“What are you guys doing?”
“Getting the start cart out. Something’s up with the batteries.”
“Need any help?” She asks climbing out of her bag.
“Sure, hon.”
“Morning,” Michelle says as she climbs out of her bag, descends the small ladder and joins us as we walk to the back.
“Good morning,” we all say in return.
We look like we just woke up from an all-night frat party. Well, I do at any rate. Michelle walks up to Robert and they both give each other a small good morning kiss. Okay, now this has to be one of the oddest moments I have lived through. Seeing your son kiss a girl for the first time. It is just, well, startling. I have always tried to keep up with their growth and treat them accordingly, but it is moments like this that make me realize they are more grown up than I realize, another big step in my acknowledgement of his being a man. My legs actually grow a little weak and I stumble over my own feet.
“You okay, Dad?” Nic asks me, looking up at me with a huge smile painted across her face and a twinkle in her hazel eyes.
“Um, yeah, just fine,” I respond as she continues smiling up at me.
“Bri, we’ll be outside,” I call out.
“Okay, Dad,” a sleepy voice answers on the other side of the fuel tank.
We lower the cargo ramp and wheel the cart into position. “Okay Nic and Michelle, do your stuff,” I say and they unroll the connector cables and attach the cart.
Robert and I walk in through the crew door pulling it closed behind us and head back into the cockpit. I switch the power over to external and, after confirming that Nic is online, start up the right two engines — numbers 3 and 4. Switching to internal power, the electrical instruments read fine. Switching the DC to battery, the reading drops significantly.
“We’ll give them a charge taxiing back to the ramp,” I say switching them back.
Robert unbuckles and heads back to help get the cart onboard and secured while I start the remaining engines. We really only have to start the outboard ones for taxiing but it gives me something to do while they are stowing the cart. I make radio calls on UHF and VHF guard frequencies but silence is my only response as Bri joins me and buckles into her seat.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” I say hearing the click of her plugging in and finishing up with my checks.
“Good morning, Dad.”
Moments later, Robert, Michelle, and Nic walk in and settle in and we taxi over to the ramp by the P-3s. I leave the engines running checking on the battery readings. The readings haven’t changed. I leave them running for another twenty minutes with still no indicated change.
“Crap! We may have to change the batteries out with one of the P-3s,” I say beginning the engine shutdown procedure.
“Do we need to?” Nic asks. “It seems to be running fine.”
“Yeah, we need them. I’m not going to head over the pond with bad batteries. At least, I’m hoping it’s the batteries.”
“Have you ever changed batteries before?” Robert asks.
“Nope.”
“Do you know how?” He asks.
“Nope,” I say with the engines winding down.
We shut the aircraft down and search for tools in the storage compartments bringing them to the nose of the aircraft. The one thing I do know is where the batteries are stored in the nose and so, using the onboard tools and a large stepladder we found stored inside, I remove the hatch and look inside. Hooray, first try, I think looking at the batteries sitting on a shelf just inside the aircraft. Looking them over with a flashlight, I notice one of them has a crack in the side.
“The thunderstorm must have bounced them around a little,” I say showing everyone the damaged battery.
“Robert, take Michelle, grab that fuel truck over there and meet us over at that P-3,” I say pointing to the Orion parked closest to us.
“Okay.”
“Do you two have your weapons?” I say as they begin their trek over to the truck.
“Yep,” he replies over his shoulder.
“Let’s gather this stuff up,” I say to Bri and Nic indicating the tools on the ground.
The sun climbs higher into the blue sky, warming the air further as we start across the ramp towards the other parked aircraft, our hands full with tools, and the ladder. The M-4 is slung over my shoulder and I keep an eye out for movement. Off to our right and behind us, on the edge of the gray ramp, lay the remains of last night, scattered about and looking like someone just dumped their trash.
We arrive at the P-3 at about the same time that Robert and Michelle pull up. An easterly breeze has sprung up. This is once again the type of day where we would normally be outside getting the Jeep or bikes ready for a day in the sun, listening to the first lawnmowers crank up and the smell of fresh cut grass, to be followed by throwing some burgers on the BBQ. The wafting breeze carries the morning smell of the trees and plants.
“Dad, I’m hungry,” Nic says as we drop our tools and ladder by the front of the P-3.
“Me too,” Robert says.
“What? I fed you yesterday,” I say. “I feed you once and now you expect it every day. Is that the way it’s going to be?”
They all smile as this is an old one between us. “Okay then, let’s finish this up and then we’ll grab a bite.”
It takes a while to find the batteries as I don’t know this aircraft. However, several panel removals later, I find their super-secret location and manage to remove one. It takes both Robert and I to actually lift it out of the aircraft. “Have Michelle help you take this one over and set it in the truck,” I say after we finish with the first one and start in on another.
“How many are we going to take? I thought only one was broken,” Robert asks seeing me reach in again.
“We’re going to take them all, just in case.”
The last one is finally removed and loaded onto the truck. “Meet us over at the aircraft,” I say to Robert, putting the hatches back on and we all start our journey back across the ramp. The sun has now climbed almost directly overhead.
“You guys go get something to eat,” I say once we are all back at the 130. “I’m going to start working on the bad one.”
“You aren’t hungry?” Bri asks.
“No, babe.”
“I suppose that means you aren’t fixing anything,” Robert says with an exaggerated sigh.
“You are perfectly able to fix your own food.”
“I know, I’m just kidding,” he says back.
“Oh, and the pantry won’t be available so you’ll have to use the packaged food.”
The day presses on. They eat and we get the new battery in place and hooked up. We should’ve been a few hours in the air already, I think reattaching the panel. I head up to the cockpit and check the battery reading. The indicator jumps up to normal. Thank god.
“Okay, let’s get it fueled up,” I say as we stow the tools and ladder away. I look at my watch, “It’s almost 1500. Let’s try to be off the ground within the hour. Looks like we’ll have another night approach and landing.”
I am a little more worried about this one as our airfield is in the middle of the Atlantic with very few options available should something go wrong or we end up not being able to find it. We do have enough fuel to make the coast of Portugal or Spain so that might be a second option. However, if we lose the GPS or it is a little off, we could end up searching endlessly and only find water. The only thing I truly don’t like is not being able to see the weather visually from a distance as you can during the day. I don’t want to have another evening like last night.
Fueled up and with the cart and extra batteries stowed away, we take off with the afternoon sun wending its way over the blue sky behind us. Climbing out on an easterly heading, the coast of Maine fades away beneath us, eventually becoming a dark smear on the horizon. The sparkling blue of the Atlantic spreads out around us in all directions. The skies above us are clear with only a few scattered clouds high above as we level off at flight level 250. Far to the south, only the very tips of cumulus clouds appear, covering much of the southern skies, obviously part of a very large storm system. Ahead of us though, the skies remain clear. The only interruption of our flight is our intermittent calls on guard frequencies and the switching of fuel tanks. I keep an eye on the electrical system but everything seems to be operating smoothly.