Stuck in Folsom Prison...

I spent the last week flying supplies out of Santiago into Haiti with a hysterical Canadian named Rick. The flying was much more like the flying I usually do... short trips around mountains and weather, and I enjoyed it very much. We shuttled orphans, delivered food and shelter. I got to see some of the smaller towns that Agape regularly services. We stayed with a local ministry team in Santiago that has been putting up anyone that asks since the earthquake.Couchsurfing at a whole new level meant th

at 28 people were our housemates on the first night. The first night, Rick had got a piece of metal in his eye from his plane's rarely opened (due to Canadian temps) airvent, and there just happened to be an opthomologist staying at the house that had just come out of Haiti with all his tools. The doc had him drugged and sorted in no time. Two eyed pilots are much more valuable (that said, I tried to get him to wear an eye patch, but he was having none of it.)

Leaving the Canadians to their own devices, I was to jump on an outbound Agape flight on Friday. They called and asked if I would be willing to escort some orphans from Children of the Promise Orphanage in Cap Haitien through the bureaucracy in Port au Prince and back to the states on the US Embassy plane. Sure, these kids have all be in the adoption process for years and have been cleared to the USA by the Haitian Prime Minister. With another pil

ot team in a C-414, I picked the kids up in Cap Haitien, where their orphanage (Children of the Promise) is, flew them to PaP, and then sent the other pilot and his plane on their way. I met Maria, a COTP field director, and Sarah, one of the adoptive parents; and we went to the US Embassy. They checked all the documents for the 6 children, confirmed that they were cleared all the way to the US, with Haitian permission and US visas.

Since the Idaho/Baptist/orphan debacle, no children have been allowed to fly out on private planes, so everyone is moved to the US They told us to wait for the embassy plane-- a military transport-- and then they would shuttle us to the airport. We waited. For 5 hours. Then an embassy official came out and said the flight was cancelled. No plane guaranteed tomorrow or the next day either. In fact, we might be done flying those planes. You're free to arrange your own private transport. Let them know and they'll approve it.

Luckily, I've been working with a flight organization. I call Agape and the dispatch team had a donated plane available within hours to send down the next day.We scrounged up somewhere for us three adults and the six kids to stay, and organized approval with the embassy for our private charter flight. They were all thumbs up. They told us not to come back to the embassy, but to meet them at the airport at 11:15am, and they would hand over the children's paperwork to us for them to clear in Miami. The embassy insists on maintaining custody of the paperwork until the children board the plane to the States.

We arrived at the PaP International airport in a taxi at 11:15. No embassy people. Within 5 minutes, we were surrounded by an angry mob. They tried to take the children from us and yelled that we were stealing the country's children. The police intervened. The police took all of us and the mob ringleaders into custody. The embassy had still not arrived, and since we didn't have the paperwork in our hands, the police were suspicious that the mob was right.

An hour later, the embassy arrived, US paperwork in hand. The police said it wasn't enough. They wanted to see the PM's signature. Back to the embassy, get that piece of paper. Nope, its a forgery... you'll have to get a new one. And guess what... the PM doesn't work weekends. There was clearly a testosterone match going on between agencies.

The woman from the US Embassy looked at me and said: "I guarantee you'll be on that plane today." Our pilots had arrived and threw their hats in the fray. Everyone at the airport with a badge got involved: now not only the embassy, the police, and the pilots, but the US CBP, Haitian Immigration, and a guy on the street selling gum.

The woman from the embassy looked at me and said, " I guarantee you guys won't end up in Haitian custody."As the situation stagnated between various opposing forces trying to prove they had more power at the expense of six scared little kids, most of the people left do do other things and the pilots said they had to take off. The police insisted on moving us to another station and continued arguing with our low-on-the-totem-pole embassy team. They crammed all the adults and the kids into the back of a police car and we bumped through traffic while 'We are the World' blared on the cop's radio.

Once they had us securely in their custody away from the airport, the police announced: the adults are free to go, but the kids are being detained. Right. Like we're going anywhere. The woman from the embassy looked at me again and said, "I guarantee they won't seperate you from the kids." Lady, that's three swings,and the first two have not made contact.

The police said we could go to a government approved orphanage for the night... Haitian jails don't accommodate crowds of two-year-olds. The embassy said we could ask permission from the orphanage to stay with the kids.Back in the police trucks. No music this time. We stopped at a few UNICEF tents set up in a compound and the police started pulling the kids out of the back. We followed them into a tent, where the kids were put on mats on the ground... where they would sleep, eat, and wait. The people at the orphanage never even asked their names. And Maria, who has been with most of these kids since they were babies, asked repeatedly that they be fed-- they had no meal since breakfast. Finally, a woman brought them a box of cornflakes.Could we stay with them? No. Can we sleep on the ground outside? No. Could we at least feed them and put them to sleep? No. The police insisted on escorting us out of the compound to the tune of six screaming, terrified children. Children of the Promise has friends in PaP and we are staying with them. The medical team at the apartment has given up their rooms and beds so that we don't have to sleep on the floor. Unlike our kids.

The Best Laid Plans...

I have been working with Agape Flights for almost 2 weeks. We have sent almost 80 flights and 180,000 pounds of supplies into Haiti to provide emergency relief to the victims of January 12th earthquake. The donations are coming in faster than we can empty the hanger, and we have rented a 50 foot shipping container to take non-emergency items down to Haiti in the next week.My time at Agape has been rewarding and exhausting. Emotionally, the weight of each day's work is overwhelming. Even in the hanger, the intense implications of paperwork and cargo are ever-present. However, people have continued to work with smiles and continue to volunteer more time and more resources. My next trip into Haiti is scheduled for Thursday on a KingAir donated by a pilot from Punta Gorda, FL. Thus far, my entire experience has been overwhelmingly positive with one exception. I was scheduled to fly co-pilot on a flight last week when the pilot announced that he wouldn't fly with a female. Unfortunately, in this industry, sexism is not a stranger. However, it is disappointing that peoples' prejudices come out even in the midst of humanitarian disaster, and it felt like a sucker punch when I am down here volunteering my time, just like he is. There are plenty of male jet jockeys around to step up, and I'd rather be in a 'modern' cockpit anyway.
One of the biggest challenges is passengers. The Haitian government is still not charging customs on supplies and persons brought into devastated areas, but they are cracking down on people who are trying to leave. Many of the people that are trying to get out of Haiti right now are volunteers and aid workers that went in after the earthquake. Many people are trying to get back to their families and jobs, or even trying to return to the States to get more medical relief supplies. We are coordinating with other aid organizations to get people on outbound cargo flights. Available seats are limited, customs are a hurdle, and the airport is a confusing place to try to find the appropriate flight in. Agape is also trying to move as many orphans as possible into the US from Haiti. We work closely with Children of the Promise, who have an orphanage in Cap Haitien, a town in the north part of the country. Many of the orphans there are nearly through their 2-year paperwork process and have parents waiting in the States. The sooner we can get these orphans cleared through the final stages of their multi-year adoption process, the sooner we open up spaces in the orphanage for newly-orphaned children from the earthquake, and then they can begin the adoption process. The Haitian government keeps changing the procedures for clearing kids from the country. Just last week, they decided that every child had to be brought to Port au Prince to be 'ok'ed through the Prime Minister before being allowed to leave the country. What a great idea... fly a bunch of orphaned kids to do paperwork in a city where the airport is a mess, most of the population is now homeless and hungry, and the infrastructure is a-shambles. In the last week, we have shuttled 12 orphans with escorts from Cap Haitien to Port au Prince to make 2 consecutive days of appearances at the PM's office. Friday, former President Clinton decided to make a "good will" visit to Port au Prince. All air traffic, in what can operationally be referred to as 'airplane soup,' was held clear for the President's aircraft to land and taxi. The Prime Minister spent the day Friday entertaining his guest instead of signing orphan paperwork. Of course, the PM doesn't work on weekends, and the kids had to spend Saturday and Sunday on the streets, or where ever they could find shelter to wait for a Monday appearance. Thankfully, 10 of the 12 managed to pass all the paperwork hurdles and get out on a plane to Miami late last night. We hope that the other 2 will follow in the next days. Meanwhile, we are shuttling 11 more orphans from Cap Haitien south.Wes, upon his arrival at Agape, instantly became an invaluable help staging and loading tons of cargo in the hanger. He will fly his first mission to Haiti on Friday, Lord willing and the creek don't rise. Bruce and Alice Shaw, in Sarasota, are still being our generous hosts, and if I wasn't so comfortable, I'd feel like I was imposing. I have committed to at least one more week of work at Agape, and will keep you posted. The situation here and there change constantly--for good and for ill. This is a great exercise in thinking on my toes. The Agape Staff have started to ask if I couldn't be convinced to consider a long-term position. I'm glad to be here, but Florida is wanting in the departments of ski races and short airstrips.

Return from Round One

Yesterday, Rook Nelson and I flew his Twin Otter from Sebastian, FL to Port au Prince, Haiti, on a non-Agape Flights mission. We were loaded with over 4000 lbs of tents and two passengers, who were going to help distribute and set them up. The donation was from New York and was being delivered to Son Light Missions. The passengers were wearing firefighter shirts. I asked them if they were firefighters. No. Haitians love uniforms.

We ran through some bad weather on the way out of Florida, and were thankful for each other's presence so we could split the workload. After a fuel stop in Exuma, Bahamas, we flew into Haiti. Air traffic control within 50 miles of Port au Prince is a nightmare. Imagine trying to squeeze all of LAX's traffic into Homer, Alaska. The controller can't possibly speak to all the inbound traffic, and chances are, you won't be able to key your mike without someone else stepping on you. We were able to tuck under the clouds, and then get to the airport on a visual approach, all the while trying not to have a mid-air collision with a C-5 or a UN helicopter. Getting clearance to land was nearly impossible. One pilot flies the plane, and the other pilot madly tries to make radio calls. There is one runway, no taxiways, and three ramps, which are only connected by the runway. The harbor is guarded by various battleships, red cross vessels, and cargo ships. From the air, it is difficult to make out any specific earthquake damage, however, you can see that EVERYONE is outside. The streets are teeming with people and tents and debris.

The US military has set up a perimeter around the airport, and many aide and relief workers, along with the military of various countries, have set up camps on the airfield. Near our parking space, 50 or so pallets of Red Cross Emergency supplies were sitting behind a barbwire fence, with no apparent access or use for anyone. Aircraft are coming and going constantly, fairly equal numbers of military and civilian planes. The person we were delivering the tents to (you have to have someone to receive items, you can't just dump them on the field) went off "in search of a truck." We knew we were in for a wait, and did so as patiently as possible, knowing there were storms building on our return route every moment we spent on the ground. Eventually, we let the ramp guys unload the plane and stage the stuff across the ramp for the elusive truck to collect. Rook's Saturday cargo had been unloaded and reloaded in Agape trucks within 15 minutes of landing. He wasn't expecting much of a wait. After they unloaded the plane, one of the rampers came up and asked me if we had any water we could give them. I handed over a half-full two liter that was our personal supply in the cockpit. They all thanked me profusely.

When we were finally ready to leave, three girls ran up and asked if we would give them a ride back to the States. They came down to Haiti as volunteers and none of the charter planes that brought volunteers in are coming back. The only good way to get out of Haiti is to find a bus to the Dominican Republic, then buy a commercial ticket out. All commercial flights out of the DR are booked solid for 3 weeks. Rook and I exchanged a glance, asked to see their passports, and shrugged our shoulders. They're Americans, they really want to leave, and we're going back to America with an empty plane: what's the big deal? Someone wearing epaulettes ran up and told us that, as of Friday, they re-opened immigration and customs for passengers

to Haiti (until then all controls have been suspended since the earthquake). A $10,000 fine and having your aircraft put on the US Border Patrol's black list is the big deal. We off-loaded our passengers, told them good luck, but it seems Haiti wants to keep them and the US doesn't want any people coming back across the border.

As we were sorting out the passenger drama, a man in a vest came up and told us we had to come in and file a flight plan. We both knew that we could file on the radio, even from in the air if we chose. But Vest Man was insistent. I stayed on passenger duty, and Rook went inside to sort out our flight plan. Once in the building, Vest Man explained that his family is hungry and living on the street- could he please have some money? Rook handed over a "flight plan" with a twenty dollar bill and came back to help me expel the stowaways.

Completely empty, the Otter had no problem with a short intersection take-off, greatly reducing our wait-time for the frantic runway. We headed back north. As the sun set, Miami Center radioed us to say that the Bahamas, where we needed to land again for fuel, doesn't allow flight after sunset. We spoke to Nassau control, and they confirmed that it would be illegal for us to land at Exuma. Multiple choice tests are so easy: (a) illegal landing on runway in foreign country, or (b)running out of fuel and crashing into the nighttime waters of the Bermuda Triangle. As we touched down in Exuma, it was growing dark and we got called up to the tower. We got a hand slap and were refused permission to take off. According to the radar, the entire coast of Florida was laced with embedded thunderstorms. So, we weren't going anyway. We apologized for breaking the law, and then enjoyed the rest of the evening drinking Dark & Stormys (fittingly) in a hotel bar.

Well rested, we finished our flight back to Florida this morning. I said goodbye to Rook. I hope it doesn't take an international disaster to get to see him again.

I drove back across Florida to Agape Flight's hangar and checked up on my work at dispatch. Two planes went out in my absence: the DC-6 and the Embraer. The week is filling up with flights, but most amazingly, the hangar is, once again, chuck-full of donations.

Haiti Relief Update

I've finished my 4th day at Agape Flights in Venice. Yesterday, I dispatched 2 planes, a Twin Otter and and an Embraer, carrying at total of 7500 lbs of relief supplies, to Port au Prince, Haiti. The Embraer landed on Friday night, had just enough time to fuel and reload, and for the pilots to take a short overnight nap, and then they took off Saturday morning at oh-dark-early. I am becoming adept at the paperwork required by US customs. Competency doesn't make the regulations anymore reasonable though.

The Twin Otter is an airplane from Skydive Chicago, one which I am quite familiar with. The first day I arrived at Agape, they asked if I knew anyone that would be interested in donating planes. I used to fly skydivers, so I got ahold of my old boss, Rook Nelson, (using the complexities of Facebook) thinking that he might have an idea of someone that had a skydiving plane around. He wrote right back, saying, I'm available, and I have my Otters in Sebastian, which is just on the other side of Florida from Venice. Rook donated two round trips, with a 4000-pound load capability for each one. I haven't seen Rook since I left his company to go to Alaska, almost four years ago. When he taxied up the ramp at Agape Friday night, he jumped down from the Otter, gave me a big hug and said, "I always knew I would see you again, I just never guessed it would be here." Me neither.

This morning, Rook and I were supposed to turn and fly the Otter back to Haiti with a doctor, a nurse, and a huge load of medical supplies, food, and water. However, by the time the plane returned from Haiti last night, after getting delayed on the ground in Port au Prince, and then by US Customs in Key West, a ground fog had rolled in at Venice. Rook and his co-pilot, Jeff, Agape's chief pilot, couldn't land. They diverted to Punta Gorda. By the time I drove down to pick them up, it was 1am. We would have to drive back to get the plane at 4am to fly it to Venice, load, refuel, turn around, and make our Air Force appointed slot time of 1:45pm in Port au Prince. Because we knew we would both be exhausted with only an hour or two of sleep, and the round trip is an 11 hour flight, we cancelled today's trip. "Everyone's a safety officer."

Rook flew his plane back to Sebastian today, to pick up a load of tents being donated by a company from New York. He got there to find that his co-pilot hadn't shown up. He called me. I'll cross Florida again in the wee hours of the morning, to climb into the Otter for my first trip to Haiti. We'll depart the Sebastian airport, weather allowing, at 8am. You can follow our progress at FlightAware Just enter "N10EA" in the box on the left that says: "Flight/Tail #:".

I am afraid I have become much too useful at Agape, but they will survive dispatching one day without me. I am continually impressed with the generosity there. Every time we make a dent in the pile of pallets in the hanger, more donations pour in. We have loaded a DC-6 donated to depart out of Miami tomorrow morning, and our hangar is miraculously still full. We need more airplanes! I am still enjoying the wonderful hospitality of Bruce & Alice Shaw, of Homer & Sarasota, who are making me comfortable and facilitating my travel around the state.

I'll send a report when I get back to the country, and my computer. Pray for tailwinds and friendly border guards.