Scared of Flying?

My very first flight was on a prop plane that resembled a cereal box with wings. I can still remember the Irish Stewardess reassuring me with her smiley emerald eyes during take-off.

‘This flying lark is easy,’ I thought …

Half-way to London, we hit severe turbulence and an almighty thunderstorm. The plane was struck repeatedly by lighting bolts and the stewardess wasn’t smiling any more. Her face had turned the same green as her uniform and some of the passengers were crying!

Placing my head between my legs and searching desperately for the lifejacket, there was a heavy thud and I was jolted forward. We were in the Irish Sea! The Captain’s voice came on the tannoy …

“Welcome to London Heathrow everyone. Sorry it was a wee bit turbulent. Little bit of a storm there. Have a nice day!”

After this experience, I developed a fear of flying which continued for many years. When I flew to St Lucia to get married, It took two double whiskey’s just to get me on the plane and another five during the flight. By the time I got off I was paralytic!

Then one day in work, I mentioned to a colleague called Stuart, that I was going to be flying home to Belfast to see my family. Unbeknown to me however, he was a light aircraft pilot and had connections to the commercial airline I was flying with.

So a few days later, sitting on the plane and preparing my miniature bottle of Jack Daniels for take off, the captains voice came over the tannoy …

“Do we have a Simon A. on the plane? If your name is Simon A. and you have a friend at work call Stuart R, then please make yourself known to the air steward!”

‘Oh god what has he done!’ I reluctantly raised my hand.

Within minutes, I was strapped into a chair behind the pilot of a commercial jet and preparing for take off!

How the hell I let this happen to me I have no idea. I guess I didn’t have the heart to say I was terrified at the time, or just couldn’t speak through fear. The co-pilot turned to me …

“You’re privileged today Simon. This is William’s very last day as a commercial pilot. He’s retiring after forty years of service.”

‘Of course it is,’ I thought. ‘He’s probably got a heart problem too!’

‘Old Willy’ pushed the throttle forward with his arthritic hands and I was G-forced into my chair. Before long we were cutting though the clouds and ice particles were smacking the windshield. He turned on the wipers …

“Oh. They’re just like my car wipers!” I said in a nervous voice.

The co-pilot then started fiddling with numerous buttons on the ceiling and I asked him what he was doing. I wished I hadn’t!

“Oh, that’s just the anti — icing system to stop the wings and engine from freezing up.”

“Ahh … great … thank God!” I replied.

After twenty minutes at 30,000 ft, we began descending towards my Belfast homeland. If you have never been in the cockpit of a plane before, you probably don’t realise how steep they point down towards the ground when coming into land. It felt like I was taking part in a kamikaze run! Then I started thinking about the pilot. It was his last day after all. Maybe he had lost the plot!

“Is it normal to land with the nose pointing straight down like this?” I nervously laughed.

“Well, not always actually” Old Willy replied. “The low-cost airlines like us to descend quicker to save fuel.”

‘That’s why my kids are always bloody screaming on the way down,’ I thought. ‘The quick change in air pressure is practically pulling out their eardrums!’

A few moments later we bounced along the runway and I was thrown forward into my seat belt. The co-pilot announced Old Willy’s retirement over the tannoy and I could hear the applause of the passengers. It was a happy moment for him and I think he had a tear in his eye (or perhaps it was Glaucoma!)

I shook both pilot's hands and felt for my miniature bottle of Jack Daniels in my pocket. I was down safe and sound. ‘I’ll keep it for the return journey!’ I decided.

Originally published at https://medium.com/never-stop-writing/are-you-scared-of-flying-22f97332c2a9