By Rick Polinsky
My wife and I decided to buy a seasonal condo in Freeport, Grand Bahama Island (MYGF), when we had our Socata Trinidad so we could experience international living with just a short 40-minute overwater flight from Fort Lauderdale Executive (FXE).
However, since my overwater flight experience was limited to crossing rivers and lakes, we both took the FAA Survival Course in Oklahoma City, prepared our “ditch bag” with emergency gear, wore inflatable life jackets that I thought would be sufficient because of the warm ocean water, and read everything AOPA ever published about flying to the Bahamas.
Fortunately, during one of our visits, a new neighbor who was also a pilot asked us if we carried a life raft. When I replied “no” he insisted on taking us to Pier One Restaurant in Freeport where they ring a bell during dinner and throw food scraps in the ocean off the deck to feed the sharks. After watching the feeding frenzy and hearing beef bones crunching, we immediately realized the danger of ditching in the ocean without a life raft. My wife ordered one, hoping it was something we would never use.
On one memorable return flight, only two of the three green landing gear lights were visible when we dropped the gear inbound to Freeport. The starboard light was dark. My wife asked, “Just how serious is it?” I told her the gear may collapse, causing a prop strike, and make the airplane skid slightly out of control.
I verified that the unlit bulb was good and tried the Trinidad emergency procedures, which proved ineffective. The Freeport tower could not confirm if all the wheels were down, and since Fort Lauderdale was more desirable to deal with an emergency, I made a U-turn back and asked ATC to let them know we were unable to confirm if the right main gear was down and locked.
The tower cleared all traffic as we approached Fort Lauderdale, and then cleared us to land on Runway, 9, where we saw emergency vehicles lined up and realized the gravity of our situation when the tower asked, “How many souls are on board?” I realized that the wind was 40 degrees from the right. This would require our touchdown on the potentially problematic gear, so I refused their instruction and requested the 4,000-foot-long Runway 13 that was directly into the wind. The nose was high as we softly touched down, and miraculously the right gear did not collapse.
Airport personnel were anxious to tow us off the runway, but I insisted that they first secure the right gear in case it was not locked down. They complied, and this avoided any aircraft damage since the gear was down, but it turned out that a small gear-locking pin was missing. The A&P mechanic surmised that the gear had not collapsed because the hydraulic pump continued running during the entire nose-high landing. Fortunately, Socata’s U.S. office was nearby in Pembrook Pines, and they removed this tiny pin from a spare Trinidad gear assembly they had in inventory, allowing the A&P to repair the gear the next day so we could return home.
When my wife learned that this tiny pin cost $700, that began our mutually agreeable policy that repair stations never discuss costs in front of her, and it has been happy flying ever since.