Continuing Ed

The U.S. Coast Guard, of course

Jerry looked down from our 11,000-foot perspective and studied the barren, mountainous island passing slowly under us. Then he shifted his focus back to the map on his lap. We were flying just east of the Windward Passage, a short chute of deep water that separates Cuba from Hispaniola (Haiti and the Dominican Republic). We had just flown over a peninsula that forms the northern boundary of the Haitian mainland, and this island was the last bit of land before crossing more open water to the Turks and Caicos Islands and our destination airport, Providenciales.

After a moment Jerry announced our position. "That's the Ile de la Tortue," he said, pointing down. Now I'm not up on my Spanish, but the combination of Jerry's ominous inflection, my overactive imagination, and Haiti's reputation as one of the poorest and most mysterious lands in the western world, sure made it sound as if we were looking down upon the Island of Torture. Thank goodness the Twin Comanche's two IO-360 engines were purring smoothly - if we had to make a forced landing I would have aimed for open water rather than risk finding out whether the island got its name for good reason.

Jerry and I laughed about the island's name, but the underlying message wasn't lost on us. A forced landing is one thing when it occurs on the U.S. mainland. It's quite another if it happens over open water outside U.S. territorial waters.

If that's true, why would anyone other than Charles Lindbergh be piloting a small airplane over open water outside U.S. territory? Take a look at a map of the Western Hemisphere. Now, take note of all the great sub-tropical and tropical foreign destinations that are accessible by private aircraft in the Gulf of Mexico, Caribbean, and the Bahamas Islands area, and you'll understand why.

We were on just such a trip. We had launched from Key West, Florida, as one of 129 aircraft participating in the 1998 Cayman Caravan (see "Cayman Caravan", April 1998). Caravan aircraft fly south in a group from Key West, over Cuba, and then on to Owen Roberts International Airport in Georgetown on Grand Cayman for several days of sun, scuba diving, snorkeling, and sightseeing.

After a few days on Grand Cayman we left the Caravan and headed east on our own for Providenciales, with a fuel stop in Montego Bay, Jamaica. Grand Cayman to Provo is nearly 700 miles of mostly open water. Our best defense against a forced landing was flying a twin-engine airplane. But if we had to put down in the Caribbean, we at least had an inflatable life raft aboard, and life vests.

Successfully ditching the airplane and getting out with vests and life raft intact is the first step in surviving a forced landing on the water. The second step is getting rescued. If we were to go down anywhere south of Cuba, whether we were near Grand Cayman or Jamaica or Haiti, who would come to rescue us? Do any of those island governments have an effective search and rescue system in place? These are the kind of questions that come to mind as you fly over places with names like Ile de la Tortue.

I got my answer in a restaurant in Provo.

Jerry and I were finishing off a late dinner when we noticed a group of U.S. Coast Guardsmen come in. They sat down and ordered cheeseburgers. We figured they must be from the Coast Guard HU-25 we saw taxi in at the Provo airport while we were clearing customs. After Jerry and I finished eating, we went over and introduced ourselves.

We learned they were from the U.S. Coast Guard's Miami, Florida, Air Station, which is based at Opa Locka Airport just north of Miami. Why was the Coast Guard in Provo, which is located at the southern end of the Bahamian chain of islands? They wouldn't say, other than it was a "special mission." Drug-related surveillance or interdiction, I assumed. They hadn't intended to overnight on Provo, but one of the HU-25's engines had developed a problem, and a spare was being flown in the next day.

An engine problem on a twin turbofan like the HU-25, which is derived from the French-built Falcon 20 business jet, isn't much of a problem. Even if you have to shut the engine down in flight, at worst it would force a deviation to an unplanned destination. Ditching because of an engine problem is just not in the cards for a jet. Not so with a small single-engine airplane, or even a light twin like the Twin Comanche. Search and rescue is a big concern to pilots who fly small airplanes over large bodies of water.

"I've been flying a Twin Comanche around the Caribbean for the last few days," I explained to one of the Coast Guardsman. "I've been on IFR flight plans the whole trip, and I've been talking to controllers based in Grand Cayman; Kingston, Jamaica; Port-au-Prince, Haiti; and nearing the Turks and Caicos, Miami Center. I'm wondering, if we had to ditch somewhere along the way, who would rescue us?"

"We would," they said.

This was excellent news. Given a choice, I'd pick the U.S. Coast Guard to rescue me any day. They, better than anyone, have the equipment, training, communications, and experience to get the job done.

Take the HU-25. It's equipped with special computer area navigation for conducting precise search patterns, large observation windows on each side of the fuselage, a "drop hatch" in the cabin floor, and a winch that rides in a track mounted to the cabin ceiling. Using the winch and drop hatch, Coast Guard personnel can drop a raft, water pump (to a boat taking on water), a buoy containing an electronic beacon, flares, and other emergency equipment to someone stranded on the high seas.

Suppose that someone was me - and Jerry, of course. Suppose I had a problem that made ditching inevitable, whether I was near the Ile de la Tortue or not. What should I do to ensure a search and rescue attempt? Here's what the Coast Guard says:

First, make sure someone is aware of my problem and knows my position. With two GPS units aboard, I can get a precise lat/long fix on my position right up to the point where I ditch. The bigger problem may be communicating with the local ATC facility. Foreign controllers speak English well, but their communications equipment can be unreliable. For example, we weren't able to make contact with Kingston ATC until we were fairly close to the Haitian mainland, and even then they were using an alternate frequency.

But even if I'm having trouble communicating with ATC, I can always broadcast a Mayday that will be heard by any number of aircraft in the air. As long as someone hears my call and gets the coordinates of my position, I can be confident that the information will find its way to someone who can help.

According to Coast Guard officials, it's likely that word of a ditching in the Gulf or Caribbean south of the U.S. will be forwarded on to the U.S. Coast Guard. The Bahamas and Turks and Caicos Islands have effective volunteer search and rescue systems in place, but the Coast Guard may be notified.

The Coast Guard would determine where their closest "resources" are ("resources" could include the HU-25, the HH-60 Sikorsky Seahawk helicopter, the HH-65 Dolphin helicopter, or a ship), and deploy them on the search and rescue mission.

If the mission were launched from Miami, the HU-25 would go first. With a range of 2,000 miles and a top speed of 485 knots, the jet would reach the search area quickly. In the meantime the slower helicopter would launch and make its way to the site.

When the HU-25 reaches the area of the reported ditching, the crew could descend to just a few hundred feet above the water, slow to 130 knots, and begin a precise search pattern based on our last reported position. When a crew member sitting at that large observation window spots us (and they would!) they could hail us using a loudspeaker, and drop equipment and supplies if necessary.

The Falcon crew would notify the chopper crew of our exact position and then loiter overhead until the helicopter arrives to pick us up. With luck we would be plucked from the water within hours of splashing down.

Over-water flying in a small airplane is an excellent adventure, particularly if you're headed for a sun-splashed destination. Knowing that the U.S. Coast Guard is equipped and prepared to search for and rescue you in the event of a ditching sure removes a lot of the "torture" of making the trip.