Leg 23: SVCP-SVCB
Pilot: Bryan K.
We rapidly prepared our flight plan to Ciudad Bolivar, located on the shores of the Orinoco River. The flight would take us through the Monagas and Anzoategui regions of northern Venezuela. This did not appear to be a very busy airspace, but I wanted to stay below 18 000’, and avoid controlled airspace.
Teresa contacted flight services, and then told me we would have a good tailwind all the way to Bolivar Airport. Cloud cover was a bit low at destination, but more than enough to land safely.
With the soldiers in the tower and Colonel Salazar supervising our departure, we had no formalities to deal with. We taxied up the runway and I turned the Conquest 180 degrees for takeoff on runway 17. That would force me to make a steep climb (no problem for this airplane) and a rapid turn to avoid the surrounding mountains. At 12:20 local time, 30 minutes after we arrived, we left General Bermudez airport
I set our climb rate to 2200 fpm, more than my usual 1800 fpm rate, but still well within the limits of the C441. I turned to a heading of 228, and followed a small valley while climbing out of any potential trouble in no time.
Since we had decided to fly VFR and with the less possible contact with ATC, Teresa monitored the comm. radios closely. It was not a difficult task, since the airwaves were very quiet. We settled in a 17 500’, and Teresa decided to take care of the navigation.
- “I do hope you will be able to have some peace again soon”, she mentioned after more than 30 minutes of silence. “I am sure this was not how you envisioned this adventure of yours.”
- “I knew I would be flying into the unknown, but this is a bit more than I expected. I think I am gonna pull the plug and just find a commercial flight back home. I am sure Tom will find a way to get my plane back to me one day. The more I think of it, the more I think this is just a bit too much for me!”
- “No Bryan. You must continue. I do not want to be rude, but you are not calling the shots anymore. Air America is not an organization you can just walk away from. They can find you anywhere.”
- “You seem to be forgetting I almost lost my life in Puerto Rico. Damn, I think I actually left some ‘parts’ of me over there!”
- “And it will probably not be the last time it happens. For now, your part of the operation is to help us nail the guys who used you. After that, we’ll just see.”
- “So basically, there’s just no options left for me? What if I disappeared? Why don’t you help me?”
- “I will try to forget we had this discussion”, she said abruptly. And so the rest of the flight remained silent, as I followed our course on the Garmin 530.
We were about 20 minutes out of Ciudad Bolivar when Teresa suggested we start our descent. We could not see much trough the thick cloud cover, but I could peek at the mighty Orinoco in the distance. Teresa tuned the radio to the local ATIS frequency only so we could find out visibility was just above 5 nautical miles, and cloud base at 1300’ over SVCB. Still descending, I started reducing the throttles and extending the flaps as Ciudad Bolivar was coming into view.
Bolivar Tower had just cleared us to land on runway 12 when I realized I did not have a visual on the runway, and was instead lining up to some lighting source I had wrongly identified! Teresa seemed to pick up on that, and started to look outside to spot the airport. The plane was much clumsier to handle since I was now in full landing configuration.
- “There, to the right! We are a bit too low!”, she shouted over the intercom.
I also got a visual of the runway, and increased the throttles so I could gain a bit of altitude to line-up with the runway, while turning to the right.
We landed at Bolivar Airport at 13:07 local time (and quite well I will add), and were instructed to taxi towards a quiet section of the airport, far from the terminal.
Two men were waving at us, so I guided the Conquest towards them. At 13:10, I shut down the engines and we climbed down the stairs. As we did so, I heard Teresa whisper a prayer in Spanish, probably hoping (just like me) that they were “friends of Tom”.
To be continued.