Cockpit Chronicles: Caracas and New York

by Kent Wien on

Being the only pilot on reserve, I figured I’d be getting a call to fly over the weekend. Sure enough, Camille called on Thursday to tell me I’d be departing at 6:30 the next morning. It was a new sequence that I hadn’t flown yet. They took away our Panama City and Caracas trip and replaced it with a Caracas and New York layovers.

While I wasn’t really itching to fly to Caracas again, the idea of a day in Manhattan sounded like fun. We seem to get N.Y. layovers every year or two for a few months at a time.

John K. was the Captain and he was yet another one of the Boston pilots I enjoy flying with. I know I’m constantly pointing out how nice it is to fly with the Captains I’m paired up with, but I sincerely believe that Boston has the most good-natured group of pilots at the company. I have no scientific proof of that, but I’m sticking with it.

John and I had a great time in Paris a year ago, when he showed me that some bread, cheese and wine at the local grocery store can be the perfect way to enjoy Paris on a summer evening. So I knew we could find something interesting to do in New York.

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He gave me the early morning leg down to San Juan, Puerto Rico. The sun was just coming up while we were waiting our turn to takeoff, affording a good opportunity to snap a shot of an airplane crossing the path of the rising sun.

Four hours later we were on approach to Puerto Rico. In the past, when you landed on runway 10 (pronounced “one-zero”) in San Juan, it would feel like you were about to lose a few fillings in your teeth. After a construction period that lasted at least a year, we were ready to give the freshly-restored runway a try. For whatever reason they used the more expensive concrete instead of asphalt on the runway this time and the results were excellent. There’s one less thing I can blame a poor landing on.

When you sign into the computer in operations at the beginning of every trip, it tells you how many hours you have on the type of airplane you’re flying and the number of landings you’ve made. The records indicated I had 2994 hours. I did the math and realized that I’d be reaching 3000 hours just after we took off from Miami on our way to Caracas. I figured I’d note the time and celebrate to myself after we leveled off.

John was explaining to me about the ‘issues’ he had with some beavers that had taken over his pond. He now has an otter that has been feasting on the fish. The image in my mind of an otter clearing out John’s half frozen pond of largemouth bass was all I needed to completely forget about my little milestone until the next day. The only way to properly celebrate the moment would have been to snack on some mixed nuts. I guess I’ll have to wait until 5000 hours now.

John flew the leg into Caracas. We’ve been landing there for the past few months only at night, so it was nice to have a chance to see it in the daytime. But I was a bit surprised at the smog that was coming from a series of smoke stacks along the shoreline. After we landed it took a while to get used to the smoke in the air.

After a quick nap, we met at the hotel pool before eating at the restaurant a few feet away. This is pretty much the only option, as we’re ‘encouraged’ not to leave the hotel. I had my favorite ‘pizza margarita’ and John had a steak. It almost seems like the prices had doubled since the last time we were there. I can’t remember what I paid before, but the pizza and an iced tea were $17.

The next morning I was checking my emails through the painfully slow internet connection when I got a message that my card had been ‘frozen.’ It seems the account was flagged with “unusual activity” just because I used it in Venezuela. I’m sure the fraud department at credit card companies must really wonder about a card that might see use in Panama one day, Venezuela later that night and then Miami or Boston the next day. I frantically tried to log into the banking website, but I could only load a page or two before the browser stopped responding.

Pickup was at 7 a.m, which was an improvement over the 3 a.m. wake-up time the day before. We made it through Miami and landed at LaGuardia by 2 in the afternoon. John made a perfect landing in the howling wind aboard the U.S.S. LaGuardia. (A nickname referring to the short runway surrounded by water just east of Manhattan.)

I had recently seen Nathan Lane on the Jon Stewart Show plugging his latest Broadway comedy, November. For a moment, I pondered the feasibility of flying down to N.Y. from Boston with my wife just to catch this show. I immediately came to my senses when I thought through the logistics involved in even a short outing like that. Not to mention the cost of a New York city hotel.

It hadn’t even dawned on me that I might find myself in New York just a few days later. I told John about the play and I could tell he wasn’t so sure about spending the $80 to see this play. I convinced him that we could find a good deal at the TKTS booth in Times Square. He was up for it.

The TKTS booth has temporarily moved to the Marriott at Times Square. Fortunately I looked up the TKTS entry on Wikipedia which mentioned that they only take cash. After convincing my bank in person that I wasn’t an international credit card thief, I was able to take some money out.

Amazingly, ‘November’ is one of the plays that’s available at the booth, even on a Friday night. It payed off to get the booth early, since some of these shows are sold out months in advance, and often the TKTS booth has only leftover or returned tickets. After we picked up our discounted tickets, we went to Johns favorite place to eat–appropriately enough called ‘John’s’.

‘John’s Pizzeria’ is located in a converted theatre. I couldn’t resist trying out the margarita pizza, even if I had it the night before in Caracas. I didn’t regret a single bite.

We had plenty of time before the play, so what else is there to do in New York city? Visit one of the city’s most famous landmarks; the Apple Store on 5th Avenue of course! John and I played with the super thin and feather light Macbook Air a bit before walking to the theatre on 47th street.

We had no idea if the seats we were given were any good. I figured they’d be ‘obstructed view’ seats or something way in the back. We were rather shocked that they were 11th row orchestra (floor) seats perfectly aligned in the center of the theatre. Not bad for 35% off.

‘November’ is a play about a fictitious U.S. president, played by Nathan Lane, who is universally disliked by the people. He’s not ready to leave after his first term, but he’s completely out of money to continue his campaign. So he manages to blackmail the turkey industry by threatening to pardon every turkey before Thanksgiving unless the industry group coughs up $200 million for his campaign.

The best line of the show: “I’m thinking of a number so high, dogs can’t even hear it.”

We had a lot of laughs and John and I both gave it a solid 8 out of 10. Hopefully I’ll fly some more of these trips to sample some other plays in N.Y.

Leaving the theater, we marveled at the low clouds that looked as if they were caught on the tops of the buildings. I managed to snap this picture on Madison Avenue. We were almost expecting the “Bat Sign” to illuminate on the clouds at any moment.

The next morning those same clouds had reached the ground and fog enveloped the LaGuardia airport. To make matters worse, our airplane was located over at JFK and they were waiting on a reserve captain to get to JFK to ferry the airplane to LaGuardia. We were a bit confused as to why they didn’t call us a bit earlier to do the ferry before flying to Miami and then home to Boston. They probably thought that it would be faster to have a reserve pilot called out to bring the airplane over to us. Unfortunately it didn’t work out that way. We left LGA late and tried to make up as much time getting to Miami, but we landed just as a connecting flight to Belize was departing. This meant that ten of our passengers, including a really nice family that visited us in the cockpit while we were parked at the gate in New York wouldn’t make it to Belize until the next day.

We were in a bit of a hurry in Miami while we changed from one plane to another. We refer to this as the “bag drag.” When I got to the next airplane, I realized that I left my aluminum Sigg water bottle in the previous airplane. I knew we didn’t have time for me to run back to retrieve the bottle, and I was resigned to the fact that I had finally lost it. Amazingly, after we closed the door the agent showed up with the bottle, standing on top of a belt loader to get to my window. While the ground crew was still loading a few last minute bags, our incredibly helpful agent managed to toss me the bottle through the window. But it took two attempts:


Fortunately the bottle is well padded in a neoprene casing. After a quick turn in Miami it was back up to Boston. The whole northeast was covered in fog, and as we approached the Logan airport, there were reports of thunderstorms in the area. These are two conditions that don’t usually occur at the same time. The visibility lifted a bit, and the thunderstorms were well off to the west by the time we arrived. Still, the Logan tower reported a wind shear advisory to us while we were on short final. The major airports have equipment that looks for rapidly shifting winds. An alert means you may see a gust of plus or minus ten knots while landing. As ugly as it sounded, we had no issues getting in and we didn’t see any of the gusts that were advertised. Still, it was nice of them to let us know that the possibility existed. Technology has gone a long way to improve the level of safety in this industry.

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Cockpit Chronicles takes you along on each of Kent’s trips as a co-pilot on the Boeing 757 and 767 out of Boston.

The American Girls Revue shows to end after a decade run

by Jamie Rhein on

When my daughter was 3 1/2 she received her first American Girl doll— Bitty Baby, the Asian version. Then came outfits with their accessories. Then came the Just Like You American Girl doll version, the kind where you choose your hair color, eye color and skin tone–Asian. Then when she was nine, we folded and bought Josephina, the Hispanic version. My daughter never asked for anything. It was me. I was hooked. For a brief while, I was the kid who could afford (barely) a bit of the fantasy that American Girl sent my way with each new catalog and as long as my daughter liked her dolls. . .and there was a birthday or Santa Claus.

Alas, childhood is short. My daughter’s interest in her dolls stopped at about age 11. No point in spending the money on those ever so clever outfits with accessories to match even if Josephina’s led us through watered down Hispanic culture of yesteryear through the books that matched the outfits and accessories, and I never got around to buying the Chinese New Year outfit for Just Like You Asian girl. By the time I found out about an American Girl store had opened in Manhattan, my daughter was into the eye rolling phase.

Although Asian girl and Josephina are perched high on a shelf in her bedroom, darling Bitty Baby is in the basement in a box with all her clothes–carefully packed but moved over to make room for other phases in life. The American Girl company is also making room for other things.

The live shows, The American Girls Revue that started in the Chicago store and then was added to the Los Angeles and Manhattan locations are stopping. The L.A. version will close on April 1. The NYC and Chicago versions will close September 1. There’s still some time to see the characters the dolls represent sing, dance and act out aspects of the lives from history the dolls represent. The stores are staying open, and I’m sure out there there are mothers and grandmothers pouring through catalogs savoring those days of childhood. [via Chicago Tribune]

Lack of space in New York? Fuggettaboutit!

by Iva Skoch on

There are a lot of places in the world where renting a apartment for $3000/month gets you a tiny studio–Tokyo, Moscow or London come to mind–but there is probably only one such place in the US. That’s why a lot of people call New York an “island off the coast of the US.” The lack of space makes it seem distinctly un-American.

Just last week, I went to my friend’s place in Chelsea for a “New York-style dinner party”, which comprises of ordering take out food, sitting on the floor while eating it, and, of course, drinking. For illustration, I took this picture, so you can see that we actually had to lay the “buffet table” out in the sink, because there is exactly 6 inches of counter space in an average Manhattan apartment.

I love how the lack of space makes people adjust their needs and be creative about hosting parties or storing stuff. I know people who turn off their fridges and turn it into bookcases, because they have no space to put their books. Others store trash and recycling in their fridges (that way, mice and cockroaches don’t get in.) Oh, the sexy life in New York!

Subway from JFK to Manhattan is looong, but cheap

by Iva Skoch on

While a taxi is the most comfortable way to travel from JFK airport to Manhattan, it isn’t exactly cheap. (Unless, of course, you are traveling from the UK. Then it must seem like a bargain). The trip will set you back a flat fee of $45 plus tip. If you have more than 3 people traveling, it makes sense. New York taxis don’t charge you by the person or by the luggage, unlike some places. (Hello Panama! Hello Rome!)

The good news is, you can take the subway from JFK airport straight into Manhattan for $7. The bad news is, it will take you at least an hour, maybe more during peak times. It is not the smoothest system out there. You first have to take the air train to the subway terminal. Here comes the tricky part, which confuses a lot of people. You have to figure out if you want the Jamaica subway station or Howard Beach subway station.

Here is how I decide: If I have to go downtown Manhattan (south of 14th Street), I take the A train from Howard Beach. If I have to go to midtown or uptown (north of 14th Street), I find the Jamaica Station E train to be faster.

Taking the subway from the airport into the city is a good way to prepare yourself for the urban jungle that awaits you in Manhattan. Most escalators in subways don’t work, so you might find yourself schlepping your bag up 50 stairs. There are other subway joys, such as the turnstiles, which are absolutely incompatible with wheeled bags. Then there is the problem with limited space, which seems to only bother you, not the other 15 people who just squeezed their butts into an already packed train.

When you finally arrive at your hotel (or your friend’s tiny studio), you will be drenched in sweat and the phrase “If you can make it there, you’ll make it anywhere” will take on a whole new meaning. This is when a nice chilled Manhattan comes in handy.

Broome Street, memories of place, and Jaunted’s tribute to Heath Ledger

by Jamie Rhein on

Every day I read Jaunted to see what’s happening over there. Heath Ledger was one of the things happening today (January 23) since blogger Juliana was as floored as I was by his death. Her response was to provide an overview of the places Ledger traveled that formed his life as an actor.

If you spend any time at Gadling, you’ll see the theme of place as well. People who travel have automatic feelers for the qualities of a place that make it unique. In one of Jerry’s post on bookstores, he mentioned The Strand. It’s one of my favorite places to go and just a short walk from where my brother lives. My brother has lived in Manhattan for years and over the years of visiting him, I feel like his neighborhood is somehow mine as well. His friends have also lived there for years also, thus our paths have crossed often, and they have added to my scope of what life is like in New York.

When I step out of the subway stop at Union Square to walk to where my brother lives, it feels as if I’ve arrived home. When Broome Street was mentioned the street where Heath Ledger lived, I thought about the many times I’ve walked down Broome Street to Ted Muehling’s marvelous jewelery shop when it was located in this part of SoHo. Ted has since moved to Howard Street, but I can hear the sound that the metal steps made when I walked up to the door at the Broome Street location.

Close by is the The Guggenheim Museum Soho on the corner of Broadway and Prince, but when Ted’s shop was still on Broome Street, The Museum for African Art was one of my favorite stops in the neighborhood. That museum is now temporarily located in Long Island City, Queens.

When I heard Heath lived on Broome Street, I thought of the post I wrote not too long ago how our lives, travel, and the news intertwine to where each influences the other–particularly when we have a personal connection to a place.

If you’ve been to Anne Frank’s house, read her diary as an eighth grader and felt moved, the chestnut tree has a poignancy, for example. It’s not an abstract, far away thing–something that is “over there” with no consequence to our daily lives. When I read Neil’s post about the plans to cut it down, it felt alarming–as if the stars were shifting. I do know that nothing stays the same, but places do in ones memory unless you revisit them and find them changed.

I haven’t been down Broome Street for a few years or so, but it’s still there and it’s altered. Along with the sound of the metal step, and the taste of the rich piece of chocolate that I chose from the box that was on the table in the back of Ted Muehling’s store, I have other thoughts of Broome Street that I never expected. My memory is not quite the same.