The clouds below were packed close together and looked like they might be bumpy, so I switched on the "SEAT BELT" sign and slowed ye old jet down a tad. Once in the overcast the ride was as expected, not bad but not comfortable. Approach gave us a vector so we turned, popped out of one cloud and were RADOME to a dark looking CU about 2 seconds away. "This one might hurt," was the opinion from my new co-captain. WHAM! Yep. In the back coffee and cold drinks were airborne, bodies hit seat belts and heads hit the headliner. The V-ist of the VIPs aboard, a Senior VP no less, caught a flying elbow from his seatmate and got cut below his left eye.
When a Senior VP gets off a corporate jet coffee stained and dripping blood, you can be pretty sure some corporate pilot somewhere is not having a good day...even if the VIP is a really good guy and there really isn't very much blood.
Two days later we flew them home and hit some more bumps, but none as righteous. The group dismounted with smiles and jokes, and all was okay in my little aviation world. We head out again in the morning.
After that kind of week I was looking for any excuse to take Kintala off the dock and do some sailing. Alas, there was nary a hint of breeze the whole weekend. Boats took to the lake of course, but none of them claimed to have found any wind. Winter draws nigh, the work list awaits; I sighed a sigh of resignation and opened up the tool box. By the time we left the marina 4 hatches were removed, holes were covered and rain proofed, the new topping lift was installed, (one trip up the mast) Deb did some modifications in her galley, and I even coped a nap. While talking to a friend about our progress I had an epiphany; there are only two things standing between us and the ocean.
1) Get Kintala ready.
2) Sell the house.
That's kind of cool.
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