Leg 9: KTPA-KMIA
Pilot: Bryan K.
The ring of my satellite phone made me jump out of bed at 6:15am. After a nice meal with Richard the night before, I had hit the “sack” at around midnight.
- “Mr. Bryan Kirk?”
- “Heu, yes that’s me”, I managed to answer.
- “My name is Richard Wheeler, from the Canadian Consulate in Miami, can we talk?”
- “I guess, you are the guy I am suppose to meet in Miami for my visas for Cuba right?”, I replied, not yet noting the sound of concern in Mr. Wheeler’s voice.
- “Well, we might have a problem. Actually, YOU might have a problem.”
- “Okay, you have my full attention now. What’s goin’ on?”
- “Seems that at least one of your Six Pack colleagues did not make many friends when he went to Cuba recently. The authorities are quite mad, and decided to revoke your visa.”
- “WHAT!!!! You have to be kiddin’ me. This is a pretty sick joke.”
The Canadian diplomat then proceeded to explain that while staying in Havana, one of my colleagues (who shall remain nameless) had a rundown with the local police, and had to fly out of town in a hurry. He then landed unauthorized in Santiago Del Cuba, and stole some fuel before leaving the country in a hurry! Knowing that more Six Packers were coming, the Cuban authorities did not want a repeat of this, and decided to revoke the visas. At least mine!
- “For crying out loud Richard, do something. That’s what diplomats are paid for! I NEED to land in Cuba, it’s part of the challenge.”
- “I MIGHT be able to help, but only to a certain limit. Stay in your room. You’ll get a call in 30 minutes from now.”
Those 30 minutes seemed to last forever. But at exactly 6:45, my phone rang again.
- “Mr. Kirk? My name is Tom, and we have a mutual friend who works in the Canadian Consulate.”
Already, I did’nt like the sound of that.
- “Anyways, looks like we could be of mutual assistance to each other. I also have “something” I need to get to Cuba.”
- “What kinda of something?”, I replied, getting even more worried.
- “Meet me at Buff’s at 7:30 for breakfast. I’ll be the guy in the corner booth”, he quickly said, before hanging up.
I packed my stuff and wondered what the heck I had just gotten myself into. “Tom” did not sound like a diplomat at all, and I was concerned I had already implicated myself too much. But I packed my duffel bag anyways, checked out from the Days Inn, and quickly drove off in my Avis rental.
I found Buff’s pretty quickly, and decided to stay in the car for awhile to check the incoming customers. At 7:25, with no signs of unmarked vans or police cars around, I got out of the Sebring and crossed the street.
The place was packed when I entered. This looked like a favourite “greasy spoon” for the locals. I spotted the corner booth… and was surprised to see a guy that looked like Danny DeVito’s twin sipping a coffee. I guess I was expecting a giant with a dark suit and sunglasses, but this guy had no hair, and was wearing a very bright hawaiin shirt.
- “Bryan, long time no see my friend”, he yelled out as I approached the table.
- ‘Hi Tom”, was the only intelligent thing I could reply.
I ordered two eggs with ham, and quickly sat down. “Looks like your in deep s***t my friend”, Tom said, getting down to business in a hurry.
- “Well, I guess the Cubans decided to pull the plug. Not much I can do about that I guess.”
- Au contraire! Listen, I know all about this pilot pride crap you guys all have, and I am sure you want to land that Conquest of yours into Cuba. You don’t want to look like a looser in front of your other buddies.”
Tom went on explaining that he worked for a “company” that needed to make a “special” delivery in Havana. He would even throw in some money if I accepted to fly in the “cargo”.
This brought back to mind a few “deliveries” I made while I flew my dad’s Beaver a decade ago, in the bush. But this was a long way from the Maniwaki airport!
- “You a forgetting a little detail Tom, I kinda CAN’T land in Cuba anymore”, I reminded him.
- “That can be fixed. Get your butt to Miami as planned. Make sure you make it there before noon. Once landed, request taxi direction to the northwest parking, and go park in front of the only unmarked hangar there. Someone will be waiting for you. And don’t try anything stupid buddy. You were already in trouble when you decide to walk in this restaurant. So get your butt to the airport and fly to Miami… and I’ll see you in Havana!”
What could I reply to that? Tom just picked up his bill and stormed out. I just sat there staring at the wall, and imagining that all the other customers were speaking in mics hidden in their sleeves, and getting ready to pick me up.
Thirty minutes later, I found out in how much trouble I was, when I called the Canadian Consulate and was informed that there was no Richard Wheeler who worked there…
Needless to say, I was quite nervous when I drove up to the Tampa International Jet Service parking, and signed off the return papers of my rental car. My flight plan to Miami had already been filed, and I slowly walked towards my Conquest, who was still at the same spot.
You can imagine my surprise when I climbed aboard and noticed that the full Garmin stack that was supposed to have been installed by Livewire technicians in Miami was now right there in my panel! I quickly asked the attendant, who informed me that two “mechanics” had worked on my plane all night, and had shown all the proper paperwork, including a work order with my signature!
Still shaking my head, I did a quick walk-around and then contacted Miami Clearance for my IFR authorization.
After being cleared for 12 000’ and starting my engines, I received taxi clearance to runway 36R and checked out the ground traffic. Good news, I was first for take-off when I arrived at the hold short line.
The sky was clear and I quickly climbed to 12 000’, while turning towards the southeast.
I levelled off, and flew over KMCF (Macdill Air Force base), located almost in the middle of Tampa Bay.
Heading south, I followed the Gulf of Mexico for awhile, flying close to Charlotte Harbour, and Fort Myers.
I just kept thinking about what to expect once I would be parked in Miami. For a moment, I thought of simply continuing, and forget about KMIA… Tom… Richard Wheeler… The Six Pack… and just disappear. But I guess I was too much involved now. What other information did Tom have about me? What if he blackmailed my family? Or called Livewire headquarters and I lost my job? While I was considering all of that, I flew close to Lake Okeechobee (and Airglade Airport) and entered the swamps of Southern Florida.
At 70 nm from Miami, ATC gave me approach instructions for an ILS landing on runway 9L at KMIA. As the airport kept getting closer, I began to sweat a lot. What if the FBI or the Miami P.D. were waiting for me outside that hangar? The only thing that kept me focused was the checklist I was meticulously following, not trusting myself with the landing procedure I had followed hundreds of time in the past.
Not concentrated enough, I approached way too slow, and was soon in the middle of a huge mess, with some inbound heavy irons catching up on me.
I had to fight like crazy to keep control of my Conquest when Continental 1590 just flew over me and went on to land.
Yelling at the top of his lungs, a very angry Air Traffic controller in Miami Tower ordered me to get the hell out of the pattern and go-around for a second approach. That got my full attention, and I quickly climbed back to 4000’ and flew the missed approach procedure, until I was vectored back for another approach to runway 9L.
Quite decided I would not kill myself BEFORE finding out what exactly was waiting for me below, this time I focused on the task at hand, and did a nice landing just left of the centerline. I was surprise to hear, before I requested it, Ground control directing me to the southwest parking, and the unnamed hangar.
Trying to find something that apparently was not there (police cars, white vans, etc), I slowly approached the hangar, not exactly sure what to do now.
At 11:30, thirty minutes ahead of time, I turned off the engines, and climbed out my Conquest….
To be continued….
