Welcome to Australia, now please run for your life. (updated)


I really am starting to worry about my safety on this trip. First their was the car wreck, then the snow storm, then ice driving, and now a state of emergency, and I had to fly through it.

I really am starting to worry about my safety on this trip. First their was the car wreck, then the snow storm, then ice driving, earthquakes, and now a state of emergency, and I had to fly through it.
Let me start from the beginning. I woke up at the Skyway lodge where once again the manager couldn't have been nicer. Along with the one in Christchurch, this backpacker was definitely the friendliest. I decided to take the earlier bus to the airport because the manger has warned the last bus out at 9:45 was filled to the brim. I took my shower, repacked my bag (as I do every so often to compensate for the latest round of laundry), grabbed the wine, and was off to the airport.
I arrived at the airport so early that I had two hours before I could even check in. This didn't bother me that much because I had journal entries I could write, movies I could watch, books to read, and time to waste. Auckland is actually a pretty nice airport anyway. At one point I discovered that there was an observation tower about the airport so I went up there to take a look.



From the observation tower I ran into a family of plane spotters. Thats just what it sounds like. This father and son sat there and documented every plane they saw, the registration number, where they saw it and at what time. I have to tell you I love aviation, I love planes, I enjoy checking out what planes are at an airport and what country they are from, but when I start documenting this, well thats going a little too far. I tried to imagine what they were doing with all of these pages and pages of registration numbers. Is a registration numbers and place and time, as rewarding to look back on as say... your trip to hawaii. "Ah you remember VH-5432, oh what a great day that was!" Who knows.
Time really passed quickly and before I knew it, I returned my over priced rental cell phone, grabbed a quick bite, called home, and headed through customs. I had arranged with Qantas to get a exit row, so I couldn't have been happier. After a slight delay we boarded out 767-300 and settled in for, based on the look of the weather from the window, a calm flight.

Boy was I wrong.

Before we had even taken off, the captain came on the intercom and warned us that we would have extreme turbulence on the flight to Auckland. Now I have been in situations where the captain has warned of heavy turbulence, sometimes strong turbulence, and on rare times I have been warned of severe turbulence, but extreme turbulence was a new level for me. The uneasiness of flying that I had suppressed a year or two ago began to resurface, and I was desperately in need of a definition of what exactly constituted extreme turbulence. The captain told us that they had loaded extra fuel on the plane so that we could fly low to avoid the "extreme" turbulence. So the way I was now adding it up in my head was we were overloaded going into new level of turbulence with intentions of flying in a manner that this pilot wouldn't usually do. And best of all the main cabin door was now closed. By this point everything I learned at Intrepid regarding the strength of aircraft was thrown out along with the rational part of my head. I needed answer to calm myself, something to drink wouldn't hurt either.
As we taxied out onto the runway the flight attendant walked by and I questioned him on this ominous term being used by the captain. He explained that in this case "extreme" turbulence related more to the amount of turbulence rather than the severity. No words had ever been spoken to put me more at ease. I could handle constant turbulence, as long as it wasn't a coaster ride the whole way to auckland. After all I had an exit row all to myself, and alcohol is free on international flights no matter how short, so I needed to be enjoying myself. Within no time we were taking off.




As we lifted off there were a few bumps but for that and the next 2 hours the flight was pretty much wonderfully uneventful. And then that captain who had done nothing but upset me earlier went back to work. He announced that Sydney airport was warning of very high winds, (at least he didn't say extreme) and they were reporting just in excess of 95 Kmph. At this point I really was wishing that I had bothered to memorize the kilometers to miles formula, but anything over 90 sounds fast when you are talking winds. He carried on to tell us that he would begin the approach and asses the situation and discuss with air traffic control. What the pilot did not realize is that he was playing upon the fear of everyone that has a fear of flying, loss of control. Not only now did we not have any control, but the captain wasn't really sure what he was going to do either. The irony about this was that at that point there was almost no turbulence. That should have bothered me more.
With 10 minutes or so the captain came on to tell us the decision. He spoke as if this was a hair brained scheme that he, air traffic control, and Leslie Neilson had put together. He started with "Ok, here is what I am thinking" not the reassuring words you look to here from a captain. His plan was that we would attempt a landing. However if he decided to abort he would throttle up the engines, abort the landing and carry on to Brisbane.

Ok, once again words passengers don't want to hear in no particular order:

1:"Ok here is what I am thinking"
2: The use of the word "attempt" in anyway associated with the word "landing"
3: The term "abort" used with the act of landing. (In fact the word "abort" is usually reserved for action movies where someone is screaming it incessantly before everyone dies)

Of course not grasping the real problem of the situation my first reaction was, "but I have a hotel reservation in Sydney, I don't want to go to Brisbane." That sentiment would change soon enough. As we hit probably 5000 feet or so on our decent, all hell broke loose. In a matter of seconds we had gone from the slight, placid, occasional turbulence to the white knuckle, heaving, and shaking associated only with earthquakes and plane situations where people always ended up turning to cannibalism. At one point I remember looking out the window and seeing a taker below us with waves crashing over the bow. Granted at the time it never dawned on me how I could see a tanker below us when I was sitting on the wing, but that should give you an idea movement of the aircraft. The wind was so strong that you could see it ripping across the water.

(I realize that this picture is hard to see, but know that the white in the middle, below the clouds is water in distance being blown as it approaches the shore.)

The plane began to toss, shutter, and groan like no other aircraft I had been on. Now I realize that many planes have been landed in similar conditions, and landing on the back an aircraft carrier is far more difficult, but I respond that probably a few handed made it so safely and last I check this wasn't and F-18. Needless to say I was terrified. Its ok to feel like the bottom has just dropped out when you are at 20,000 feet, but when you get that feeling and the bottom is not that far below you an whole new dimension was added. The wings lifting and dropping as much as the nose and tail. As we hit every air pocket that must had dropped a hundred feet or so a collective yelp, with a few screams would come out of the passengers. The engines were throttling forward and back constantly, and at any point it felt as if the aircraft may roll over. Needless to say I wanted to take the option to go to Brisbane at this point more than anything in my life.

We slowly began to approach Sydney airport, and on one of out turns I noticed what looked like a 737 landing a few miles ahead. This was not as happy a scene for me as you may think. I began to ponder the bravado of most pilots I have met, and the idea that this guy might try and land just because the guy in front of him could crossed my mind.



As we approached the factor between instant drops in altitude to distance to the ground became more and more of an issue. The woman across the isle from me was in tears holding onto her husband for dear life. I was expecting the captain to abort the landing at any second. There seemed no way that we would be able to land in this wind, even having scene another aircraft do it a few minutes before. Lower and lower we went. The fact that you approach Sydney's runway over water in someways made me feel better because if we hit that maybe would would survive. And before I knew it there was land a few hundred feet below us. And then we would hit another down gust and the land would come closer than we wanted, engines would flare up, higher we would go, then lower. At this point the crosswind could also be seen by the amount the wings were moving forwards and back. For a few seconds we seemed to hover just above the ground, and then CRASH!!! we hit the ground with what seemed to be nose wheel first, then left then right. The brakes came on, and came on hard. The passengers began to applaud and cabin gave sign of relief and finally all let go or the armrests. As the captain came on to welcome us to Sydney the passengers applauded again. However I was in store for one more surprise before I got off the flight. As we turned onto the taxi-way, I could see the fire engines backing away from the end of the runway. Nice!!!!
Once I got off the plane, when through customs (which was really quick because I got to say I was on a farm in the last 30 days and was whisked off to a short line where they looked at my boots and sent me on my way.), I made my way to the information desk to find out how to get to downtown Sydney. To shorten the story I found the bus. It was out side hurricane winds. Twice natives from Sydney told me they had never seen wind this strong. In fact they had stopped and diverted all aircraft from landing, and taking off till the morning. Hundred were trapped in the domestic terminal, because the winds were so hard facing their aircraft that the baggage handlers couldn't get the items off the plane. I can only guess that the direction of the wind didn't affect the international terminal as much.
The ride into town was also note worthy. At one point we had to drive around a downed tree. Stop at many lights that were out, and at one intersection a trash came flying by hitting the ground just briefly enough to catch a corner and begin spinning like a throwing star. This was crazy!
I finally arrived at the hotel. The driver asked me to cross the street so that he didn't have to turn around, but thats what you get for an $8 bus ride. The lobby of the hotel looked good enough. the hotel was right on the corner of Chinatown, and this was very evident by all the advertisements and people outside the hotel. I had booked this hotel over the internet where it was described as a boutique hotel. Wow, their idea of boutique hotel was very different from mine. Yes granted it was cheap, and you get what you pay for but take a look at my room. (And this was the upgraded one after I complained about the tim roof having come dislodged and sounding similar to someone hitting it every half second with a sledgehammer.)


But after today, all I wanted was a good meal and a bed. With half of that taken care of, I walked into China town and went to the only restaurant I knew about, the Golden Century. I ordered Salt and Pepper Shrimp and Pineapple and Chicken Fried Rice. OHHHHH SOOOO GOOOD! This really is some of the best chinese food I have ever eaten in my life. With that I called it a night.

Posted: Mon - August 25, 2003 at 12:32 AM        

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