Well, I'm off to a good start on another fun trip with the C-130. It started out Thursday night at 11:30 when I got the call saying we were leaving ASAP Friday morning instead of Saturday.
On Friday morning when I got to work the Air Force was already calling asking why we didn't take off at 10. This is the kind of small stuff I sweat: there is no way a crew can legally even be in the building less than 12 hours after the phone call comes in, so asking them to be airborne in 10.5 hours without any kind of waiver is ridiculous. Add this to the fact that there was someone else from the Air Force calling to say they weren't sure who we were or where we were going. Typical fun.
We finally found out where they wanted us to fly and got airborne towards San Antonio. On the way in, Houston Center called us and said we didn't have permission to land at our destination so where did we want to go? A few quick phone patches later the destination realized their part in the game and agreed we certainly did have permission.
When we got there, we found that our passengers were prepared for this supposedly high-priority mission by not being ready to go. We called them when we landed and the pilot kept saying things like "Yes, we're here. Right on the ramp. In San Antonio. Yes, we're here...." That didn't bode well for loading up and going like we'd planned. Thanks to the passengers' sense of promptness we left 2 hours and 40 minutes after we landed instead of the 45-60 minutes we'd been hoping for.
The 5-hour flight to California was fairly uneventful until the end. As we descended into the airport the pilot noticed the oxygen low level light come on. I was flying from the right seat, so that means my hand and the yoke were between my eyes and both the light and the LOX gage. We quickly found that one of the regulators in the back was turned on emergency, probably by a passenger who accidentally flipped the switch.
After landing we tried to get some help on the way for the LOX problem, but first we had to convince the Air Force that we actually were on a high priority mission and they needed to get us some help fast. During this time the FBO was showing its appreciation for the amount of money we were about to spend on fuel by doing nothing. They figured I was kidding when I asked for a power cart, so 45 minutes later when we got tired of hearing the APU and shut it down, we found out we were alone on the ramp. We had to drag our bags into the building and then ask if they'd be so kind as to help us find a way to the hotel. 8 hours earlier when I no doubt was talking to the previous shift, there was no problem shuttling us to the hotel. Now it was a problem that we had so many people and their cars are so small and they want to go home, etc. etc. We finally convinced them to at least call a cab for us.
Thankfully the hotel was very close, and we got in the rooms at midnight eastern time, only 12 hours after our initial takeoff. I'm definitely getting too old for this. I looked in the mirror and my eyes are bright red. I guess I'm off to bed to rest up for tomorrow night's return trip.
