And old high school friend of mine, Al, recently sent me the story about Kulula Airlines, a South African low-fare airline that seems to have a keenly developed sense of humor. On a recent flight, passengers reported hearing the pilot on the PA system say, "Kulula Airlines is pleased to announce that we have some of the best flight attendants in the industry. Unfortunately, none of them are on this flight." The airline doesn't just knockout one-liners over the PA system. They also have painted their aircraft in a lime green color with directional indicators all over the outside of the plane, much like what you might see on a blueprint. I especially like the arrows pointing to "the big cheese (captain, my captain!)" and "black box (which is actually orange)." Of course, the giant imprinted "flying 101" could cause passengers to lose a little confidence.
The airline story caused me to remember an incident Steve and I experienced in 1986 when we made a trip to Cozumel. It was our tenth anniversary and we were in the midst of building our first home together. I worked for an advertising agency and found a really sweet deal through the Hotel and Travel Index (HTI) for under $400 each that included roundtrip airfare, four nights/five days stay in a suite at an oceanfront resort, three meals a day, and two diving trips. Awesome! A few years earlier we both were certified as SCUBA divers and loved the sport, so thought it would make a great diving trip.
Culture shock set-in shortly after we touched down in Cozumel. Of course, it was preceded by extreme fear as the airplane's landing gear touched the tar mac with brakes on. We felt like we were in a mile long skid when we made a rapid, sharp turn at the end of the runway to avoid hitting the thicket of palm scrub. All passengers were thrown into a deep lean to the right as the plane made what felt like a 90-degree turn. There were plenty of cheers when the plane finally came to a halt, safely at the terminal.
Collecting our baggage and moving through Customs was a breeze, but an uneasy feeling began to set-in when we noticed all of the airport security. It was something out of a Hollywood movie set. There were short, native men standing around everywhere, dressed in what appeared to be a navy blue version of our orange prison jump suits, holding automatic weapons while eyeballing the perimeter of a 10-foot tall barbed wire fence that surrounded the airport. Steve and I gave questioning glances at each other, wondering what we had gotten ourselves into.
Our Cozumel vacation package included what was advertised as "limousine shuttle to and from the airport." We saw our driver waiting near baggage claims holding a sign indicating he was from our resort. We had to wait while other passengers collected their luggage and we all walked to our "limousine" together. It was only us and two college girls from Miami. When we walked out of the terminal with our chauffeur, we passed a stretch limo and walked over to a 20 year-old VW van where he began loading our luggage. The four of us stared questioningly to one another, unable to speak. Our driver escorted us to the open van door and motioned for us to "have a seat." All of the seats inside the van had been removed and replaced with pieces of plywood nailed on top of milk crates secured to the floorboard. Steve helped me in and said, "Well, I guess you get what you pay for."
It was a bumpy ride, in more ways than one. We chatted with the college students who were staying at a resort different from ours. Their package also include "limousine shuttle to and from the airport." The four of us tried to laugh about our predicament and enjoy the scenery along our drive. There was some road construction, which was interesting because there was no heavy equipment being utilized. Workers were clearing the road with pick axes, shovels and rakes. Other construction workers were sawing trees by the roadside and we found it interesting that they were using donkeys to haul away the fallen trees. It was a site to behold and gave us great appreciation for the modern conveniences we have at home and also gave us a visual for what life was probably like in the early days for our own country's settlers.
Our driver took the two students to their resort first. He made a turn off of the narrow pavement onto a dirt road through the palm scrubs and we drove for about a half mile, wondering the entire time if we were being driven to the middle of nowhere to be robbed and abandoned. Stupid us. Anybody could have held a sign with our resort names written on it. We didn't even ask for any I.D. from the guy! All of a sudden the scrub opened up and we were in front of what appeared to be a bombed out building. The front looked more like ruins than a resort. The girls were really scared and we were frightened for them. When we pulled up, another man ran to greet the girls and help with their luggage. We quickly exchanged names and contact info for each resort as a safety measure, just in case the girls found themselves stranded. Then we were off through the scrub down the lonesome road again, heading for our resort - at last. It wasn't very far down the road from the girls' resort, but again we turned down another dirt road through the scrub brush. This time, we came to a guarded gate resembling a border patrol. The attendant was armed with an automatic weapon which he used to wave us through the gate. It was an unsettling feeling as we approached our destination.
Our resort didn't look as shelled as the previous one but it was clearly in serious disrepair. This time, an American met us out front to help with our baggage and check us into the resort. Once we walked through the ruins of the porticoes, the other side of the building was like heaven! The flooring changed to terra cotta tiles and a beautiful garden landscape that opened up to the crystal clear ocean. The beautiful white sandy beach was painted with colorful cabanas and sailboards that we could see across the two swimming pools. Our room was facing a garden and was like an oasis retreat. The service and food were amazing. There was even a domesticated Tucan who begged food from the guests as they dined on the lanai.
The diving trips were phenomenal! When we set out on the converted shrimp boat for our first dive trip we passed the resort where we left the girls. It was even more stunningly beautiful than where we were staying. We never heard from the two girls and imagine they had an incredible vacation, too. Of course, the converted shrimp boat ran extremely slow, which was frustrating for a boat filled with anxious divers. Once we anchored, our dive master grouped us by four's and instructed us to meet him at the anchor. He dove into the crystal blue water and we could see him swim all the way to the anchor. We all began jumping in, one after another. But when I hit the water, I surfaced to locate Steve and that was a mistake. I could see that the deck of the boat was a good 15 feet above the water line and I began to panic that I would never get my fat rear-end back on board. One of my other dive buddies who had already made two dives offered me word of comfort. He said, "Don't worry about it! See that crane and line? They throw that overboard for everybody. You toss your fins and mask into the bucket and they lasso your tanks and hoist you up to the ladder." Oh, yeah. The ladder that was 10-feet above the water line. Easy. HA! So, I let the air out of my BC vest and began my descent into heaven underwater. I had a few minor problems on the dive with my BC vest. My air tank kept leaking into the vest forcing it to inflate slowly, which caused me to start rising towards the surface, so my entire dive, I had to keep squeezing my arms together to push the air out of the vest. It was quite an adventure.
I've gone a long way around in sharing our vacation adventure to tell you about the airplane. The most frightening and yet, funny experience happened while we were waiting in the airport to depart. Our plane was delayed because the plane scheduled before us was delayed. We flew Mexicana Airlines and were waiting for the AeroMexico plane to leave. The technicians working at the airport kept running out to the plane checking something at the door hatch. This went on for over an hour. Finally, they allowed the departing passengers to board the plane. As they closed the door, two of the technicians took rolls of duct tape out of their back pockets and sealed the door shut. No kidding. When they finished, they walked down the rolling stairwell, pushing it aside so our plane could move up the tar mac for us to board. The technicians were shaking their heads and wiping the sweat off their foreheads and necks, laughing and talking in Spanish, saying what I can only imagine to be words of congratulation about having come up with such an ingenious idea. All of us passengers waiting to board the next plane laughed in disbelief - and fear. I told Steve if our door didn't shut as soon as the last person boarded, we were taking a boat home. Fortunately, that didn't happen.
Sadly, about a month later, AeroMexico flight 498 crashed in its descent to Los Angeles when a second, smaller aircraft collided with it mid-air. There were no survivors. Steve and I couldn't help but think of that AeroMexico plane on the tar mac at Cozumel as we watched a ground crew tape shut the hatch with duct tape. We were glad that it, at least, had made it safely to its destination.
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