Team Mooney

I'm gonna blame it all on Dan. Once he found out I have a plane and am not shy about going most anywhere, he started immediately to tell me about freedive spearfishing. In the Yucatan. I said, we can fly commercial, but then he went on about how a pain it was to pack all your gear, including spear guns, plus of course fishing rods etc., so I basically said, Yup, that's good enough reason for me. I'm in.
Then we decided we really wanted a third. After all, three is more fun than two, and anyway if we rent a boat, one can stay in it while the other two dive. Great, I said. But none of my (three) friends who would be up for such a trip could ever pull it off. Enter Erin.

Departure date was MLK day, January 20. Turns out Dan had a thing down in West Palm and Erin was in Myrtle Beach. Thus the plan was, I would pick up Erin, then we would fly to get Dan, then off to, once again, the Yucatan (Cozumel). I loaded up the Red Sled with Dan's and my gear: two spearguns (5 feet each), two float lines, three deep sea rods, skindive gear for two, a big cooler for the heaps of fish we'd be bringing back, flight bag, backpack, and plane stuff. It took all of the baggage space and the back seat, and really had no idea how I was gonna get not just one, but two adults in the plane with all that gear.
Gear up outta HWV (Long Island) was about noon thirty; it took me forever to load everything. First stop, KXSA, to grab fuel (cheap cheap) and see my good buddy Fred. I wanted to ask him about my starter, which had been giving me trouble. Fred had an extra one out of his LGEZ that was the same as mine, so I thought I'd swap it out. Well, turns out I was pressed for time, my starter was suddenly working fine (it was the bendix actuator giving me a problem), and anyway Fred showed me how to align the starter gear with the flywheel so if the bendix didn't work I could anyway get the gears to engage by hand. I could have taken it with me as a backup were it not for the fact I had neither the space nor room for the thing (18 pounds!).
I fueled up and headed out to a new airport for me, HYW, Horry County. It was a pleasant evening flight; I landed around 630PM or so, and refueled. Erin showed up and we introduced ourselves through the chain link fence: "John?" "Hey, Erin!" I had limited Erin to 35 pounds and he was actually diligent in hitting that mark, which was nice. We loaded up two more rods and another gun, and Erin, and with max fuel, I was at max weight.

Night fuel and loading, Horry County airport, South Carolina

Erin and I had about a three hour flight to Orlando, where we would crash at my good friend Logan's pad. The night flight was uneventful even though it was my third 3 hour leg of the day. However, it being a 50 year old plane, the red sled has nothing if not character. Upon touchdown, KORL, my landing light shut off (it does that when it overheats; I think it's the filament in the switch) so an airport truck volunteered to lead us to one of the two FBOs. I had no idea which to go to (although I had looked it up before, which had the cheaper fuel), so I just said, take us to the closer one. I chose the high end one. How did I know? When they came out to meet us, they brought a carpet. For the red sled. Such treatment does not come without a price. $7.50 a gallon, to be exact. Showalter Air knows how to do it, for sure.

My good buddy Logan came to pick us up and take us to the best taco place in Orlando, and after a solid meal and long day of flying, we crashed out around midnite.