Hester's Head

This is the story of the return flight. I'm typing like a praying mantis because the seat in front of me is reclined and my laptop does not fit between the seat back and me. The laptop makes a 'V' in my lap, not an 'L'.
There is only one bad thing about living in Victoria. It's on an island. I'm not exactly sure why I booked my return flight out of Vancouver, but I did. Maybe I thought it would be cheaper. My flight out of Vancouver was at 2. That meant getting up at 6:30 to ensure I could make it 60 miles in 7 1/2 hours. With some time to spare, but not a lot. I had to take a ferry, which meant getting to the ferry and getting from the ferry to the airport. Neighbour Mark offered me a ride the day before. I accepted and said I would buy breakfast too. Well... the 11:00 ferry would get me there at 12:30 which left me not much time to get to the airport. That meant taking the 9:00. It's not a long drive from my place to the ferry, maybe 30 minutes, but Mark and I leave at 7:30 so that we can stop somewhere for breakfast and get some coffee. We decide on McDonald's because a real restaurant might take too long. I couldn't argue with that. And I like McDonald's breakfasts. And Mark paid. He twisted my arm or something. Played some hardball. It was good; even the coffee wasn't too bad. Thank you for the ride to the ferry and thank you for breakfast Mark. I'm working on my story of John - it might take me some time. I'm not saying it's long. I'm trying to ensure I don't miss anything and do John some justice. The neighbourhood will be mentioned a few times, John is a big part of that. Mark is part of what is so good about my neighbourhood.
The ferry ride was quite uneventful. I sat in the SeaWest Lounge for the first time. For $10 you get a comfy seat, some that recline, a newspaper, some magazines, all the Starbucks coffee, fruit, and some stuff like danishes and muffins that you could want. And lots of quiet. I will do that again in a heartbeat. Though the two Starbucks coffees had me wired for sound. Dolby THX 3D Surround sound. I was buzzing. We passed several pods of killer whales. I attempted to take some pictures. I won't subject you to them - the wind, shaking, moving ship, etc add up to pictures that look like mist and fog. I was disappointed. Go to Google images and type in "killer whales" and you get the idea. There were more than a dozen in three pods doing their synchronized swimming activity. I said I was sorry for the pictures. I don't know how to add them to my blog anyway.
Wendy and her daughter met me on the far side. It was beyond nice to get a ride to the airport with someone who knew exactly where they were going. No maps, no stops, no second-guessing. We made it there in good time, but would have had very little time to spare if I had caught the 11:00 ferry. But this time I have witnesses to some of the grief I am too often subjected to. We found the US departures no problem, found the Northwest counter no problem. But they sent me straight to Alaska Airlines. Where I tried the easy check-in. Two or three times. Wendy went to check the departures board for my flight number - I hadn't printed out my itinerary or written anything down. I knew my last name and that I was going to Seattle. The computer couldn't resolve the two and told me to get help. I'm not sure how I ended up in the fast lane or if I was even supposed to be there, but I was at the counter quite quickly. It was comforting to hear her say, "You're going to Honolulu?" after looking up my name and not from my prompting. But I couldn't check the duffel bag. You have to carry it through with you to security where you can finally get rid of it. If you're not going through security right away... come back and try again when you're ready. We wandered around for a bit and had some lunch before I went through. I went though the fast lane again, because I liked it so much the first time. I'm still not sure I should be there because the lady who came up behind me was sent back to the long winding line-up. The printer or something jammed and it takes at least five minutes to get the tag for my duffel bag. Wendy leaves me at the front of the duty free shop that I have to walk through to get to security. But they ask to see my customs form. What for? I never bought anything and I'm going to the US, not returning to the US. Doesn't matter, so I go back to the front where I left Wendy and go find the form and fill it out. I get through the duty free shop and get in line to go through the customs. The lady asks for my passport and where I'm staying in Honolulu. I explain to her that I'm returning to my ship, I'm in the Navy.
She looks at me and says, "Canadian Navy?" I can tell she doesn't believe there really is a Canadian Navy.
"Yes."
"Do you have any ID?" She's still holding my passport.
"Do you mean other than my passport?"
She looks at my passport, and then looks at me.
"Yes." With the "enough insolence out of you young man" tone of voice.
So I show her my ID and she lets me carry on. Going through security was a snap. I had to take my shoes off again. But that's Kool and the Gang because I'm still in socks and sandals. The flight to Seattle isn't too bad. I did have to go down an escalator, a long moving sidewalk, and then up an escalator to get to my gate. It was a small plane again so there weren't many people at the gate. When I arrive in Seattle this time the gate I had to get to was in the same terminal I arrived at, so all I had to do was wait three hours. I was almost all by myself, watching the football game and sitting at my laptop. The departures board is in alphabetical order and the flight number for my flight to Honolulu flashes between a Continental flight, a Northwest one, and a KLM one. I think an Alaskan one showed up as well. Who else watches their flight number for several minutes? It was like an illusion, I had to get my ticket out and finally confirm that the Northwest flight number matched what I had on my ticket. The flight is already a few minutes late. I thought my flight was at 5, but turns out I was confused and that was when it was supposed to start boarding. At 4:30 I decide to check on the status of my flight. The big departures board is a mess. Half of it is locked out. A big "Windows 2000 Professional" log-in screen is there saying it's been locked by some staff member. The half of the board that is working started at Lewiston and then London-Heathrow. So I have to go for a walk to find another board. I find the Aitches and there is no Honolulu and no Hawaii. That definitely caused some stress. Is my flight so late that it was cancelled? I didn't have many options so I go looking for help. More people have shown up at the gate and there is some staff there. I ask one guy sitting there if he was going to Honolulu. He was and that was reassuring. A lady nearby put down her cell phone when I told him that Honolulu wasn't on the departures board. As I'm walking to the gate guess who shows up at the same time?
"Are you the pilot?"
"Yes I am."
"Is there a flight to Honolulu today?"
He looks out the window. There's no airplane there.
"I don't know where the plane is but we will get to Honolulu."
"Do you know that Honolulu isn't on the departures board?"
He explained to me that once the plane arrives the turn around time is about 45 minutes. That’s all the time they need to get it cleaned, etc. As I'm walking away, satisfied, he's asking the staff if they knew that the flight wasn't on the departures board.
So far so good on this flight. I'm in the middle seat. The guy on the window seat closed the window only a few minutes into the flight. Probably tired of me looking out it. I'm a little bit behind the window, which is a little bit behind the wing, so all I can see is the wing and I have to lean forward to see anything else. There are little fold-down-thingies on the big fold-down-thingies on the trailing edge of the wing. I can’t tell you much more.
I complement the guy to my left for having the foresight to bring Burger King for dinner. The flight left at 6, I might be the only person who didn’t eat before they got on the plane. I tell him about the dinner from my previous flight and tell him I wish I had thought of bringing something else. He asks if the smell offends me. No way. It smells great and it's making me hungry. Dinner turns out to be the exact same offering as the previous flight. I avoid the turkey sandwich and go with the box lunch. Goldfish crackers, a pepperoni stick, two types of cheese, crackers, some mixed nuts and fruit, and some Chips Ahoy crackers. It wasn't too bad.
The Burger Kind guy just asked me something about the light. He was pointing at the controls on the armrest. I wasn’t sure if he was asking how to get the volume up or down or how to move the channel up and down. I tell him he needs a headset. He asks, "I need a headset to turn on the light?" He was even more incredulous than the lady asking about the Canadian Navy. Oh! Light! I get it now. I turn his light on for him. The window guy looks so comfortable; he's been sleeping since minutes after take-off. Well done my good man, that's a skill worth having. I'm either typing in the fetal position or working on my posture. I'm tired. I went to bed late and was up early. And was up at 1:30 wondering if I had forgot to pack my jacket. The girl looking after my house and pets came home at that EXACT same moment and found Roxy and me looking through the hallway closet to see if I had even brought a jacket home from Hawaii. Standing there in boxers. I'm surprised she didn't leave. Screaming.
Later I get a sign I need to work on my communication skills. Window guy woke up when the flight attendant came by the second time. Burger King had water without ice, I had water with ice. Try to follow window guy:
"Do you have mist?"
The flight attendant says "Pepsi?"
He tries "Do you have Sprite?"
And the flight attendant comes back with, "Sierra Mist?"
"Yes! Yes!"
What the hell?
Must be bridge partners.
1 No trump. Maybe there is something wrong with my hearing?
There's another form to fill out for the Hawaiian Agriculture. There's a long list of things they want to know if I'm bringing into the state. Like a snake? What about the snake in my.... never mind. I don't want to be tossed off the plane just yet. The Pacific Ocean is a long way down. And it's a big ocean. Window guy uses my pen and admires it and uses my seat tray for his water this time while he digs out his Japanese/English (I think) calculator/translator.
To bring my trip to a satisfactory conclusion the pilot bounces the aircraft off the runway twice before landing it. We came down so fast and hard that there was turbulence turbulence turbulence and then 'bang!', we were on the ground. It scared me because I had no idea we were that close to the ground. The two hops were a little disturbing; I had my hands on the seat in front of me.
That reminds me I should get back to my story of John. There are lots of good people in the world - and there are lots of nice things done. Around me and certainly for me. Even by strangers. I think when I start losing faith in the human race that I should take the time and see what nice things have been done for me. Why do I so rarely see them? Or is it that I rarely appreciate them? Today I have to at least thank Mark, Wendy, the pilot and Burger King man. That must mean I've missed quite a few. I should also thank the lady who showed me how to use that milk/creamer chummy-yodeler in the lounge on the ferry. That was cool.
I’m going to get back to John now.