When I got up Friday morning I thought it would be an easy day. I had only one flight scheduled, patients to return to Awarauka and then a 20 minute hop over to Kamarata to pick up a woman with pregnancy problems who needed to be in the hospital. Just as I was getting the airplane ready to leave, Celso came by. "I just had a call from Vista Alegre. There is a very sick baby who needs a flight."
"Okay, I'll go to Vista Alegre first," I told him, "taking a load of patients who have been waiting for a flight home to Wonken for several days. Then I'll head out for Awarauka and Kamarata."
After landing in Wonken with three passengers who were very happy to be home, I headed to Vista Alegre. The weather was not good with rain everywhere. I dropped down into the little valley, picked up the mother and her sick baby and then took off for Santa Elena. Just one more round, I thought, as I lit at Santa Elena. The weather was worsening. For weeks we've had nothing but rain; it just won't stop!
As I took off with well patients to leave in Awarauka and Weneweneken I had to fly mostly with my vision fixed upon the instrument panel. I wondered if I'd be able to land at Awarauka, but figured if I couldn't I'd fly down the river to Uriman and let them go on home by boat the following day. But, what about those whose home was Weneweneken? As I considered my options Celso called me on the radio to inform me that it was socked in at Uriman and raining hard. "There's a sick baby in Awarauka to pick up," he added.
"Okay," I answered, "That will work just fine, that is if I can land there."
His next words were, "It is also raining hard at Weneweneken and the village of Karum is begging you to come pick up a pregnant lady who is not doing well." I glanced at my watch and calculated the time. I would still be back home an hour before dark."
I prayed that Awarauka would be open so I could land there before it started raining there again. Just minutes out it was still raining hard. Again I asked God for His intervention with the weather, because if I couldn't drop off my passengers I'd have to turn around and leave all those needing help stranded in their villages. Tomorrow might be too late for some. Just then I broke out of the rain over Awarauka. Rain continued to fall all around, but not over the strip. "Thank you," I prayed as I circled to land.
After landing I learned that the sick baby was being transported from Aripichi, a village upriver one and a half hours away. "They will be here sometime close to an hour from now," I was told.
Looking at my watch I knew I couldn't wait. "I'll stop in on my way back," I promised.
"But the baby is so sick," they protested.
"Yes, I understand, and I will do my best to stop in again, unless the weather doesn't permit." I couldn't wait because then I'd not have time to pick up the other patients in Karum and Kamarata.
I took off for Karum. I flew in heavy rain all the way. I looked through the breaks in the clouds toward Weneweneken, and just as Celso had told me, the clouds were clear to the ground with pouring rain. As I neared Karum I was still flying in the clouds with rain. "God, would you please stop the rain long enough for me to land?" I asked. "I don't mind taking off in the rain, but I don't want to land with it pouring rain." Three minutes before I got there I broke out of the clouds into a clearing and could see rays of sun shining through the clouds. It wasn't raining!
"Oh thank you God," my heart spoke to the One who cares so much for His children that He will stop the rain so I can do my part to help them. As soon as I landed it began raining again, but not hard. I quickly exchanged passengers, loading the patient into the airplane. I figured it would pour rain any minute and wanted to be up in the air before that happened. As soon as I was in the air the plane was enveloped in clouds and heavy rain pounded down as I flew toward Awarauka. The closer I got the harder it seemed to rain. If it was still raining when I got there I'd just have to go on, and the sick baby probably would die. Then Celso's voice came over the radio once again. "There are two more patients in Uriman, one with a broken bone and the other very ill."
"And what are the weather conditions being reported there now?" I asked him.
"They say it is still closed in and raining hard," Celso replied. I knew there wasn't time to return for them even if the weather was good, so they would just have to suffer through the night.
Now, just minutes away from Awarauka I still couldn't see a thing outside of the plane—only water everywhere! Even looking straight down I couldn't see the ground, and I was flying fairly low. Again I talked about the situation with God. "In two minutes, if I can't see how to land, I will fly on, which means one of Your little ones probably won't live." My heart felt sad, but there was absolutely no way I could land on such a short strip with all that water pouring from the skies. Even if the strip was longer I still couldn't.
Then, incredible as it may sound, I broke out of the clouds into a bubble of clear area right over the village. No rain! I was able to land with good visibility, load the mother and baby in, and just as I was ready to take off it started raining again. Such weather makes taking off difficult, but at least the plane is leaving the ground, not trying to gently meet it with very little visibility.
I asked our radio operator again what the weather was like in Kamarata, as the poor pregnant woman was in desperate need and had been waiting all day for the airplane. "It's still clear over the valley," Celso told me. I'm so thankful for a good radio operator to find out what the weather is like along my route. It is such a big help!
I informed Celso that my chances of getting into that valley were less than 50 percent, but I'd give it a try. I couldn't fly to Kamarata on instruments due to the mountains along my flight path and those surrounding the valley. I would have to be able to see the ground, and at present it wasn't looking too good. There are two ways I could reach Kamarata, one being up through a small valley until I pass a big mountain on the left, then turning left I could climb, as the ground would be rising up until I got past the next mountain on the right. Then I would be on a big, flat plateau until I reached where it dipped into the valley once more. The other way was flying down to Uriman and then taking a straight shot up over the ridge and down into the valley.
Since the weather at Uriman was still really bad I decided to head for the slot through the mountains. It was socked in all around, but right at the edge where I needed to go there was an open space. I didn't want to get stuck and have to go up to the high altitude of 10,500 feet to clear the mountains because of the ill baby. He was having difficulty breathing as was. I carefully worked my way along the next ridge, then started climbing and found the clouds lifted along the way just enough for me to slip under them. Thus I had just enough clear space all the way until I reached the plateau. Now all I need is to find a hole to drop through into the valley, I thought. I was certain there would be one, because God would not have brought me this far without continuing to open a way to fly into the valley where Kamarata was. Sure enough, just as I came to the edge of the valley, there was a hole and I was able to enter the valley and land.
Once I was on the ground I looked to see what time it was. I needed to get back in the air quickly in order to have time to get back home before dark. With this patient the plane was full and I left for Santa Elena. I had to work my way along the mountain, drop into another valley, and then follow a little river which guided me away from the mountains until I reached the next valley. Next I turned east and stayed close to the ridge until I crossed the next river. From there it was a straight shot on in. About 10 minutes from the base I left the rain behind and started my descent.
I started my pre-landing check—gas, landing gear, brakes. Whoops! As I started putting a little pressure on the brakes I felt the left peddle give. Something was broken; now what did I lose? Did I still have rudder control? I felt again, and yes, I did. However, there was no brake on the left side. I broke off my approach and started a big circle over the base. I saw the ambulance waiting to take the patients to the hospital in Santa Elena. Pulling out my little flashlight, I looked under the dash. Yep, the brake linkage was broken. I figured that since I still had good rudder control I could land fine. With the water running off the strip and the soggy grass and mud, brakes wouldn't help me much anyway. Once again I started my approach and soon splashed down in the water and mud, moving the airplane from side to side a bit to help slow me down. I was able to stop, using only a large half of our nice long 1,500 foot strip.
I'd flown 5.5 hours, through rain, with 9 landings on short, muddy strips with streams of water running off them. I'd transported 6 people back home, now well and strong, and brought 4 patients to the hospital for help. So what is different about this day? Nothing really, except for the brake situation. Every day I fly is much like this one I've described to you. There are lots of days when I just can't get to everyone needing help. The people who have to wait, like those I left in Uriman this Friday, until the following day when I can fly again.
Friends, it isn't who we are nor what we have that matters, but what we do for others that has lasting value. Thank you for your prayers and continued support as together we make a difference in this area of Venezuela.
Merry Christmas!
Bob & Neiba Norton
P.S. If you would like to see some short video clips of the AMA plane landing and taking off from some of the challenging airstrips, click here, or you may also go to www.YouTube.com and type in the video search box: enorton25.