departed the airport and headed on his south-easterly course. Climbing out, he immediately began to see ominous dark cumulous clouds loitering menacingly around Crooked Island.
“Hmm, if they’re here, they’re there,” he theorized about his weather conditions at his final destination.
Prior to departing, he had checked the weather for his last leg. The National Weather Service was now reporting deteriorating conditions. Scattered and broken clouds that had appeared harmless before, had now formed into an overcast that was producing strong winds and moderate gusts, threatening to make the landing at his destination a difficult and nerve wracking experience.
Jack leveled off at eight thousand feet. Flying over open ocean, now nearly thirty minutes from shore, the clouds disappeared and the turbulent air smoothed out considerably. With the horizon devoid of clouds and only an hour left of flying, he began to feel relaxed, letting his guard down a bit to take in the beauty of his surroundings.
He looked off to his left. Far in the distance, he noticed two small islands marked on his flight sectional as Plana Cays. From what he could make of them, they were completely uninhabited. Surrounded by tranquil turquoise water, he made a mental note to stop there on his way back home and enjoy the quite beautiful beaches.
Up ahead, Jack could see the next island along his route of flight: Mayaguana Island. From his vantage point twenty miles away, he noticed that half the island was covered in clouds. Although they looked delicate and unassuming, he knew their appearance signaled unfavorable wind conditions below them. Checking his watch, he noted the time: three forty p.m.
“Forty minutes to go,” Jack said to himself. “Hope the clouds on Turks don’t get any worse than those.”
Staring out through the windscreen, he scanned for the first signs of land. He squinted hard as the sun’s rays penetrated his sunglasses and noticed a discoloration that lay just above the horizon. Slightly bluer than the surrounding skyline, at first it was difficult to differentiate. Within minutes, the landmass seemed to turn a deeper blue and now became clearly visible.
“Ah ha, Turks,” Jack announced to himself, excitedly, then added, “Huh, a lot more mountainous than I thought.”
Something didn’t seem right.
Mountains , he thought to himself.
Jack reached into his flight bag and pulled out a folder. He then pulled out a picture of Turks and Caicos Islands. The photo was obviously taken from out at sea and clearly showed the profile of the island.
“Those islands are flat,” Jack said to himself, still a bit puzzled.
He looked again at the land on the horizon. There was no mistaking the mountainous shapes that rose up from the land.
“That can’t be Turks. Am I lost?” he said, now worried. “What island is that?”
He opened his flight sectional fully and scanned the area as he tried to match up the landmasses outside the plane to the map in his hand.
“That’s gotta be Turks,” he said to himself, with ever increasing confusion.
Moments later, as he flew nearer to the large landmass, Jack heart dropped to his stomach.
“Holy shit! Those aren’t mountains. Those are storm clouds!” he blurted out in horror.
The closer he flew, the more distinct the shape of the clouds became. At first, their bluish hue made them appear as mountains far in the distance. With each passing mile, their blue color became darker and more defined. Jack could now see the land that stretched across the horizon, but more importantly, he could see the thunderstorms that towered above it. A sick feeling came over him. This was far worse than he envisioned.
Suddenly, he felt a jarring blow of turbulence. Quickly he reacted and leveled the wings.
“Whoa, I didn’t see that coming,” he blurted loudly.
He checked the mileage on his GPS’s. The readout displayed twenty-seven miles to his destination.
“Wow, it’s spitting out
“Hmm, if they’re here, they’re there,” he theorized about his weather conditions at his final destination.
Prior to departing, he had checked the weather for his last leg. The National Weather Service was now reporting deteriorating conditions. Scattered and broken clouds that had appeared harmless before, had now formed into an overcast that was producing strong winds and moderate gusts, threatening to make the landing at his destination a difficult and nerve wracking experience.
Jack leveled off at eight thousand feet. Flying over open ocean, now nearly thirty minutes from shore, the clouds disappeared and the turbulent air smoothed out considerably. With the horizon devoid of clouds and only an hour left of flying, he began to feel relaxed, letting his guard down a bit to take in the beauty of his surroundings.
He looked off to his left. Far in the distance, he noticed two small islands marked on his flight sectional as Plana Cays. From what he could make of them, they were completely uninhabited. Surrounded by tranquil turquoise water, he made a mental note to stop there on his way back home and enjoy the quite beautiful beaches.
Up ahead, Jack could see the next island along his route of flight: Mayaguana Island. From his vantage point twenty miles away, he noticed that half the island was covered in clouds. Although they looked delicate and unassuming, he knew their appearance signaled unfavorable wind conditions below them. Checking his watch, he noted the time: three forty p.m.
“Forty minutes to go,” Jack said to himself. “Hope the clouds on Turks don’t get any worse than those.”
Staring out through the windscreen, he scanned for the first signs of land. He squinted hard as the sun’s rays penetrated his sunglasses and noticed a discoloration that lay just above the horizon. Slightly bluer than the surrounding skyline, at first it was difficult to differentiate. Within minutes, the landmass seemed to turn a deeper blue and now became clearly visible.
“Ah ha, Turks,” Jack announced to himself, excitedly, then added, “Huh, a lot more mountainous than I thought.”
Something didn’t seem right.
Mountains , he thought to himself.
Jack reached into his flight bag and pulled out a folder. He then pulled out a picture of Turks and Caicos Islands. The photo was obviously taken from out at sea and clearly showed the profile of the island.
“Those islands are flat,” Jack said to himself, still a bit puzzled.
He looked again at the land on the horizon. There was no mistaking the mountainous shapes that rose up from the land.
“That can’t be Turks. Am I lost?” he said, now worried. “What island is that?”
He opened his flight sectional fully and scanned the area as he tried to match up the landmasses outside the plane to the map in his hand.
“That’s gotta be Turks,” he said to himself, with ever increasing confusion.
Moments later, as he flew nearer to the large landmass, Jack heart dropped to his stomach.
“Holy shit! Those aren’t mountains. Those are storm clouds!” he blurted out in horror.
The closer he flew, the more distinct the shape of the clouds became. At first, their bluish hue made them appear as mountains far in the distance. With each passing mile, their blue color became darker and more defined. Jack could now see the land that stretched across the horizon, but more importantly, he could see the thunderstorms that towered above it. A sick feeling came over him. This was far worse than he envisioned.
Suddenly, he felt a jarring blow of turbulence. Quickly he reacted and leveled the wings.
“Whoa, I didn’t see that coming,” he blurted loudly.
He checked the mileage on his GPS’s. The readout displayed twenty-seven miles to his destination.
“Wow, it’s spitting out
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