Dave isn't the only frequent flyer in the family. Over the years, Dad has earned more air miles than members of most professional sports teams.
Recently, Dad made a quick trip to Long Beach, California for a UFO conference. He arrived without problems on Saturday morning. The conference went well, and all signs were that his trip home on Monday would be swift and uneventful. He was wrong.
Dad's Air Canada flight to Toronto was supposed to leave the L.A. airport at 11:40 am. He arrived at the airport in plenty of time, and so, knowing his family well, picked up four coveted, fresh loaves of authentic sourdough bread to bring home. With loaves in hand, he and the other passengers boarded the plane on time. However, with the doors closed and seat belts securely fastened, a strange squawking noise came across the P.A. system. Passengers exchanged curious glances, then the noise was heard again.
It turns out that squawk was the pilot's attempt to greet the passengers. However, the P.A. system seemed to have lost the ability to properly transmit his voice. With the passengers still on board, mechanics were brought in to try and revive the tired system. They consulted with experts in Montreal, but still, unintelligible squawks were the only sounds that could be heard.
After awhile, passengers were told that power to the plane would be shut off for six minutes, in hopes that the system would reboot and the problem would magically disappear. Of course, turning off power to the plane meant turning off the air conditioning as well. Not a big deal if they'd been sitting on the tarmac in Toronto, but this was a fully booked plane sitting on a stretch of black asphalt in L.A. with the noon-hour California sunshine beaming down in full force.
After six sweaty, stuffy, hellish minutes, the sweet hum of electrical currents could once again be heard on the plane. Fans came on, seat belt signs lit-up, and the P.A. system? It still squawked. Finally, at about 2pm, after sitting on an un-moving plane for about two and a half hours, Dad and the other passengers were asked to leave their seats and go back inside the terminal. An hour later, they were told the plane couldn't be fixed that day. Then they were herded into a line to receive motel and food vouchers. Still carrying his loaves of bread, Dad was shuttled to the Westin hotel for the night. He received a 15 dollar voucher for supper. The cheapest item on the hotel menu that evening was 25 dollars. He should have just eaten the sourdough.
They re-booked Dad to leave L.A. at 7am on Tuesday morning. The flight left on-time with a P.A. system that didn't squawk, and arrived in Toronto at about 2:00pm. The afternoon flights to Fredericton were fully booked, so Dad roamed the airport for seven hours before boarding his 9pm flight to Fredericton. He drove home safely from the airport around midnight. The loaves of bread were none the worse for wear.
Dad is, however, lucky he got in when he did. By Wednesday, the old road to the Fredericton airport disappeared beneath the rising, raging waters of the flooded Saint John river.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Monday, May 5, 2008
Hurry up and Wait
It's a pain if one of Dave's flights is delayed on his way home, but it can be a major problem if it happens on his way to work.
It was a Monday evening during Dave's first winter working at the mine. I dropped him off at the Moncton airport, then drove off to the barn to see Murray (my horse). There's very little cellphone reception at the barn, so I didn't get Dave's message until I was on my way home, two and a half hours later.
The message said his flight was delayed and could I call him ASAP. I figured by then that he'd be long gone, but I tried his cell anyway, and sure enough, he was still at the airport. He had, however, made a 40 dollar (round trip) cab ride back to the house. No, Dave hadn't forgotten anything. Actually, he went back to the house to return some of his luggage.
Now, these days, Dave rarely checks-in baggage on his flights to-and-from work (he stopped after Air Canada lost his luggage on three successive flights). However, these were the early days of his Diavik career, and he had packed a suitcase. The problem was, when he checked in, he was told that his flight to Toronto was delayed by several hours due to "mechanical difficulties." He did the mental math, and realized it would be very difficult for him to make his connection to Edmonton. It would be almost impossible for any checked bags to make the transition from one plane to another.
To save the hassle of lost luggage, he called a taxi, went home, hastily repacked his clothes into a carry-on bag, got back in the cab and rushed back to the airport. He needn't have bothered. His flight was delayed again and again. Instead of leaving at 7:00pm, it eventually lifted off at around 10:30 pm. Dave missed his connection to Edmonton before he even took off from Moncton.
That created a potentially costly problem. His charter flight from Edmonton to the mine site was scheduled to leave Tuesday morning at 10:30 am. There are no flights to site on Wednesday, so if he missed it, it would mean waiting in Edmonton on his own dime, until Thursday. That would entail a couple of days docked pay, not to mention the cost of two nights in a hotel and two days worth of meals (and probably a trip or two to the casino to pass the time). Needless to say, Dave didn't really want to make this kind of investment over a missed flight. But what to do?
While waiting in Moncton, he began the process of trying to rebook a flight to Edmonton. The folks at the Air Canada kiosk pressed a few buttons, searched a few screens and told Dave they could get him to Edmonton by about 1:00pm on Tuesday-- not soon enough. Beginning to despair, Dave called Air Canada's 1-800 line. They told him there was an earlier flight, one that could get him to Edmonton at about 10:10 Tuesday morning, but every seat had been sold.
Dave explained that he NEEDED to get on that early flight. He also calmly explained that he flies round-trip across the country with Air Canada once a month, and that he could fly West Jet if he so chose (never mind that their schedule isn't as convenient). The operator at the other end of the line did some searching and came up with a seat for Dave on the early flight.
It was only a partial relief. The flight was scheduled to land at 10:10am. So, after 19 hours in an airport or on a plane, Dave would have to sprint to catch his flight to the mine site-- which leaves at 10:30am. If his flight was late, he'd be stuck in Edmonton for an extra 48 hours, at a cost of several hundred dollars out of his own pocket.
He phoned ahead to let Diavik's charter company know he would make it, but that he wouldn't have much time to spare.
I received a phone call from Dave at about 2:00pm Atlantic on Tuesday. I saw the number on my phone and assumed the worst. After all, his flight to the mine should have been soaring through the clouds by then, so since he was calling me, I figured he'd missed it. But I was wrong.
Dave explained that his flight from Toronto had left on time, though before boarding, he noticed a very angry and confused customer ranting to the Air Canada agents at the gate. It turns out the passenger had had a seat booked on the flight--long in advance, but had inexplicably been told there wasn't room for him. Hmmm.....in any case, Dave's flight from Toronto took off on time. When it landed, his sprint to his gate rivalled Ben Johnson's best performance (only Dave was running on adrenalin, not steroids). He arrived at the gate out-of-breath, but on-time. Then he was told that the charter flight to the mine was delayed due to weather. Go figure.
Finally, after 48 hours of travel, Dave arrived at work, ready for 14 days of 12 hour shifts.
It was a Monday evening during Dave's first winter working at the mine. I dropped him off at the Moncton airport, then drove off to the barn to see Murray (my horse). There's very little cellphone reception at the barn, so I didn't get Dave's message until I was on my way home, two and a half hours later.
The message said his flight was delayed and could I call him ASAP. I figured by then that he'd be long gone, but I tried his cell anyway, and sure enough, he was still at the airport. He had, however, made a 40 dollar (round trip) cab ride back to the house. No, Dave hadn't forgotten anything. Actually, he went back to the house to return some of his luggage.
Now, these days, Dave rarely checks-in baggage on his flights to-and-from work (he stopped after Air Canada lost his luggage on three successive flights). However, these were the early days of his Diavik career, and he had packed a suitcase. The problem was, when he checked in, he was told that his flight to Toronto was delayed by several hours due to "mechanical difficulties." He did the mental math, and realized it would be very difficult for him to make his connection to Edmonton. It would be almost impossible for any checked bags to make the transition from one plane to another.
To save the hassle of lost luggage, he called a taxi, went home, hastily repacked his clothes into a carry-on bag, got back in the cab and rushed back to the airport. He needn't have bothered. His flight was delayed again and again. Instead of leaving at 7:00pm, it eventually lifted off at around 10:30 pm. Dave missed his connection to Edmonton before he even took off from Moncton.
That created a potentially costly problem. His charter flight from Edmonton to the mine site was scheduled to leave Tuesday morning at 10:30 am. There are no flights to site on Wednesday, so if he missed it, it would mean waiting in Edmonton on his own dime, until Thursday. That would entail a couple of days docked pay, not to mention the cost of two nights in a hotel and two days worth of meals (and probably a trip or two to the casino to pass the time). Needless to say, Dave didn't really want to make this kind of investment over a missed flight. But what to do?
While waiting in Moncton, he began the process of trying to rebook a flight to Edmonton. The folks at the Air Canada kiosk pressed a few buttons, searched a few screens and told Dave they could get him to Edmonton by about 1:00pm on Tuesday-- not soon enough. Beginning to despair, Dave called Air Canada's 1-800 line. They told him there was an earlier flight, one that could get him to Edmonton at about 10:10 Tuesday morning, but every seat had been sold.
Dave explained that he NEEDED to get on that early flight. He also calmly explained that he flies round-trip across the country with Air Canada once a month, and that he could fly West Jet if he so chose (never mind that their schedule isn't as convenient). The operator at the other end of the line did some searching and came up with a seat for Dave on the early flight.
It was only a partial relief. The flight was scheduled to land at 10:10am. So, after 19 hours in an airport or on a plane, Dave would have to sprint to catch his flight to the mine site-- which leaves at 10:30am. If his flight was late, he'd be stuck in Edmonton for an extra 48 hours, at a cost of several hundred dollars out of his own pocket.
He phoned ahead to let Diavik's charter company know he would make it, but that he wouldn't have much time to spare.
I received a phone call from Dave at about 2:00pm Atlantic on Tuesday. I saw the number on my phone and assumed the worst. After all, his flight to the mine should have been soaring through the clouds by then, so since he was calling me, I figured he'd missed it. But I was wrong.
Dave explained that his flight from Toronto had left on time, though before boarding, he noticed a very angry and confused customer ranting to the Air Canada agents at the gate. It turns out the passenger had had a seat booked on the flight--long in advance, but had inexplicably been told there wasn't room for him. Hmmm.....in any case, Dave's flight from Toronto took off on time. When it landed, his sprint to his gate rivalled Ben Johnson's best performance (only Dave was running on adrenalin, not steroids). He arrived at the gate out-of-breath, but on-time. Then he was told that the charter flight to the mine was delayed due to weather. Go figure.
Finally, after 48 hours of travel, Dave arrived at work, ready for 14 days of 12 hour shifts.
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