ATW with the Six Pack

Leg 10: KMIA-MUHA

Pilot: Bryan K.

November 30-December 1st, 2004

- “You are early Flyboy”, yelled a familiar voice.

It was “Tom”. He walked out of the hangar, while punching a few keys on his cell phone. At the same time, the doors of the hangar opened, and a crew of six men ran outside. They rapidly hooked up my Conquest to a pushcart, and pulled it inside.

Of course, Tom noticed the look of fear and disbelief that I could not hide from my face.

- “Don’t just stand there, get inside!”, he barked.

I walked inside the hangar at the same time that the huge front doors were closing behind my airplane. I had only one hope: that that botched approach I had just flown would not be my last.

The scene I witnessed once my eyes adjusted to the lights seemed to have come out of a James Bond movie. At least 20 people were working on pc’s and monitoring tv’s. “Tom” seemed to be one of the leaders, and he guided me to a huge map of Cuba that was pinned on one of the walls.

- “This is the situation Flyboy. You should’ve watched who you befriended with, and not yell everywhere you were flying to Cuba. We kinda like your plane, so you will do a little service for the Free World. For the moment, go get some food in the back and sit tight. If you play it smart and stay cool, all will be fine, and in a few months, you will not even remember we met.”

Somehow, I had trouble believing that. I kept staring at my Conquest, while I tried to eat (and digest) a cold burrito. Tom disappeared in a side room, but I didn't feel like doing anything stupid. A latino kid that must not of been more than 14 came to see me, and offered me a Coke. “Gracias”, was my only reply.

“Tom” came out of the office about an hour later. He introduced me to “Paul”, a giant who probably played on the offensive line of the Dolphins in a former life.

- “Good afternoon Mr. Kirk, and thanks for stopping by”, he said in a voice way too soft for a man his size.

- “I hope Tom was not too hard with you. Here’s the situation. Our little outfit here needs to get some people and some gear into Cuba. We heard about your recent “misfortune” and figured you were just the right guy to pull it off.”

- “You have to be kiddin’. There must be hundreds of guys looking for a quick buck out there that would do this. Why me?”, I asked, hoping Paul could shed some light on all of this.

- “Sorry, but it’s you we want. Here’s the deal. Tomorrow morning, you are gonna fly some of my men and some gear into Jose Martin International Airport. We have a few collaborators in the tower at MUHA, and you will have about a 30 minute window to approach, land, unload, and takeoff again before the locals realize what’s going on. You’ll have to avoid Cuban radars while approaching the island, and observe strict radio silence until about 5 miles from the airport. Once in that range, the Cuban co-pilot who will help you out will contact the tower, and they will give you your landing instructions. Our guys will only be in the tower for only 30 minutes, so you can’t screw up.”

- “How the hell am I suppose to avoid radars and ATC?”, I protested.

- “By flying low and blind Flyboy”, Tom answered right back. “You will have to stay under 800’, with all radios and navaids turned off. You’ll leave Miami for a nice scenic flight towards Key West, and you will vanish while approaching the airport. We have a “friend” there who will note your landing, and no one will ever notice that you vanished.”

- “That’s suicide!! The Cubans will see me coming miles away.”

- “Just shut up and fly the plan. The rest is not yours to decide”, Paul answered back. “If you play this smart, you’ll be back flying your little ATW thing in a few days, and you’ll actually have more money to do it.”

Somehow, I had trouble believing that!

- “Now, try to relax a bit. Tom will keep you company for the afternoon. We also have a few bunks in the back. You might as well catch all the sleep you can!” Paul said, before returning to the side office.

Tom guided me to a table at the back, where he had the most recent timetable for MUHA.

- “Bottom line, we need to land when traffic will be at the lightest. MUHA is not the busiest of airports anymore, but there is still a good flow of traffic.”

I decided at that moment that the only way for me to get out of this, was to play along and do the damn flight. As the traffic was screaming up and down the runways at KMIA, I opened another Coke, and started studying the maps and timetables on the work desk.

For the first time since 6:15 this morning, luck seemed to be on my side. Turns out Wednesday was not a very busy day at MUHA, and we had a good window of opportunity to land safely at around 11:00am, the next day. That’s if the scheduled flights arrived, and departed, on time. And that I didn’t get blown out of the sky by a surface-to-air missile!

I spent most of the night studying the maps of the area surrounding Havana, and the different approach plates. I would not have two chances to make this work. What bugged me the most was the weather. Early morning forecast would have been perfect, with low visibility in Havana and a low ceiling over the Straights of Florida. But we were scheduled to leave around 10:00, and that meant: sun, low wind, and great visibility for any patrolman to watch me come in… wave… and shoot!!

As the evening progressed, “Tom” also became friendlier with me. He was treating me more and more like an ally, instead of a hostage. I also spent as most time as I could observing the people working in the busy hangar. No way was this a clandestine operation. The equipment, the “language” used, the professionalism, this spelled “g-o-v-e-r-n-m-e-n-t”. Whatever “company” Tom and Paul worked for, I was convinced that it had the blessings of some higher powers.

At around midnight, Tom and I reviewed our entire plan for the next morning:

- My Conquest would be fuelled to a 70% capacity, and I would be travelling with my yet to be introduced co-pilot, and five passengers, including Tom. We would request take-off for a VFR flight to Key West at 9:30, and hopefully be in the air by 10:00. While descending towards KEYW, I would turn off all lights, radios and navaids, and we would then proceed, at under 800’ MSL, towards the Cuban coast, and Havana.

- Tom’s “collaborators” were expected to be in the control tower at MUHA from 10:45 to 11:15. That left no room for mistake.

- I would then takeoff from Havana with my co-pilot, Tom, and the other passengers. From there we would fly to MUCU (Santiago del Cuba). Tom had informed me that all the airport staff there (except the director) was on the “payroll”. It was the same with the local military commander. Our flight would be “logged” as a charter flying French tourists to the eastern part of the island. Since both the departure and arrival would be “controlled” by “employees”, this one would be quite easier.

- The only issue was that we HAD to be landed in MUCU by 13:00 at the latest, since the director came in the work at that time. Upon landing, may airplane would be hidden behind a hangar in a far corner of the terminal.

- The director usually left the airport at 20:00, so I would then proceed to MKJS (Montego Bay, Jamaica). Once landed, an official from the airport authority (also on the payroll) would note my landing as a charter arriving from the Cayman Islands.

Sure sounded like a good plan. Only problem was, this was not a movie… And I was the one flying the plane!

Wednesday, December 1st, 2004

- “Wake up Flyboy”, Tom yelled at 6:30. “Damn, it was not a bad dream”, was the only smart answer I could think of.

- “Nope. It’s time to fly…”

With the same attitude I had noticed the night before, Tom started explaining me that his “company” flew these little operations about twice a month. The timing was always determined by when and where their Cuban contacts were working.

- “Today should go fine. We’ll be controlling the tower in MUHA, and the airport staff and military command in MUCU. The only problem will be the military in the area around Havana. That’s why you’ll need all your skills to get us in there low… and quick.”

- “Hey, it’s just another day at the office”, I replied, trying to make myself laugh.

One of the “employees” brought us the latest weather forecast. Yup, ideal conditions for a nice VFR flight along the Keys. Too bad I instead had to go duck radars and hide from missile boats!

- “Flyboy, meet Teresa, your co-pilot”, said Tom. I turned my head, and…. Almost lost my balance!

- “Come on! You’ve seen a woman pilot before”, laughed out Tom. “She’s a Cuban exile that helps us out from time to time. She’ll sweet talk your Conquest right down the centerline in MUHA. She also knows all the surrounding area, which should help you out a lot.”

- “Gooood morrrrning Senor Captain”

- “Howdy!” Howdy!… Did I just tell her howdy?

- “Muchos gracias for helping us today. It is quite honourable of you.”

- “Well…. Heu… Thank you!”. Well… Heu… Thank you! Come on man focus!

After the initial shock of meeting Teresa, I quickly ran for a coffee and some doughnuts, and we then started reviewing the flight plan that me and Tom had prepared last night.

As the daily activities of a busy KMIA were starting outside, Tom and Paul kept making calls on secure phones to their contacts in Cuba. Seemed like everything was going according to plan, and that everyone would be at the place they needed to be… and the time they should be!

While they continued with the planning phase of the “delivery”, I worked on getting the Conquest ready, and explaining the panel and controls to Teresa. She seemed to know her way around a flight deck, so that calmed me a bit.

At 9:00, Paul closed his phone and said: “It’s a go! Let’s get that plane outside”.

Within a minute, at least ten of the staffers left their pc’s and started working on my Conquest.

By 9:30, the plane was in position and ready to go, so I started the engine… and hoped for the best!

I contacted Miami Ground and was (why was I surprised!) quickly cleared to taxi to runway 9L. The wait was short, as we all watched an ATR-72 take-off ahead of us.

At 9:45 sharp, we were airborne. And for the first the time in my “flying” life, I didn’t feel the usual thrill I do while climbing up. I did notice that Teresa did know her way on the flight deck, as she performed the checklist with a surprising efficiency.

I tuned the nav radio to the EWY VOR (Key West), and levelled off at 6000’. Everyone was quiet aboard, and I could fell the anticipation. My main concern was the clock. I had to pace my Conquest so we would hit the Cuban coast at the right moment. From taking-off in Miami to being in sight of MUHA, I had one hour. My plan was to do a slow descent and approach to Key West, to kill off some time. After that…

Here’s a last look at Miami.

In a short time, Key West International Aiport was in sight, and I contacted the tower for my approach instructions. I started descending at a slow pace of 1000 fpm to enter the traffic pattern.

It was now time to disappear. I turned south, killed all the lights, killed the radios, and descended to 800’. I heard Teresa whisper what seemed to be a prayer in Spanish, while Tom was… snoring in the back! I continued descending, while keeping a close… very close… look at the sea, and levelled off at a dangerous 600’.

The clock was ticking fast, and I had to slow down if I didn’t what to land in Havana and be greeted by Castro himself. Teresa was occupied scanning the horizon, and didn’t notice how fast we were approaching her homeland. Not long after that, I spotted the Cuban coast for the first time.

The entire success of this “delivery” was based on timing. Jose Marti International Airport is located close of the coast, so the drill was for me to rapidly climb once we were “feet dry” and quickly line-up for landing. All of that would happen in a five minute window!

At 10:45, we were hitting the coast and were about 5 minutes out of MUHA! Tom’s secure satellite phone rang at that precise moment and his people were in place! I quickly raised the nose while Teresa started spotting for the runway and talking with the tower.

With a just slight breeze to manage, I easily line-up for runway 24 and eased back on the throttle, while lowering the gear and the flaps. This approach had to happen fast!

We landed with no problem, at 10:48. Teresa pointed at a building that was close to the end of the runway, and some distance away from the tower. That would be our drop-off area.

At 10:53, I engaged the parking brake, and killed the engines… We had 22 minutes left.

To be continued….