughed it for a few more days in 85 degree weather.

Sure I could have. But all good things must come to an end, else they stop being good. It was time for me to go home. And when you have a red sled waiting to take you to wherever you want to go, why wait?

So for all of you thinking about flying your plane to Central America, I say, Why wait? For me, I am sure there will be another trip in the not too distant future. Perhaps South America. Maybe Africa. Maybe around the world…who knows.

RoamingAviator@gmail.com

Welcome back

Managua is the most expensive airport that I flew in to/out of. Yes they gave me rockstar parking but I ended up paying $60 for an overnite stay. Ripoff. Then, the next day, while I got to the airport at 915, it took hours to get out. And I had done it before. I needed to top up my fuel tanks as I was going over water and the flight time was 4 hours. I did not want to take the chance that I had enough fuel to make the trip, even though I was pretty sure I could make it on what I had. It took almost two hours to get fuel.  First they said they would meet me by the plane. So I waited by the plane for twenty minutes (this after I had submitted my flight plan and was ready to go). Well that didn’t work. So I flagged down a fuel truck and they called someone. Then they found out I wasn’t a turbine so I couldn’t use jet fuel. Oh, they said. Of course I had told this to them an hour ago. Then in 10 more minutes the head of the FBO came out with a linesman. Then you have to taxi to the aero club, on the opposite end of the airport, and the pumps are locked up as tight as a frog’s butt, so you have to bring a linesman with you. Then when you get there (off taxiway Delta) there are soldiers there with big guns, and you have to sign stuff and go through ANOTHER ID check. Then you need 5 minutes just to unlock all the locks. Then you need to place the fire extinguishers in case of fire. Then the guy fuels your plane. Then, when you are all done, you need to taxi back to the terminal, and walk to the FBO to pay for the gas. This takes another 20 minutes.  Oh yeah and the price of fuel is $6.50 per gallon.

refueling at Liberia

terminal parking, MNMG

After all that I was ready to grab my clearance. I called the tower and then they said they had not received my IFR flight plan. I told them to call flight ops, I had submitted it 2 hours ago. Then they found it, sorta. I say sorta because I had the entire route spelled out on the flight plan, from Managua to Cozumel. However the clearance was to the first intersection only. Whatever. Get me out of here. I took off and climbed to 11,000 feet, direct Bertha.

in the soup again

mountains at 11,000 on the coast of Honduras

The flight was long and pretty much uneventful, except over Honduras, when they diverted me around some active military airspace. Then it was straight to the Honduras coastline. The friggin mountains are huge there; at least 10,000 feet. Then, over water for a little over two hours. I figured I was about 100 miles offshore at the farthest point. It was an uneventful, but slightly unnerving, flight. To be 100 miles off the coast by yourself in a single engine plane provokes a certain level of attention. But I was tired too; I had not slept well for a few nites. Nodding off at 11,000 over the water is not a good idea. I was singing to myself, eating chocolate bars, playing with the GPS, whatever to keep me focused. Finally I was talking to Cozumel and 20 minutes out I began my descent. Cleared to land runway 11. Cozumel however has two runways. You would think I’d remember this fact from the first time; but my approach was different and the runways were not clearly marked. No excuse; I began my approach to the wrong runway and even though it didn’t look right, didn’t feel right, I kept going. I was maybe 500 feet above and ready to set down when the tower told me to go around and land on 11. Yeah yeah, you would think I would notice the runway was not 11 based on my compass/DG, but the crosswind was strong enough so that it was reading close to 11. And the runway was not marked (neither one). So here’s a tip; Cozumel has one, and only one, runway for us. Don’t land on the other one. When I landed there were a few extra dudes with guns and the operations officer was there and asked me why I was going to land on the wrong runway. I told him that I simply screwed up, that my GPS showed two runways and I thought 11 was the one on the left. Then he told me the runway I almost landed on was military, and had I landed there it would have been a big problem. I apologized and told him I felt really embarrassed I made such a mistake. I still am embarrassed.  But now,maybe you won’t make the same mistake.

There were a few N registered planes at Cozumel (two), one was a Cirrus turbo and one a twin. They remembered me; i was greeted at the airplane by customs who said, "Welcome back, Senor".

So now I am in Cozumel. I have been here for two days. I am wondering now, however, whether the stop in Cozumel is a mistake. But that's a different story. Maybe it is time for me to head home.

And I would, if it were not for the fact that it is like ten degrees in New York.

oops

Made it to Cozumel. Almost landed on the military runway. Tower told me to go around. Oops.

More later

onward

6AM, didn’t sleep much (the beer likely didn’t help), woke up maybe around 3 or 4. I guess I am preoccupied with flight planning to Cozumel. WX looks good here and there. I’m gonna eat bkfst and head to the airport. BTW I am staying at this great little hostel called San Angel, a stone’s throw from the central park in Granada, for $12. I love this town. I figure wheels up by 10, MMCZ by 2. I’m in no rush. I will be cruising at 11,000. I’ll be MNMG-TNT-LCE-direct. Half of the 4 hour flight is over water. But it’s warm water.

Very happy I bought a Microwave Monolithics PLB (406MHz of course). This thing is completely reliable. The units are completely burned in and the electronics are far superior to other units on the market. The company actually designs very sophisticated electronics for other applications (can’t talk about that) and this unit is a result of their leadership in the miniaturization of such. These are the smallest units on the market. They are waterproof but they will sink and of course you have to keep the antenna out of the water. I got the one with a GPS chip in it, so SAR can pinpoint my location to within ten feet. It’s the only small unit certified by COSPAS/SARSAT to work at -20C for 48 hours after sitting around doing nothing for 5 years; I doubt I can say the same thing about myself. It is the same unit that girl used who tried to sail around the world (Abby?). And I trust the inventor. He happens to be my uncle. Check it out:

http://www.micro-mono.com/microplb.html

I can probably get a discount for any aviator/friend.

OK more later. Don’t worry, no news is good news.

Last Stop: Quepos

We stayed at a fabulous place for two nites, in Santa Teresa: Calocita. A cool German dude runs the place, named Chris. Tell him John and Collin the pilots referred you. His rooms are German clean and secure, bathrooms are 3 star hotel nice (maybe even 4 star), for $35 a nite. Deal. 

After a morning surf session (Collin only; I didn’t go out) we ate breakfast and planned our next, and last, leg together. I left it to Collin as to where he wanted to be dropped off. He chose Quepos, on the Pacific coast, about 70 miles south of Tambor, where we flew in the other day. We grabbed a cab to Tambor around noon and got there just before one. As we rounded the corner to the airstrip, my heart started to pound. Did I really leave the Red Sled for two nites, all alone on a tarmac in the middle of nowhere?? What was I thinking? This is Central America! Chris thought I was nuts. But he’s German. Nevertheless it got me worried. What if someone broke into the plane? Took my life raft (a cool grand)? Stole my tires? Broke something? Broke anything? But all fears were laid to rest when we got to the airstrip. It was a hub of activity, with one Cessna Caravan on the ground and another flying in. The red sled was just as I had left it. In fact I believe the airstrip may have 24 hour security.

We preflighted. All looked good. Since we couldn’t get hold of Coco Control from the ground, we would have to call them from the air to file a VFR flight plan to Quepos. As we taxied to the end of the runway, which was 20 feet from where we parked the plane, Collin called for Tambor traffic and we learned another Caravan was on final. We waited two minutes, they landed, and we took off. Climbed to 5500 feet, direct Quepos.

15 miles out we started talking to traffic; there was one plane in the pattern and another behind us. Two miles out, and we couldn’t see the airstrip. I knew where it was on the GPS but still we could not see it. It was well hidden among the trees. Not until I was on final did we see it, and we were almost over it. So I went around. All for the better, since another plane was following us in, and it was faster than us. While we were messing around in the pattern we heard other chatter in spanish, saying something about "Americanos" and "Mooney" and "tienes que hablar ingles!" Clearly they were amused we were flying around their local airport. After the go-around I greased the landing and pulled up next to a Cessna 172. The airstrip was going off; planes waiting in line to take off, planes landing, quite busy for a single strip. I parked my plane adjacent to the Cessna and locked it up for the nite. The pilot of the Cessna, Alex, gave us some information regarding the area and flying in Costa Rica.

As we exited the airport, I was going to hail a cab but an (obvious) American was dropping off a couple guys, and as they got back in their truck, I asked them if they were headed to town. They offered us a ride. Turned out Kevin, the driver, lived in N Dakota most of the year but also has a place in Costa Rica. He’s in the real estate business and has, or has access to, a Pilatus and a jet. Sheesh. I asked him if they took the Pilatus down here. His response.: “Hell no. You guys ever heard of commercial?”

Tonight is the last nite Collin and I will hang out together. Today was the last flight I will have him in the right seat. Tomorrow I will depart Quepos for Liberia, clear outbound customs, top up my fuel tanks, and continue to Managua, where I will spend the nite. I think both Collin and I are feeling a little anxious about our respective next chapters. He will stay in Costa Rica, and I will start heading back north. It’s going to be a lonely ride without my co pilot. My plan is to head to Managua tomorrow, and then to Cozumel the following day. I will then stay on the Yucatan for a few days and dive some cenotes with a friend. Collin’s plan is to head for Domenecal tomorrow, and then to see what happens.

View from our room at the Coco beach Hotel

Tomorrow is today. This morning, both Collin and I woke up at 7. The nite before, around midnite, clouds had begun to fomr, big towering cumulus ones. When I woke up around dawn, there were still clouds, but an hour later I could see daylight through my eyelids. "Sun", I said, still in bed eyes closed. "Nah, that's lightning", says Collin. I mumbled some expletive then rolled over. The sky would begin to clear and by 8 all looked good. Relief. We had breakfast, I checked the weather, then we grabbed an illegal cab (pirata) to Quepos town and then to the airport for $10. I dropped Collin off at the bus station where he would take a bud to Domenecal. I then headed to the airport, solo.

Alex was there, working on his cessna. He was installing a downward facing camera. He flies for UNESCO and the Nature Conservancy. Great guy, very funny. Originally from Italy, he's been in CR for 9 years, flying around. We talked some, then a couple other planes flew in (Nature Air I think). Alex knew those pilots too so we talked some more. Pilots can talk all day though, just stand around and BS, so I figured I better just get going. I preflighted, took off, and filed VFR enroute to Liberia. About 15 minutes into the flight i heard Alex on the radio. Before I switched frequencies he called me up and wished me a safe flight. It was touching. Pilots make a tight community.

I was alone in the red sled, climbing to 10,000 feet. It was weird not having Collin in the right seat, and for a second I thought,  "What the hell am I doing flying by myself over the mountains of Costa Rica?" But only for a flash. I am comfortable flying solo; almost all of my 400 hours of crosscountry time is solo.The flight was smooth and uneventful.

The best deal in Costa Rica

 I landed at Liberia in Costa Rica and went through the process of exiting the country. First stop: Administration office, where I entered and a new guy was there. I told him what was up and he said, "you have to pay a departure fee." Of course I do, I thought. I always pay a departure fee. I knew it was too good to be true; upon arrival CR administration charged me only $5. "No problema", said I. He began to work with his computer on the form. I don't know what kind of computer it was; maybe a 386? It took like 5 minutes for him to fill out this form and print it out. "Cuantos dolares?" I held my breath. "Dos." Pause. "Dos?". Smile. "Si, dos". Deal! Then he asked me if i had a general declaration form, to which I said no, so he gave me one. Then he said, "One dollar." I figured he wanted a buck for the form so I took a buck out and gave it to him. "No, one dollar", he said, and gave me back one of the two bucks I gave him for the departure fee! It was a whole $1 to leave the country. Unbelievable. By far, the deal of the entire trip. CR may not be cheap but to fly in and out of it is basically free. After passing through immigration (you do not have to go through customs, so I was told; weird but true in my case at least.), to whom I submitted my general declaration, I bypassed all the security lines in front of all the commercial passengers ("perdonne, piloto"), and walked to the tower to submit my flight plan. The guy there was a real character. I cannot remember his name but he was a riot, very latin american, funny, but a terrible flight planner. He erroneously told me Managua was north-northeast of us, when I knew it was north-northwest. Nevertheless I figured he knew something I did not (yeah I know, like how to read a map) so I put down 11,000 feet for my IFR flight plan. I figured it should be 12,000 (I ended up at 10,000 when ATC asked if i wanted 11 or 10). Then he called for the gas truck to meet me at my plane, which was really courteous, but again, I thought, hmm, that's not how Collin did it last time. I specifically asked if I could pay at the plane and he assured me, Si. I thanked him, and went to my plane. There I waited for maybe 10 minutes before a guy in a golf cart came over and said i had to pay for the fuel first. Which is exactly what Collin did the other day. I told him the guy in the tower said I could pay at the plane, and the guy says, "yeah, he doesn't know." Anyway I prepaid for 80 liters ($120) and rode back out to the plane with the fuel truck. It took exactly 80 liters and was completely full. I guess I know my plane's rate of fuel burn (or more likely it was total luck). The gas truck guy was impressed. I got in, preflighted, and at exactly 1245PM I called up the tower to pick up my clearance to Managua. They asked me to wait for a commercial jet to land, then they asked me to backtaxi far enough so a twin otter could take off before me, then finally it was my turn. On turnout, climbing, the tower thanked me for my help, and said, "See you next time." They remembered the red sled. It made me feel pretty good, for some reason. Makes me want to come back. The flight to Managua was very pleasant, uneventful, though I was in the soup for maybe half the time. I'm used to that, too. Dropped out of the soup at around 2,000 feet and made a visual approach into Managua. And boy did they remember El Americano; they told me to taxi to Charlie 5 which I just assumed was where I put it the time before, away from the commercial airliner terminal and next to the other general aviation planes. As I proceeded, the tower calls me up and says, "7154U, turn 180 degrees". Oh. I turned around and proceeded to taxi just behind the parked commercial airliners. I saw some other planes up ahead, maybe 100 yards away from the terminal, and I figured they were putting me there. Nope. "54Uniform, park next to the Delta jet." You mean the 737? Yup. They parked me right next to, and perpendicular to, a 737. I was twenty feet away from the terminal. Rock star parking. I got out, greeted everyone like we were old friends, and they whisked me through immigration, customs was nonexistent, and voila, back in Granada for the nite. 

In the past two weeks we have flown about 24 hours and have covered some 3000 nautical miles across five countries. I still have another 20 or so hours in the air over the next 10 days before this grand adventure comes to a close. It ain’t over yet…

Lounge lizards

This post is for Mackessy, who wanted to hear more about the lounging.

Today is a lounge day. It’s 88 degrees and I am sitting in a hammock, listening to music and catching up with what the rest of the world has been up to. Read: I have done absolutely nothing all day.

 

Santa Teresa is a very beautiful place however there is a bit of petty crime here. This morning, Collin got his flipflops stolen while surfing. Pretty much nothing on the beach is safe; nothing can be unmonitored. They watch you.

Collin’s beginning to worry me.

Last night I woke up to the sound of wrinkling plastic wrap. I looked over to see Collin sitting, Indian style, on his bed, inhaling a roll of oreos (here you can buy a roll of a dozen oreos for 75 cents). It was pretty dark, I was half asleep, and I couldn’t see him too well; I was going to say something but decided not to. In the morning I had a suspicion he had been sleepeating; so I asked him if he remembered eating a roll of oreos in the middle of the nite. He stared at me blankly and said, ‘No. I didn’t do that.’ I looked down at the oreo wrapper next to his bed. He started laughing and said, ‘Man, I feel sorry for you, having to share a room with me.’ This, not because of the oreo incident, but because it is the third nighttime incident in the past week. In the dorm room at the lake, again in the middle of the nite, Collin got up and was fiddling around with something. I didn’t pay much attention to it (my bunk was next to his). In the morning, I saw him get up and open his locker, which is adjacent to the bed. In it was his pillow. He looked at the pillow, looked at me, and shook his head. ‘I was looking for this,’ he said. Apparently he got up in the middle of the nite, found his locker key, UNLOCKED THE LOCKER, placed his pillow in the locker, and locked his locker, while still asleep. In the morning he couldn’t find his pillow. He didn’t remember putting it in the locker.

That was the second incident. The first incident was maybe three days before that, when, in the middle of the nite (I think this was in La Ceiba), he asks me, ‘John, have you figured out how to cross from the Caribbean to the Pacific?’ Flummoxed, wondering why on earth he was asking that irrelevant question, and at 3 in the morning, I simply said, ‘No.’ He didn’t respond. In the morning I asked him why he had asked me that question. Collin: ”What question?” when I told him what happened, he said, ‘Oh yeah, sometimes I do that.’

We have gone from sleep talking to sleepwalking to sleepeating. I wonder what the rest of the week will bring. Sleepflying?

Any landing you can walk away from is a good landing

By 11AM this morning, Collin was feeling well enough for us to depart for Costa Rica. We bid farewell to all and grabbed a cab to Managua airport ($28 from Granada). There we went through the process of leaving the country. As I had been to flight control twice already, and to the FBO administrative office (there is no FBO for general aviation; it’s the same one for all planes), I knew the routine. First to flight planning, where I paid both my departure fee ($105) and my flyover fee for when I return to Mexico. It costs $100 to fly over Nicaragua each time, period. No ifs, ands, or buts. At least they're consistent. I paid ahead of time so that when I request a flyover permit, I won’t have to wire them money (this is where the money wiring comes in to play; if you don’t land there, you do have to send them money before flying over Nicaragua). After parting with $205 I went next door to the FBO administrative office, where they handed me a bill of about $80, a reasonable amount for a 4 day stay at MNMG. This is comparable, on a daily basis, to what we paid in La Ceiba and Roatan. But after handing me a slip of paper with that amount on it, the guy takes it back, crosses it out and writes down $145. That’s when my Spanish improved immensely. Apparently they charge $20 each time a crew member picks us up from the plane or drops us off to the plane. Now, the distance from where my plane was parked to where they drop us off is about 300 meters. That’s about $100 per mile. In Nicaragua.

I was not agreeable to the charge, and in my subtle and diplomatic way I communicated this to them, in Spanish. I explained to them that it was a ridiculous cost, and unacceptable. Of course they could not disagree and rather quickly crossed out the total and replaced it with a new total, of $105. I agreed to that but was still a little hot under the collar and told them, in amazingly fluent Spanish speaking a hundred miles an hour, that I was going to tell every American pilot I know how expensive it is to fly to Managua. They did not respond to that but were quite accommodating afterwards.

The FBO takes credit cards but the flight planning office does not. Cash only.

Total cost in Managua: departure fee, $105 (max takeoff weight dependent), ramp fee, four days, $105, flyover fee for my return to the US, $100.

By 115PM we were preflighting and at 130PM we took off, IFR, for Liberia (MRLB), Costa Rica. We climbed to 11,000 feet (MEA) for the one hour flight. Conditions were mostly visual. After an uneventful flight we were vectored in to the ILS runway 07 at Liberia. Welcome to Costa Rica.

On the ground, Liberia, Costa Rica

It took over 2 hours to get out of Costa Rica. The process was not explained at all and we ended having to go back and forth from Customs to flight planning to Administration. And the offices are all spread out. So here is the CORRECT way to do it:

After passing through immigration and customs, STOP. Go to a small brown door on the right after you exit customs (Aduanas) where the head dude sits in an air conditioned, windowless office. There, you present all of the normal documents: airworthiness, registration, insurance, medical, license, passport.  The man is particular; I watched him weigh down the page of my passport so that it lay perfectly flat while he typed in the information. That took him, oh, a minute to do. I swear to god I almost fell asleep in the chair in front of his desk, waiting for him. When he is done you get permission to stay in the country for a certain period of time, with your plane. For us it was til the end of the month.

After that, you turn left, and go upstairs to the administrative office. There is also a restaurant upstairs. Find the administrative office and give him the permission slip and he will give you some other slip or slips, and you pay $5 and get a receipt. THEN go to flight planning, which is located IN THE CONTROL TOWER at the far end of the field. Enter the control tower and walk upstairs, where you then file your flight plan.

If you know how to do it you can do it all in 45 minutes. We, however, ended up going from Customs to flight planning, to administration; then at administration they took us back to Customs, where we then followed what I outlined above.The guy in the administrative office, who took me back to Customs, and explained what to do, was very helpful. We would have tipped him $10 but we didn't have it. I hear Collin gave him a buck.

By the time we finished flight planning for Tambor (MRTR) it was 440PM. Sunset is 540PM. Figure a 45 minute flight. We were pushing daylight. Did I mention Tambor airport was not on any of our aeronautical charts?? We found it looking at Heidi's National Geographic Adventurers map of Costa Rica. That map was not accurate either; it had three times as many airstrips as really exist, or thereabouts. So basically we were trying to find an airstrip not on any of our charts. We found it on Google, got the lat lon coordinates and plugged it into the GPS, and went direct. That's right. Basically, we are aviator gods.

Enroute from Liberia to the unknown airstrip at Tambor.

We took off by 5, VFR, to Tambor, at 4,500 feet. Clouds prohibited us from climbing to 5,500. Terrain topped out at 3,500 around us. It was a short, pleasant flight. We were flying to a very small air strip, located maybe 200 feet from the ocean. The strip is very short, less than 2300 feet. This is shorter than my home field at Potomac, which is already short at I think 2600 feet. An average runway length is maybe 5,000 feet. It is also surrounded by hills about 3,000 feet high, making it very challenging to conduct a missed approach, or to land from any direction other than 330. Basically, it's a pretty friggin interesting approach that you don't want to screw up. I certainly did not want to have to go around. I circled once, dropped down to 700 feet over the water on final, and came in with a short field landing approach in mind. Turned out, I had no problem stopping short of the runway end; think carrier landing. I let my airspeed drop too much a foot or two above the ground and we fell a little bit. No bounce; no ground effect. Too slow. But as they say, Any landing you can walk away from is a good landing. So, Good Landing.

On final, Tambor (MRTR)

The red sled safe and sound and on the ground, MRTR

Took a cab to Santa Teresa for $40. One hour ride. Staying at this very swank place, for $35 a nite. Nicest place we’ve stayed at so far. Which is good; these aviators are tired. Will be surfing by 7AM.

Say Goodbye to Granada (Nicaragua)

The original plan was to leave last Friday or Saturday, from Managua to Bocas del Toro, Panama. But we decided to stay in Nicaragua for a couple reasons.

The first reason, and really the overriding one, was that, despite having originally requested permission to fly into and land in Panama on Wednesday, I did not hear anything for two days.

On Friday, the day after our arrival into Managua, I spent 3 hours on the bus/in the cab to return to the airport from Managua, to check out my radios on the plane. They worked satisfactorily. Likely it was the excessive rain and humidity in La Ceiba for 24 hours that affected adversely the relay connected to the transmit buttons on the yokes. Not sure I mentioned this but during the flight from La Ceiba to Managua, water was dripping on my legs. My legs are normally situated well beneath the controls/avionics panel during flight. The red sled ain't watertight. Nicaragua, however, has been warm and dry. So by Friday 10AM, the red sled was airworthy.

By friday I had also found Granada to be a worthy place to hang out at for a while. We met a couple of very entertaining folks, Heidi and Kate, and after the evening of giving away soccer balls to the kids (Heidi and Kate joined us), we decided to hang out with them. On Saturday, they had planned to go to a local crater lake for the weekend, and so we placed our Panama plans on hold. This was the only thing we could have done, since, by Friday AM, I had not hear back from the Panama Civil Aviation Authority. I then emailed them again at 1PM Friday, once I got back to Granada from the airport, and at 3pm, 30 minutes before their office closed, they emailed me back saying they needed a copy of my medical and insurance. I did not receive that email until about 7PM Friday. I guess I forgot to send these. I sent them right away but realized that the office would likely be closed for the weekend.

PILOTS: Panama is the only country that did not get back to me after I sent in a request. When I queried them, they then said I needed to provide them with more documents. Panama was the most unresponsive CAA I have dealt with so far, but some of it was also my fault. I would say if you don’t hear back from them within 24 hours, you should query them.

However I am not sorry I did not query them on Thursday, for if I had, we might have left Friday, and missed meeting our new friends in Granada. We went to Lago Poya Saturday morning, which is 20 minutes from Granada by shuttle, and stayed at El Hostal Paradiso, which truly is paradise. It is run by a very nice couple from France and getting off the shuttle in front of the hostal, I felt like I was on Fantasy Island, when one of the hosts came out to greet us with, “Welcome to El Hostal Paradiso.” Situated right on the lake, with a full bar, kitchen, dorm room and private rooms, cabanas, etc., it was simply perfectly laid out. And all for $10 per bed per nite. But what made it special was the group of travelers we were fortunate enough to encounter. The weekend was basically one laid back lounge party on a beautiful lake whose water temperature was about 85 degrees with an air temp of about 90, with an onshore breeze. Paradiso.

However all good things come to an end. Heidi flies out today, Ben and Chelsea leave for Roatan(!), Marike stays here with Kate. 

Chelsea, me, Kate, Heidi, Ben, Collin, Marike

For us, the new plan is to go directly to Costa Rica today. This in spite of my having received Panama clearance at 945AM this morning. We will head to Managua in an hour or so, once Collin feels better (he’s been battling a stomach bug for about 4 days now), and from there fly to Liberia (MRLB), clear customs, and then proceed to a small airport on the tip of La Peninsula Nacoya (not on our charts but I think it is there; like La Isla de la Muerta, it can only be found by those who know it is there). Surf and sand, here we come!!

Radios optional

It rained all nite. Hard. I woke up at 7 am and it was still raining, hard. Nevertheless in spite of the crappy weather we motivated to the airport and got there by 830. There we checked out.

La Ceiba, Honduras

Pilots: Honduras charges for flight protection. the amount they charge is $0.30 per km. The distance is the distance in Honduran airspace from your international destination. This does not have anything to do with actual flight distance. For example Mexico only has a calculated distance of about 42km. Since we were going to Nicaragua, the distance was about 350km. Thus the total amount for flight protection was about $105. This was the retail price. They told me that it would be $65. I disputed this since it seemed arbitrary to me. I spoke with El Jefe of the airport in La Ceiba and he explained the way the charge is calculated. However, this is negotiable. I told them that since I was returning to Honduras, I wanted to pay less. I negotiated $45 each way from Managua. SO yes prices are negotiable, but yes, they do have a method to their madness.

Ramp fees were $19 for an overnight stay.

After taking care of all that, we were whisked through customs and immigration. Pilots are given the VIP treatment; we bypassed all lines. It was great. Still raining cats and dogs, we went to our plane, which I parked 200 meters away. By the time we finished preflight, we were soaked. And, the airport was closed; too much rain. So we sat in the plane for about 15 minutes before they reopened the airport. ceiling was maybe 1000' and it was pouring. Now, the mountains around La Ceiba are high. MEA just outside of La Ceiba is 10,000. We took off IFR, headed east over the Caribbean, and I began to climb to 10,000. it is important to get to 10,000 before proceeding. If not, you will run into mountains. We were in complete IMC; total whiteout, raining hard. At 10,000 it was still raining hard, we were still in the soup. I turned west, direct Bertha, and requested 12,000. We climbed to 12,000, and we were still in it but I could see sunlight. And it was still raining hard! and the temperature was 35!! Definitely my adrenalin started pumping; mountains all around me, to 11,000, in the soup, raining, and close to freezing temperatures. Awesome.

in the soup at 12,000

Nicaragua

In about 20 minutes we broke out of the clouds, finally. Still in IMC, we tracked to Toncontin VOR then to some other waypoint. With a tailwaind we were doing 155 knots ground speed. We were moving. About 30 minutes outside of Managua, we could see mountains and volcanoes. The skies had cleared somewhat, but we then had another problem; the radios starting acting up. I had had a similar problem months ago on the day of my IFR flight exam; it was not a good problem. Managua ATC had a hard time hearing us. They were not happy. However I successfully communicated to them a request for a VFR approach into Managua and we landed without incident, even though it was blowing 15-25 with a crosswind and shear.

Upon landing we were once again given the VIP treatment, with a van meeting us and whisking us past a couple hundred people in the line for Customs. I then went to the operations center, gave them a copy of the appropriate papers (flight plan, airworthiness, registration, etc.) and we were on our way.

Pilots: We did NOT have to pay the $100 departure fee by wire prior to our arrival. That is a misperception. When we leave, we will then pay the $100 fee. That is also for flight following. In general the employees at Manauga airport are professional and courteous. I was impressed.

I spent about 2 hours screwing around with the damn radios, with no improvement. I cannot take off until this problem is resolved, so tomorrow I will return to the airport and try to resolve.

We took a cab for $8 from the airport (across the street) to the Uca bus station, where we hopped on a bus for Granada. It cost $1 and took an hour. Granada is a fantastic town. Tonite, I finally gave away some of the soccer balls I got from Andy. I have about 15 balls, mostly soccer balls. We gave away maybe 6, to a group of maybe 20 kids, ages 5-12. It was really cool, they were playing in the street, and me and Collin and a couple of girls from the same hostel held a goal shooting contest to see who would get the best ball. We then played with the kids for an hour or two. They wouldn't let us leave; kept asking when we would be back. The only downside was that, while I was playing goalie in the street, i was barefoot, and someone stole my flipflops. The kids were really cute about it and one of them asked their parents to give me some so I now have a tiny pair of pink sandals that I am wearing, until tomorrow, when I can get some more from the market. I plan to go back tomorrow evening with some more balls for the kids. It was a new experience for Collin, he had never done anything like that before. I am sure he will pay it forward.

Granada and Nicaragua are both really great. I will have to come back just to visit those kids.

"I am ready to get...off this island"

Departure, Roatan airport

Collin woke up today and said, “I am ready to get…off this island.” He read my mind. Roatan is a weird place. Like Groundhog Day. And everything is distorted. The locals are comprised of expats from the US, Canada, and Europe, plus local Honduran women who are all looking for a dollar. Then you have the tourists. That’s it. A weird artificial culture. Mind you, me and Collin got submerged into the deep underbelly of the local/expat scene very quickly; not something most tourists will see. We are over Roatan.

Today (Wednesday Jan 12) we flew to La Ceiba to pick up fuel (Roatan has no Avgas). We ran into a local commercial pilot who helped us out. We asked about plates, and he’s like, “We only fly VFR, man. The plates are really really old and not updated. I wouldn’t use IFR approaches unless they’re into big airports.” Interesting. We had to pay $28 for flight service fee (flying from Cozumel) and $54 for airport and ramp fees for 4 days. Added to that a $14 customs fee and our total fees at Roatan came out to $96. A VFR flight to La Ceiba was without incident (only 40 nm). The ground crew is great at La Ceiba! Much better than Roatan. But it might also be because Collin started greasing everyone’s palms with $5 in La Ceiba. But beware, everyone is trying to rip you off. For example, the guy at the ramp walked us out to the taxi and said it should be $8; but the cab driver wanted to charge us $11. Not a big deal, but it’s the principle! The ramp guy set him straight. We paid him $10 as we went further to find a hotel. Also, they fuel guys claim they put 26 gallons into the mooney. No way did I burn that much fuel with a 2.2 hour flight from Cozumel and a 15 minute flight to La Ceiba. I would have expected 20-22 gallons. So I question their meter in La Ceiba.

Bottom line: Flight services is much better in La Ceiba. There is no fuel in Roatan.  Outbound fees $82. inbound fees, none; domestic flight.

La Ceiba airport

We are staying at The Rotterdam, a backpacker hotel on the beach, for $14, and tomorrow, we hope to go to Managua, Nicaragua. We are still waiting for flight permission to Nicaragua. My sister Sue is helping us with this, serving as intermediate, since her Spanish is better than mine. She’s been a big help.

 UPDATE: WE just got our clearance into Manaugua! Nicaragaua tomorrow, weather permitting. Speaking about weather I hear NY is expecting 10-15 inches of snow today? Not all is perfect here. I got bit by a sandfly or two and Collin got sunburned...hahaha...

Next Stop, Roatan!

Honduras here we Come

We got a reasonably early start Sunday morning, arriving at MMCZ (Cozumel Airport) around 9 or so. Went straight to the FBO, located past the main terminal by 100 feet, to the Operations desk. There we got a Plan de Vuelo (Flight plan) and figured out our routing. I gave us one hour 15 minutes to departure time, thinking we could easily get everything done by then. We proceeded to obtain the same four stamps of approval: operations, Immigration, Customs, and El Jefe. In that order, by the way. Operations charged a $20 airport fee. Immigration, Customs, and the Airport Supervisor are all located in the main terminal. Also there were about two hundred people waiting to check in. We pilots smugly walked through the line, to the window at immigration, where there was no line. The same kind gentleman who saw us through immigration upon our arrival was working (he told me that he would be), and he greeted us like old pals. It took him 5 minutes to process our flight plan, then we went to the Customs window, which is literally twenty feet to the left. Customs signed our form in 30 seconds, after which we proceeded across the airport lobby to the stairs leading up to the airport offices, there the supervisor was located. Also very polite and professional, they stamped our flight plan and also gave me a certificate so that I could fly in to Mexico as many times as I want within the year. That cost $65, the same price as a onetime entry. I had actually purchased this upon arrival but it takes a little while for them to write it up so I said I would just pick it up upon departure. Worked without a hitch.

Back to operations, where we checked the weather. Then through security (at the FBO; no line) and onto the tarmac, where the red sled was awaiting. Called for fuel, and after a 10 minute wait, a truck rolled up and filled us. By hen we had thrown all our crap into the plane, including the surfboard and huge bag. We were right on time, with 5 minutes to spare. Unfortunately the fuel truck had taken my credit card and said they would be right back with it. Not really. It was a good ten or 15 minutes before they returned. At that point we were maybe 5 minutes past filed departure time, still within the 15 minute window.

Romeo Bravo WHAT?

N7154U fired up immediately. Collin talked to the Tower (also clearance delivery and ground) and you could tell they wanted to get us going, either because we were bumping up against filed departure time or because they had other flights to take care of. We were not yet ready with our flight route; and when Collin took departure procedures down, neither one of us could understand the dispatcher. “7154U, upon takeoff climb 2000 romeo bravo three to Xoren.” That’s what she said. What I heard; “7154 uniform three thousand romeo bravo three Zorro.” What?? Collin asked her to repeat but still we had no idea what she was saying. Did I mention we didn’t have PLATES??? Big mistake. Collin wisely told Tower we were not familiar with the instrument departure procedure and tower gave us VOR radials with climb info. Then, tower was like, “7154U, line up and wait runway 09.” I called them to tell them we weren’t ready. They said “that’s okay, line up and wait.” I had just completed the runup but Collin was still waiting for the L3 map to load into his iPad. We however taxied onto the runway, and sat there, waiting for an eternity to figure out what the heck Zorro was. Tower called us again, wanted to know if we were ready to take off. We still were not. You could tell they wanted us to take off as we were definitely running up against the 15 minutes grace period past departure time. We took off and flew vectors (I believe it was 220 along the CZM radial to 3000, to XOREN, an intersection we didn’t know about) as instructed. My GPS does not have international airways, intersections, or VORs but it does have airports. We took off and climbed out as instructed and then Collin gave me lat lon fixes for the intersections we would need to fly to, to stay on airways. I inputted manually the fixes into the flight computer and then constructed a flight plan on the GPS. This worked just fine. Of course, it was something we should have done hours, if not days, before. We also thought we would have plates with us. Lesson learned. More homework would be necessary prior to flight planning. Also, next time I would give more time to ETD. At leat 90 minutes. We both definitely felt rushed to get off the ground.

We leveled out at 10,000. The red sled was running well; we had averaged better than 9 gph from Florida to Cozumel, and consumed (leaked out) maybe a half quart of oil. At 10,000 we cruised at 137k ground speed all the way to Roatan, Honduras. ATC once again worked just like in the US, with Cozumel tower handing us over to departure, then to Roatan Tower 100 miles out (!). 60 miles out I began my descent, hitting the island at 3,000 and flying over it at 2,000. We were cleared for a visual approach, runway 25, and it was a clear but breezy day. My approach was a little tight; the airport is on the edge of the island and I don’t like flying over water at 1000 feet or lower, so I tend to fly my downwind leg close to the runway, meaning my base is basically a continuous turn on to final. Touchdown, Welcome to Honduras!

It is much hotter in Roatan than Cozumel. This is the tropics! Yes! One woman came out to the plane immediately and asked for some paperwork; mostly she wanted to see our permission slip to land in Honduras. I had not printed it out but it was on my computer and I showed her that, and she was satisfied. (Not sure if I talked about this earlier, but I submitted electronically a flight permit request from the Honduras Civil Aviation Authority and got approval in less than 24 hours. Piece of cake.) Then Customs came out, sprayed my plane with some bug killer, and told us to go to immigration. We did, with our bags, at which point the immigration officer asked for my passenger manifest. I did not have this. I filled one out in Mexico but was not given a copy. She did not like this, but of course on the flight plan form was a list of passengers so I suggested we could use that. The officer reluctantly agreed. So I went looking for the person who had it. This was operations. The Operations office is located one or two doors before the international arrivals door, on the tarmac. I went in and asked for the plan back. I then went back to the passport desk, showed her it, and proceeded to Customs, where they xrayed our bags. After that I repacked some stuff and made a couple trips back and forth to the plane (each one taking 10 minutes) to drop stuff off/pick stuff up. I got way too much crap with me. Thank God Collin decided to leave his board on the plane. We took our headsets and flight computer with us this time, and hopped a cab to the West End. Seemed like a good idea. But we had no idea where to go, or what to do, in Roatan. We found out right quick.

Summary: Departure at Cozumel cost a total of $20. There was no ramp fee. Fuel was $3.88 per gallon, all taxes included. Landing permit for one year for Mexico, $65. Honduras Customs fee, $14. Conducting a visual approach into Roatan Island, Honduras; priceless.

Have you ever done this before?

Collin's buddy Chad put us up for the night in Daytona Beach. After some awesome burgers and a few beers and the premier episode of Jersey Shore (one word: catfight) we hit the sack. Got going the next morning around 730, and over breakfast (prepared by Chad, Thanks) Collin discovers the Jeppesen charts and plates he ordered form a local pilot shop were the wrong ones. We had picked them up after flying in to Daytona, but did not look at them closely til now. They got us the Jepp package for the Caribbean, not Central America. And this set is not cheap: $156!
So now we haven't got approach plates or low airway charts. But we do have the lo airway chart L3 both on my laptop and on Collin's ipad. We had already figured out our route of flight and inputted it into the flight computer. On our way to the airport I called FSS to file our flight plan. This took a while. Long story short; he was asking me alot more questions than usual, which had to do with our overseas international flight. Finally at one point the briefer asks, "Have you ever done this before?" to which I replied, "Absolutely not." His response: "Be careful."
Really? Be careful? What does that mean, be careful? What do you think I'm gonna do??
Whatever. That briefer actually wasn't so good, because after we landed at X01 (1.5 hours south-southwest of OMN, on the west coast of FL), FSS called me. That briefer said he needed more information that was not obtained by the first briefer.


Pilots: We filed from Key West even though we did not depart from there. We departed VFR from X01 and picked up our IFR flight plan from Key West to MMCZ, Cozumel, via the Maxim intersection (exiting the US ADIZ) and then Vinka, direct. Havana control helped us out and actually directed us to Emosa maybe 100 miles past Maxim, which ended up saving us 20 minutes or so.

How many planes do you think make this flight?
We stayed to the north of the Florida keys, then to the north of Cuban airspace, at 8000 feet. We paralleled Cuba the entire route of flight; we could actually see the west end of Cuba. At that point we were maybe 100 miles from Mexico. We were transferred from Key West to Havana to Cancun to Cozumel approach, all without a hitch, just like in the US. The only difference is Havana and Mexico control is bilingual. Whenever we checked in, it was the same protocol: "Havana Control, November 7154 Uniform, eight thousand." Throughout the entire flight, we must have heard three dozen airlines check in, and all of them would be checking in from Flight level 270, 350, 420 even; not once did we hear another plane check in from below 19000 feet. That's when I asked Collin: "How many general aviation single engine pistons you think make this flight?" I don't know, but based on the three hour window we flew, not alot.

Flight time from X01 to Key West was about 40 minutes. It was another 3 hours to Cozumel. The flight was uneventful. Boring, even. Finally, we saw Cozumel...

upon approach:

Is anybody home?

Upon landing, the tower directed us to the FBO via Delta. The airport at Cozumel is small, there is only one FBO and we later found out that during the week, there are no commercial flights after 330PM. Since it was already 4PM by the time we landed, we had the entire airport to ourselves. Once parked, we stayed in the plane until the military came and checked our ID and licenses. You are not required to notify Mexican Customs prior to arrival; they know you are coming from your filed flight plan. After we were checked out, we got out of the airplane and went through customs and immigration, like any other flight. Only difference being, there were no other flights. We were the only customers...

We had the entire airport to ourselves. However after passing through Customs and Immigration, we then had to go to Operations at the FBO and get four stamps from the following: Operations, Customs, Immigration, and El Jefe del aeropuerto. That was also relatively painless, and took maybe thirty minutes, largely used when walking between the main terminal and the FBO (5 minutes). After we got all the stamps, we returned to Operations and that was it. Total Cost: $26 for Collin (the cost to bring in one passenger), and $65 for a one year, multiple entry permit into Mexico with my plane. Cheap.

So far, from VKX, we have spent about $300 in fuel and $90 in fees. And the fuel price in Cozumel is supposedly $3.37 per gallon. So far, so cheap.

We made it

In Cozumel. Piece of cake. More later.

Thunderstorms? In JANUARY??

The toughest flying on this whole trip likely will have been what we ended up doing yesterday.

Synopsis: plane checked out, picked up Collin, left for Florida, ended in Savannah.

I spent tuesday nite at Andy and Lora's and drove out to HWV, Brookhaven airport on Long Island (my home airport), around 7. By the time I loaded the plane with all of my stuff (tent, backpack, flight pack, life raft, tools, oil, etc.) I casually wondered where Collin was going to sit, much less his board and stuff. I packed the plane pretty full. Did I mention the red sled is like the MR2? Not alot of space. But whatever.Wheels up, 745AM, ambient temperature -2 C, skies clear. First stop, Aero Engines, Winchester, VA. The two hour flight was fast and pleasant, I was cruising at about 135 knots ground speed, IAS (indicated air speed) was about 145 knots. A little faster than with the old engine. Tom wasn't there but Pete was and we (I) removed the oil filter and swapped out the engine oil. Pete cut open the oil filter to inspect it; all looked good. Jeremy, another A&P (airplane mechanic) also gave it a onceover, found a couple things, like a chafing bolt on the starter cable (not good), so we fixed that too. But the most valuable part of flying to Winchester was when Jeremy asked me, after I told him of our trip to Central America, "Don't you need permits for that?" Permits? We don't need to stinking permits. I mean, we got radio licenses, Customs stickers, Customs clearance, IFR flight plans, whaddya mean, Permits??
"I think you need permits for that. Ask Pete, he's flown down there before."
Pete shows up, Jeremy asks him the same question, and Pete says, "Well, only if you don't want to get shot down. Remember those missionaries in Peru? They got shot down." Pete had ferried a POS (piece of junk, aviation term) Twin Commander from southern Chile back to the US some years ago, and in between emergency landings he wound up in areas without permits. In fact, when flying from Chile to Peru, after spending hours on the phone trying to procure required flight permits, he just told the Chileans on the phone, "Screw it. I spent enough time on this. I'm just flying to Peru, will straighten it out there." Said the Chilean authorities: "Senor, that is a bad idea." Well, he did it, and he didn't get shot down, but he spent a day looking down machine gun barrels, trying to explain what happened (and he doesn't speak spanish). Says Pete: "Well, if you got time to kill, you don't need permits. But if you have the time, you might want to get flight permits."
You learn something new every day.
By 1PM I was buttoning up the red sled for the flight to my other home airport, VKX (Potomac, Maryland). It took me one hour to get there and while uneventful, it is always a little crazy flying so close to DC. There are many rules and restricted airspace surrounding the Capitol. In fact, to land where VKX is, you have to have undergone a security clearance with TSA and be on file, etc. Even then, when you're flying into the SFRA (Special Flight Rules Area), it can be confusing if you're not used to it. I am used to it, having flown in and out of the SFRA weekly for the past two years, but I am only used to one particular route; other routes, like the one today, are foreign and therefore a little bit more attention grabbing. If you mess up in the SFRA you become national news ('Small plane flies over White House, causing utter panic'), are ridiculed by other pilots, and might be lit up (shot down). Seriously.
But I made it with only one minor infringement on airspace (not my fault). Landed at VKX around 2PM local. Temperature: freaking cold. 35F or something like that. Spent the next two hours trying to figure out exactly what countries require permits, and how to get them. I even enlisted the help of my little sister Sue (that's 'Suzanne' to all you nonbrothers out there) to call the Civil Aviation Authority in Honduras and get a document from them, which she did with typical alarming alacrity and efficiency. After that I decided to join a website, caribbeanskytours.com, for $50, that gives us crucial information. Why didn't I do this before, you may ask? Well, I sorta did; I joined a different, cheaper website, which was not nearly as useful. You get what you pay for.

Bottom line (pilots pay attention): you need permits to land in, or fly over, Belize, Honduras, Nicaragua, and Panama. Mexico and Costa Rica, you don't.

We'll take care of that in Daytona Beach. The first goal is to get out of the northeast. Collin showed up around four with his mom (see pic), and it took us a couple hours to get all organized. Collin's stuff includes a 6'2 quad surfboard, a board bag (inflatable) and a backpack and flight bag. I don't know how but we got it all in the plane. We filed IFR to KCPC, a small municipal airport located in Whiteville (I am not kidding), North Carolina. Cheap fuel. IT is only 2.5 hours to Whiteville and the weather there looks good. However, weather is a fickle beast and by the time we got to CPC the nice weather turned to soup. We were in IMC (instrument meteorological conditions) for the last hour of flight, and the closer to CPC we got, the worse it got. The idea was to land VFR (visual; you can see the airport, so you can land there) but as we flew over at about a thousand feet, we saw nothing. No lights, nothing. Collin kept furiously clicking on the CTAF for runway lights (typically you click 5-7 times on your mike and the runway lights turn on, giving you a visual reference at nite) but we still saw nothing. IFR approach into CPC was then arranged for with ATC (air traffic control) and we landed. Let's just say on a scale of 1-10 for challenging instrument landings, this one was a solid 8. Maybe even 8.5.

Obviously, the weather had gotten worse with time. As we refueled (there was not a soul around), we checked the weather on the flight computer and with ATC. When we called to enquire about flying to Daytona Beach, the briefer paused, and said, "Have you seen the latest radar image?" No, we replied, we have not. After another pause that indicated part disbelief, part bewilderment, the guy says, "Well you got a line of thunderstorms running west to east, tracking east, across the entire state of Florida south of Georgia". Thunderstorms? In January??? OK. Easy Call. To Kate, that is, a friend who lives in Savannah, Georgia. Professor Kate answered the call at about 1045PM and she graciously agreed to let us stay with her. That's when I mentioned it'd be about two hours before we arrived. Take a cab, was her reasonable response.

Icing
We filed direct SAV and took off, immediately into the soup. Not a problem, though nighttime IMC is a little bit challenging in the red sled, because of less-than-optimal cockpit lighting. More of a concern was Collin's visual inspection of the wings at 6000'. "We got a little ice". I hate ice. I am afraid of ice. So we asked for 4000'. Still in the soup. After a few minutes, Collin:"We still got a little ice". Three thousand feet. "We still got some ice." However there is one thing I hate more than ice, and that is controlled flight into terrain. I hesitated to go lower. Collin glued his eyes to the wing, and after 10 or so minutes, the ice seemed to go away. Now we are not talking about alot of ice; this stuff just looked like whiter areas on the wings. Very thin, very little ice. But like I said, I hate ice. Any ice. Anyway, we managed. The approach into SAV was an ILS and we busted out at about 600'. The tower was closed, ground was closed, the terminals were closed; so there we were, at this humongous airport, trying to figure out where to go. We found an FBO and parked the plane, then proceeded to look for an egress. It's hard to enter an airport premises but usually you can find a oneway gate to get out. Usually. After walking around the perimeter of the tarmac for an hour, we gave up. There was simply no way for us to leave the airport compound. So we got back in the red sled and taxied a couple miles, to another FBO, where we found a turnstile exit. And there was even a yellow cab waiting for us! We hustled it to Kate's, who was nice enough to open the door at 230AM...

There's lots of low white stuff.
9AM came pretty quick, after flying all day prior. I was still in bed when Kate came in. Eyes still closed, I asked her to give me a weather briefing, and she looks outside, and pronounces, "There's lots of really low white stuff." In spite of this, Collin and I headed to the airport and filed for Dayton Beach (OMN). A very pleasant, uneventful flight.

The plane up to now is running well. Fuel burn is lower, speeds are up, all looks good. The plan is to leave for Cozumel via Key West, tomorrow. Weather should be fair, VFR (though we will go IFR).

In Daytona Beach we are staying with Chad and hanging out with Collin's buddies.

N7154U

Preflight

Greetings. I have created this blog for two purposes: to allay concerns and worry by loved ones (especially Collin's mom, and ok, my mom), and to provide relevant information for other prospective aviators who may wish to, but are fearful of, flying around Mexico and Central America.

A couple of months ago, after a successful adventure through Thailand (that is a completely different story), I decided that I wanted to fly my plane to Central and possibly South America. For those of you who know me, this probably is not a huge surprise. Why do it? If one considers the opportunity for finding surf, sun, sand, and interesting people, coupled with the adventure of flying internationally (and across open water), the more reasonable question becomes, why not do it?

The cast of characters consists of me, Collin, and my plane. I assume if you are reading this, you know me (John). I am an instrument rated pilot with about 500 hours, mostly in my 200 HP 1964 Mooney M20E (tail number N7154U). I have been flying for about three years. Collin, my copilot and friend, is 23, is a CFII (certified flight instrument instructor), and has about the same number of hours as I do. He is a graduate of Emory Riddle, which is a very well known aviation school in Florida. He also surfs. Which is why, in my Mooney, we will have a friggin 6'2" quad riding along with us. For those of you who know Mooneys, you are probably laughing; will be sure to take a pic of the board sitting on top of Collin's head.

If you are not familiar with my plane, it is a complex (retractable landing gear, variable speed propeller), relatively small 4 seater, and is known for its speed, fuel efficiency, and airframe strength. Think MR-2 of the sky. My plane has just recently undergone an engine overhaul along with installation of a new prop and blades. This is actually a double edged sword (more on this later) but to date the plane is running well. I will have about 20 hours on the new engine before we head to Cozumel.

Today, tuesday, January 4, is the night before the trip begins. In the morning, I will fly the red sled (no, the plane's not red; i just like the name) to Winchester, where Tom of Aero Engines will do one last inspection of the newly overhauled engine. We plan to remove the oil filter and inspect it, and visually inspect everything else. That will take maybe three hours. After a clean bill of health, the plan is for me to pick up Collin at VKX (Potomac airfield, MD) and then for us to fly to OMN, near Daytona Beach, via MAO (fuel stop). We will spend the night in Daytona Beach at Collin's buddy's place, then thursday morning, head to Cozumel via X01 (Everglades Airpark).

OK I gotta go check the weather. More later.