Waypoints: In support of the Bahamas

Our first contact with the Bahamian controller caused the two of us in the front seats to look quizzically at each other—that RCA dog look. Number 15 for landing. What does that mean? It shouldn’t be long, right? At EAA AirVenture, that would be about five minutes, landing two and three airplanes at a time. At a typical international airport, it might be 15 or 20 minutes. But this wasn’t your usual international airport. It was Lynden Pindling International in Nassau, Bahamas, a few days after Category 5 Hurricane Dorian had brushed by and before it had parked itself over nearby Grand Bahama and Abaco for some 40 hours (“Pilot Briefing: GA Rallies to Help in the Bahamas,” p. 44). You’ve seen video of the destruction—apocalyptic in places.

With a team of relief organizers from Operation 300 on board, our mission was to meet with Bahamian officials to help them understand the needs of GA relief organizations and how we could expedite the usual paperwork and fees required for coming and going to the Bahamas.

Numerous vectors later we were headed west past New Providence Island and toward Andros, followed by other vectors in all directions. The approach control frequency was busy and the traffic display alive with all types of aircraft. A Cessna Caravan on floats whizzed by us, a thousand feet below our 4,000-foot assigned altitude.

Thirty minutes after first contacting approach, we were number 13 for landing. This was going to be an ordeal. About 30 minutes later, we were cleared for the approach and were soon clearing customs at the Odyssey Aviation FBO. The ramp was full of airplanes and helicopters of all types; the FBO lobby stuffed with relief workers looking to move to areas in need, and individuals and families attempting to get out of the country. Six of us piled into two cars for the trip to the government buildings.

I quizzed the woman driving us about conditions in Nassau when the storm passed by. “Oh, this street we’re on, it was flooded,” she said with that lovely Bahamian accent. “You couldn’ get through.” Standing water on both sides of the street indicated it had cleared only recently.

“And the wind?” I asked

“Oh, not bad. Eighty with gusts to hundred or so.”

Clearly, we were from different parts of the world! Eighty knots—or miles per hour—would send most of us into panic mode.

A few minutes later we were in the office of the minister of health, who was tasked with overseeing the humanitarian efforts on the affected islands. He was receptive to our requests, but said he was not in a position to make the decisions necessary to simplify flight or maritime operations. He promised, though, to relay our needs to others in the cabinet and the prime minister.

We knew it would be difficult to get immediate and concrete decisions; bureaucracies don’t work that way, especially in times of crisis. One of our passengers stayed behind to attempt to meet with staff members close to the deputy prime minister. Meanwhile, we headed back to the FBO, now even more packed with relief workers anxious to get to their assignments.

Wait time to pick up IFR clearances back to the States—or anywhere else—was something more than two hours, according to those pacing around the FBO. One of our passengers had a connection to a Coast Guard admiral and after a phone call by him, miraculously our clearance became available. Although the airport infrastructure at Nassau was undamaged by the storm, the pace of arrivals and departures—now after dark—was slow. I’m told that even during normal operations the airport only allows one arrival every 10 minutes. We taxied in a long line of airliners and GA airplanes and after another 30 minutes, finally launched for Stuart, Florida, where CBP agents stayed late to clear us—and were friendly to boot.

I met with U.S. Customs and Coast Guard officials the next day along with relief organizations in an effort to also educate them about the needs and capabilities of GA airplanes. AOPA President Mark Baker was also on site in Florida, fielding dozens of calls a day and hosting a twice-daily conference call with various government agencies and relief groups to coordinate efforts.

Within a few days flight operations improved, but also about then the larger airports opened up and big military and relief airplanes, as well as ships, began delivering supplies en masse. At this writing GA flights continue into select remote areas, carrying specialty relief workers and supplies.

Rebuilding will take years. You can help now by taking your GA airplane to the Out Islands farther south, which were mostly undamaged. The resorts there will welcome your visit and the money you spend will help support a struggling country.

Email [email protected]
@tomhaines29