FLIGHT BERMUDA

 

Many a time I have often wondered if I should tell this story, a dozen times I have started a with my pen and paper to go through the vivid recollection of the event, but a dozen times I have quit. Not so much because I can’t remember the incidence, no, the events are still fresh and clear in my mind and if I live long enough to make it to the Guinness book of world records as the oldest living man, I would still remember it…it was like yesterday.

I have quit a dozen times because my story is so weirdly out of this world, so bizarre, so much like a renowned fiction writer stretching the realm of his imagination but yet, its all so true. I have told many, a few laughed, a few thought I was an excellent story teller but none believed,

 I thought “why should it matter if people believed it or not, I went, I saw, I came back”

I have learnt that there are over 6 billion people on earth and I surely know that somebody out there, somewhere someone will believe me if I tell my story…even if it’s a single person. He or she might be in the middle of the darkness of Africa or on the great walls of china; perhaps that one person may be in the deep densed region of the Amazon, or in the dry, scorching zone of the Sahara desert.  I have waited a great deal to tell my story and I expect it to take time, I expect it to take long time, but it will be heard, it will definitely be heard…THIS IS MY STORY.

 

“The boundaries of the Triangle vary with the author; some stating its shape is akin to a trapezoid covering the Straits of Florida, the Bahamas and the entire Caribbean island area and the Atlantic east to the Azores; others add to it the Gulf of Mexico. The more familiar, triangular boundary in most written works has as its points somewhere on the Atlantic coast of Florida; San Juan, Puerto Rico; and the mid-Atlantic island of Bermuda, with most of the accidents concentrated along the southern boundary around the Bahamas and the Florida Straits”

                             (source:wikipedia)

 

My name is Frederick Williams I was 26 years old then (now am 33) and I have been interested in aviation all my life. At the age of 13 when I took my first flight, I became addicted to flying, bitten by the proverbial “flying bug”; since then my thoughts had never been far away from aviation, I couldn’t wait to turn 16 (the minimum age to qualify for a training), the day before I would turn 16, excited, I was awake through out the night

“It was the longest night of my life”.

I have been pondering, lost in reverie I talked to myself “in less than 24 hours I would have my real first feeling of handling the controls of an airplane”

When the sun came up my excitement was obvious, I could hardly eat breakfast and at the instant what I ate I had had enough in my mother’s eyes. I bolted through the door and reached for my bike.

My dad didn’t say much about it, he thought I’d get over my obsession after flying for a couple of hours “like every child does” he always said. My mum supported me rather reluctantly, she couldn’t comprehend as she said “why I wanted to fly at the expense of everything else” she always said I was too young and commercial flying seemed far away.

 

I rode to the airfield with gusto, passing by and ignoring the trees I used to admire, the cuckoo nest I couldn’t stop looking at. At the instance one thing was on my mind, flying, I wanted to fly. I had saved enough for 5 hours flight instruction.

It became a ritual every weekend after that I was at the airport, when I didn’t have enough to pay for flight instructions, I will sit and watch the planes take off and land.

 

2 years rolled by and now I had over 170 hours, I tried to get an airline cadet sponsored program but to cut the long story short after a year I was unsuccessful “ they said I had too few hours”, but was determined, and like an event out of a movie I inherited US $ 32,000 from my granddad.

 

My granddad was my first passenger after I soloed. So much a nice man he was the one that got mum off my back from her persistent distraction of goal set. Pardon me I am not saying she is been on the negative, but her over protectiveness of her only child is transgressing acceptable limits.

I can still remember his words, so reassuringly encouraging when I touched down he pat me on the shoulder and said

“am proud of you son, someday you will fly the most sophisticated plane” and 2 years later on the morning of 23^rd November 1988 I owned a piper Cherokee, making ends transferring cargo and advertising banner.

 

I had driven myself to the airport that fateful morning in my Honda accord 86 model and parked in the overnight parking lot. I smiled all the way to my piper , walked around and inspected it; being satisfied with the structural condition I opened the cargo and inspected the preloaded cargo, closed it and made my way to the office (pilots call the cockpit office).

 

I had owned the aircraft for 3 years but I never cease to be amazed by it. A double engine workhorse in perfect condition, every time I look at the instrument, I feel the excitement of that first time. Feeling on top of the world I took the left hand seat and made myself comfortable, took a deep breathe and savored the satisfaction of flying.

 

I proceeded to carry out my checklist, with that done I turned the engine on and the familiar whine of the propellers brought the instruments to life. I set the altimeter, checked my fuel-gauge and released the parking brakes; I put on more power because the aircraft was heavy. It had its maximum load and its tank was filled up. I rolled easily while taxing I radioed for take off clearance and stopped at the runway threshold.

“5N Bravo- Bravo-Gulf you are cleared for take off” the air traffic controller beamed over my earphone. The traffic was light I was to take off behind a Hailcom gulfstream IV.

”5N Bravo-Bravo-Gulf” I repeated

“Cleared for take off” and I applied full power slowly at first, my aircraft took speed, I was eating up the length of the runway now, I glanced at my speed indicator, it showed 76knots in an instant I rotated and my landing gear left the runway surface. The main hind wheels followed in an instant and I was in the air and gaining altitude. The runway markers were dropping below me and there was a sinking feeling as I withdrew the flaps.

The normal staccato over, I climbed to flight level 180 at 150 knots (that is 8 feet and leveled)from then on the flight could be uneventful or so it should have been, but I never knew what lay ahead.

Flying over Atlantic (within the strait of Florida) though at 15,000 feet flight level 150 I experienced a minor buffet, that was strange, I painstakingly checked cross the weather report to make sure i avoided such weather, I always prefer to stay on the ground if the weather was bad. My storm scope did not warm me of any impeding storm, but still it didn’t bother me much.

“Just a minor turbulence” I comforted myself. But just then I experienced a very violent buffet, it was unlike any other turbulence I have ever experienced or even heard of. It shook the airplane like a strong wind would toss and turn a kite in the air. My heart stopped beating, I thought my airplane would be torned apart; I lost my sense of altitude in an instance, through the turbulence I could see my pilot-case and my pen flying in the cockpit.  The diet cola was everywhere. The stick was shaking so much

“Did the plane go into a stall?” I questioned my inner self.

I realized in the moments that passed, I and the 35 tone plane had turned a full circle in the air, I was wet from the spilled cola, but that wasn’t my immediate problem. I fastened my seatbelt tighter and scanned my instruments; a look at the altimeter sent my heart beat racing.

It showed descending, and fast. I was on in a nose up altitude on a full power; my rate of climb indicator showed I was climbing at 3000 feet a minute, my artificial horizon showed I was climbing; bodily sensations are useless in the air so I ignored it. There are only three possible explanations, I tapped the altimeter glass cover with my fingers but it still showed me “descending” through flight level 120, I had spent 5 minutes now, I tried to think…either all my instruments are working and my altimeter is malfunctioning or vice-versa.

“But I should be climbing” I uttered to myself.

I am climbing, nose up, full power…I began to get scared because there was only one explanation which was so stupid, and I still ponder to this day, wondering how and what came into my head at that particular point in time. My plane was ok, my instruments were ok, I actually was ascending only that the mass of water was rising up to meet me. Yes, while I was battling for height, in a tornado whirling form the sea was rising, rushing up faster than my plane was gaining height…like an open palm frantically grabbing a mosquito while it run for its dear life. At this pace, it would take my plane minutes to crash into the bottomless sea below, minutes to swallow up my aircraft and me.

I tapped my mic and tried to radio, no response, I changed frequency, still no signal. I looked out through the windshield and at that instance a thousand images flashed though my mind. My girl friend, my mother, my father, my lil’ sister at the college, my friends…in a moment death makes a man ponder in unimaginable ways. I wanted to reach out to everyone I had offended in my life and tell them I was sorry, I wanted to reach out and help everyone whoever needed help from me. I thought about the good things I have done and the not so good things and I, thought about death.

“What will the headlines read when I make the 6 o’clock news?” I pondered and thoughts like “general aviation pilot flies into severe thunderstorm”

That was stupid of him” my id wittingly replied the question

I tried to radio hoping in case any passing plane would intercept.

“Mayday, mayday, mayday, 5N BBG encountered severe turbulence, system malfunction, ditching at present location please intercept” and quite, there was no response.

Nothing happened, I was all alone and I hated it. I stopped thinking.

“No no no you have to think” my inner self urged.

The cruel hands of despair began to wrap me but no “you will make it out of this” my inner self consoled.

“You will survive” it assured.

“God help me survive this and I will tackle the rest” I whispered to myself, half believing myself and half I don’t even know what I believed.

Images flashed through my mind of Captain Gayle a 767 Captain I knew, a personal friend. He crashed his beechcraft bonanza when he lost an engine on take-off from Dallas forth worth. He was trapped in the ruins, his plane had exploded and he had been burnt to almost ashes. I cried my eyes out when I saw his remains, a sight that had painfully become a part of me.

“Is that what’s going to happen to me?” I thought to myself as tears flooded my eyes. For a moment I had forgotten about the altitude of the plane, I had no sense of space and or time (or should I say space-time as Einstein challenged Newton’s law, suggesting that time and space are not two separate entities but single)

I had ceased to hear any sound, the sound of the propeller cutting through the air was non-existent to my ears, the whistling of the airstream as it rushed pass the aerodynamically designed fuselage was inaudible to my ears…I could hear only one sound, the sound of my heart thumping against my ribs. I shut my eyes for an instant and opened it; took one more look at my instrument, what I thought would be a final look, then, the altimeter showed 1200 feet and suddenly the aircraft broke out of the cloud, but instead of an endless body of water that I expected to see, a huge body of rock filled my windshield.

Battling the control of the plane, I held the yoke firmly and pulled towards me but the plane refused to respond, now heading towards eminent disaster, in some seconds I will hit the solid rock and I will be…I will indeed be dead.

In despair, tears flowed down my cheeks, but miraculously the piper started climbing, slowly but surely it started climbing, I closed my eyes as the plane headed for the peak of the rock. As I got closer, I closed my eyes and yelled “oh! My God” waiting for the crash. A couple of seconds passed and it was silent, I opened one eye and then the other; looked outwards via the side windows and I saw the mountain dropping away.

“Yes, yes, yes” I exclaimed as the plane responded and was gaining height. But I had to put her down and fast, I beamed outside and just below my left wing I saw it…an airfield, my radio had ceased to work so I didn’t bother myself with it, I had had enough problems on my hand. I would just make a visual approach and hope I don’t run into some jumbo or a gulfstream that would fling me out of control. I circled the field and eased the plane out of the height onto the runway threshold; when the main wheels touched the ground I screamed to in ecstasy “yes”.

The landing gear touched the surface of the runway and I raised my eyes and focused my attention as I taxied slowly, scanning outside and finally the plane slowly stopped and I turned off the power. The propeller slowly came to a halt, all lights in the instrument panel turned off, the needles all sank back to zero; I have been in the air for 2 hours.

On the outside, I thought to myself “soon the airport securities will be all over me for landing without clearance” a brazen disregard for the laid down rules and procedures…truth is at this time only one thing mattered to me, I am alive, the worse they can do is lock me up in a cell and a few calls would see me out. I waited impatiently in my seat but nothing and nobody came. A 727 was parked, it must have landed shortly because I could see the cabin opened. A U.S. military C130 tanker is also parked, the cabin opened also.

 

I looked around and saw no movement or any sign of activity, I could see the airport lounge through the giant glassed structure and it seemed so unusually empty “what an architectural masterpiece” I thought. I unbuckled my seatbelt and raised myself out of the bucket seat. I stopped for a moment and looked around the cockpit, my US $320 pilot case was soaked with the spilled coke but it didn’t bother me, I made it to the cabin door, reached the handle and opened it; a blast of hot air hit my face and I grimaced.

“it must have been 72F or more “ I told myself as I jumped out. I stood akimbo and looked around for a moment and I subconsciously muttered to myself “nothing, nobody”

“Where are the passengers, crews and airport personnel” I thought to myself.

I raised my eyes to the control and said to myself “I know you can see me, goddamit come for me” but nothing.

Did they think I was some kind of alien, or is it that they still have not recovered from the shock of my disaster averted?

I made to the airport lounge via the arrivals, slowing my pace when I came beside the 727 jet. The fuselage of the jet was still radiating some amount of heat, an indication that it wasn’t long this plane landed here.

Madly astonished and yet a bit scared I asked myself “but where’s everybody?”

I entered the lounge and it’s so empty like old Trafford on a Monday morning. I looked around with my uneasiness on the incline but still there was nothing. Then, I noticed a cup of coffee on a table beside me; it was still steaming. A doll was lying on the floor, seems like it was dropped by some adolescent impatiently being pulled away by its mother. I walked to the reception desk, every step producing a horrible echo in the empty space. The place radiates some spookiness, empty like a cemetery yet so alive instilling fear into me. Something moves from behind me, I froze as I could feel the adrenaline spurting into my bloodstream…I turned around and there was nobody and nothing.

A parker pen was laid neatly across the passenger manifest, which unusually had no single name on it.

“Hello” I uttered

“Hello” I heard, it was my echo

“Anybody here?” I said louder but all I could hear was my reflected sound fading away when it hit the walls and came back to me.

Its unimaginable, beyond the comprehension of the human brain, an airport in the united states with nobody…“what the heck” I thought to myself but as I turned around in my state of confusion a framed picture caught my attention N.T.S.B Chairman Arnold Worthington “buried alive 1999”, that I thought must surely be a joke. I picked up the parker pen and scribbled on the sheet “Frederick Williams was here”

Looked at my watch and wrote down the time “4:30pm”. I put the pen in my pocket and walked across the lounge to the door leading outside. I reached the exit and stopped,

Mouth agape for a moment I couldn’t believe the sight, I said to me “no this is impossible, no on no it can’t be”

The whole place was in the middle of some very high mountain, no roads winding up or down, not even a walking distance from the door I was standing…looked like the airport as a structure was carved out of the mountains.

I began to feel dizzy and nausea, because all these was too much for me to bear, I put my hands across my face to make sure I wasn’t dreaming “no I wasn’t”

My hands began to tremble, I tried to walk out of the lounge, managed to get to my aircraft, the cabin door was still opened so I jumped in. I reached for my pilot case, opened it and grabbed my yashica camera and put it across my shoulder.

I reached for the cargo door and opened it, I always make a point of flying with my satellite phone, as my uncle always says “life is like a box of chocolate, you never know what you’re gonna get out of it”

I got the briefcase, placed it on the floor, knelt down and opened it. I proceeded to dial my girlfriend’s number because I don’t want to worry my mother unnecessarily. I dialed and raised the phone to my ear…nothing, not even a tone.

“noooo, this must be a joke” I despairingly shouted…but truly, I mean this is station 12 from Altus, the if you can get there you can call from there phone.

“Where the hell am I?” I asked myself for the first time, because I know as sure as hell that the probability of anything going wrong with the satellite used by this phone is one over infinity.

I put the phone back, locked up the case and put it back in the cargo hold and locked the door. I took my camera from my shoulder and began to snap some pictures. First I had 5 shots of the 727 from different perspectives and so also for the C-130, then curiosity took the better part of me, I put my camera on my shoulder and made efforts and got into the plane. Walked aboard slowly, I looked around, no one and nothing unusual. I moved to the cockpit and opened the cockpit door, the atmosphere in the office looked serene, there was a Serengeti sunglasses on the co-pilot seat, he must have thought he’d be back soon to have left his US $ 134 glasses lying around. I snapped two pictures of the cockpit and then an Idea came to me…rewind the cockpit voice recorder and listen to the pilots conversation, I knew it was wrong but what?. I reached for the voice recorder and rewound it; I sat on the jump seat and listened attentively, the flight was…

 

           Flight 120 Vero Beach to Miami, it had 120 souls on board, cleared for flight level 270, to cross beacon 1 at 400, 2 at 5000, 3 at 5000 and then climb to cruising altitude. The captain’s name was Charles Carroll Taylor (the name sounds kind of familiar). I have heard some story about a Charles Carroll Taylor at that moment that was all I remembered. The flight seemed to have met some sort of difficulty as evident from the captain’s struggling emotion laden voice

“We are being sucked by some sort…arhh! It’s like we were heading towards the center of a tornado…we are going down”

And at the last seconds, Captain Charles Taylor transferred command of the jet to the co-pilot and that was it. Nothing more, the cockpit was as cold, silent and spooky as a graveyard at the end of the conversation. I knew it was wrong but I removed the cassette and put it in my pocket, maybe I thought it will help unravel some of these incomprehensible happenings later on. One thing that really bugged me was “where has everybody gone?”.

120 souls on board and not a single breathing soul at sight. If it wasn’t for the conversation I just heard, I’d say the whole place was a set, a studio, a stage or something for a movie john woo is directing and the jumbo was some sort of a test bed about to be blown up, but no, it’s real.

I abandoned the jet and hurried into the lounge, took some pictures, yes, I took 3 pictures, suddenly the thought leaving the place struck me and I had to do that quickly because the apprehensiveness of the atmosphere is  beginning to give that dreadful, sickening kind of feeling making my heartbeat race faster.

I held my camera tight and was about to race to my beechcraft, but then I thought “what’s the use of a picture to argue when you are not in it?”

My inner self said “you just might have as well picked them on the floor, or had your way with it from an album or photo studio”. So I quickly stepped to the reception desk, set my camera on the 10 seconds snap mode and stayed well in position. Ten seconds passed by very slowly and snap; I turned it through 90 degrees and did the same. I grapped my camera and stepped off.

On steeping out of the arrivals what I saw was a sight so scary and defies description and all I did for a moment was watch with mouth agape.

The sky began to change, it was like a giant brush painting it, some sort of nuclear bomb detonated kind of smoke. I raced to my plane with my heart painfully beating against my ribcage, my breathe beginning to be labored; by the time I reached the plane the strong wind has started blowing.

I reached the cockpit, threw my camera on the co-pilot seat and switch on power. I have no time to check for any structural damage “if the wings haven’t fallen off am getting the hell outta here” I thought to myself. The needles came alive, my altimeter showed 5000 feet, I have never heard of any airfield with such an altitude in the united state…no time to go into the geography of the united state” I thought as I opened up the throttle, the RPM increased to 10 and the propellers were now cutting through the air providing enough force to move the plane.

“fuel” I thought, but on scanning the fuel guage I had 3 hours of fuel ,but that assurance did not come with any relief as I taxied to the runway threshold and applied brakes. The whole place grew dark, unlike the darkness of the night lit by a moon, I couldn’t see the aircraft’s nose “god” I thought despair creeping in “how do I take off In such a condition?”

I turned on my cockpit light to full brilliance, I could now scarcely scan my instrument, I turned on my wingtip light and nose light to full brilliance; it didn’t shine enough for me to see the runway, but I thought to myself “whatever, however I have to take off” as I could feel the danger, I could feel the evil in the air, so thick I could almost touch it. I don’t know how I was going to make it without runway lights and without navigation systems but I was determined to leave.

 

I applied full power and my plane sped up. I maintained a straight course. Trying not to panic I consoled myself “if that jumbo could land on this run way, it’s enough for me to take off” forgetting I had landed there earlier. I glanced at my speed indicator and at 80knots, I rotated, pulled the control column towards me and I was up in the air and even though a few feet off the ground the plane sunk to the run way with a bang, miraculously it went up again I presumed as I felt that sinking feeling associated with take off. It was like a strong magnetic filed that wanted to feed on the plane. A cross section of my instrument showed my speed was building up good; I was gaining height only that I couldn’t see where I was heading. I had a fair picture of the terrain in my mind and I tried to fly like a bat, blindly, only that a bat has mechanisms to avoid crashing into bodies I had none. My altimeter reached 8500feet and climbing; when I reached 9000feet a sight of relief crept into me as I am aware of having safely being place above my destruction, at least on earth. After like 4 minutes flight in the dark, the clouds suddenly began to disburse, at first I thought it was my mind, but no, my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me, the dark clouds were actually beginning to clear away.

Slowly the clouds cleared and I eased my throttle backwards and descended out of the cumulonimbus. Everywhere was clear; I smiled, no actually I laughed in happiness…truth is I didn’t know why I smiled and laughed but I know there was that feeling of being free and there is that  fact that in my mind I could feel that is a familiar territory.

I had no sense of direction and or location; I didn’t know where I was so I decided to descend so low enough to catch a glimpse of some highway or any other landmark that could lead me to someplace conducive enough to lad as I have just 2 hours of fuel now.

“Yes!”  I shouted as I saw the endless mass of water. I had never being a strong believer in God but that day I prayed. I prayed because I was sure someone, some powers had been listening and seeing; I knew I wasn’t alone through this, I knew God was with me.

I descended low enough to sight or be sighted by some boat. I scanned along the endless body of water for half an hour and could see nothing.

“dum spiro spero” (as long as I breathe I hope) I consoled myself even after flying for nearly 45minutes. Weird thoughts began to flood my head, the kind of confusing yet baffling thoughts and at that moment I was like ‘now that I have maintained a straight course, what if there is a ship at my 3 o’clock (that is to my right), what if it was to my 9 o’clock (to my left), what if I change course and turns out that its actually straight ahead; what if there’s no ship at all. So wrapped up in confusion I felt like I was stationary in the air, I had tapped my mic continuously with no response just that familiar crackle of static electricity.

After flying for another 30 minutes and with cloud of despair engulfing me I tapped my mic ones more and sent out a mayday

“mayday, mayday, mayday this is bravo bravo gulf, it’s a long story but lets just say I have been flying in this direction for more than an hour over”

Suddenly there was this radio crackle and a response came “bravo bravo gulf, this is Miami tower we been searching for you for about 6 hours over”

“hooo! Yeah!” I blared into the mic

“Bravo bravo gulf report height and position over”

“900 feet above sea level, 120 miles due east, north 73 miles over” there was a moments silence and then a response came

“Miami tower, this is bravo bravo gulf do you read me over?” I blared into the mic

suddenly came the response “this is Miami tower roger, bravo bravo gulf we read you loud and clear, please turn right heading 320”

“BBG turning right heading 320” I replied as I banked the plane and watched the compass.

“BBG you’re 13 miles away from the runway threshold, what your position over?” Miami control queried.

“17minutes of flying time” I notified

“That should be enough; you’re on a straight in approach over”

“Miami control thank you” I said sighting relief

 “Miami control asked “what do I need to shoot at it?”(Minimum weather requirement for landing)

“600feet over cast and 800meters visibility” assured

“you have 1000 and 900, you’re cleared to land on runway 21 left”

I could now see the runway threshold, with sense of relief I thought to myself “in a few minutes I’d be on the ground”

No landing has given me such pleasure in my life, not even my first solo landing when the instructor couldn’t conceal his admiration and congratulated me with the words “that’s some beautiful, smooth landing son”

I landed and applied brakes immediately; slowed down I taxied and came to a halt. An ambulance raced towards me, and then the security vehicle. The whole community and my family. I looked around wondering for a moment what led to all these? But flooded with relief I unbuckled the seat belt and stepped out. Standing on my weary feet, the whole community was there; nodding I pat my plane with the satisfaction of hanging in there with me through my ordeal. People applauded as I waved. My family arrived and the scene was an emotional one. I cant tell between my mum and my fiancé who had cried their eyes out as both of their eyes were red.

I hugged them all and just like I knew they gathered to hold back the tears only for that moment as they burst into another episode of crying. Letting go off me my fiancé couldn’t get any stronger as she hugged me again crying and laughing at the same time “we thought you’d been swallowed by the Bermuda triangle” she said

I was in no mood for the gist as I just replied “I was”

They all looked at each other and burst into laugher.

At the clinic, the doctor thought I could have suffered from shock and exhaustion to be lost in the air for 6 hours.

“but wait a minute” I interrupted and said “ I had only disappeared for nearly 4 hours” and my watch confirmed that, I took off at about 10 and now its just about after 2

but ahead of me I could see the sun going down, I peeped at the car clock and it said 5:25pm. I thought to myself “no something is wrong” I still asked my girl friend what time it is and she confirmed its after 5pm. My mum queried “what is it with you and time now?”

And I explained that I had only disappeared for some 4 hours or so “I’d been constantly checking my time” I asserted.

“Relax” mum said “perhaps your watch stopped but you have been lost for 6 hours and thanks be to god you now here and ok now shut your mouth and relax”

I know my mum and that means don’t make another remark regarding this issue.

The doctor said I am perfectly ok only exhausted, “but I’d only flown for less than 2 hours and had not spent much time in that whatever it was” I thought to myself; even the local radio station broadcasted I was lost for 6 hours, everybody believed so, I almost did myself. Perhaps I hit my watch against something when the plane hit the turbulence.

Back at my apartment I thought to myself “I have to unravel this mystery, because there’s no way I could have been away for 6 hours.

I tried to explain to people but no one would believe me, so much to the extent that atimes I was skeptical about it too, perhaps I am still suffering from the shock” I thought to myself. Excruciatingly I ponder “was it that I went to a world where time does not exist, or was it that time standstill in this place. My Rolex oyster never ceased to work, yet it was 4 hours late, my MSE kept flying yet I flew for about 3 hours with no extra fuel burnt.

But I know better, nobody even wanted to hear me out, they didn’t even believe the disappearance time that they change the subject of discussion when I get to start to explain it.

“its ok” I thought to myself consolingly, if they won’t reason with me on the time; I have other evidences that will in the pictures and the cassette from the voice recorder.

 

On the evening of the next day, I took the film out of my camera and rushed to my friend john, a supposed calm down to earth chap I have known since high school. John has a photo studio and I know he will help me print it.

“pick it up at 8am tomorrow” he said after having  coffee discussing the issue with him; I could read a sense of disbelieve in his expression as we gist but deep inside me I was like “the whole world will see the truth in those pictures and you will be the first to be hit by the truth”

The night was almost as long as the night prior to my taking my first flight, I was awake pondering away the night.

Next day, 8am on the dot I was at the studio, john chuckled when he saw me.

“What’s up bro, are the photos ready?” I queried

 “If it was a sky snapping competition you’d have won the first prize” he said handing over the pack of pictures to me.

I took the photos out and looked one after the other… and nothing. I mean there was no airfield, no jumbo jet, no airport lounge, no C130 tanker, no beechcraft, nothing but a clear sky, sky, sky.

John said “now I don’t know how you did this, but if you could show me, we could both be rich, looks like something George Lucas will like”

I grab the picture from him and, I’d never been so lost for words in my life, it was I standing in the clouds…actually standing on the clouds.”

“But, but, this was the picture I shot at the lounge of the airport” said my inner self. At first I wanted to explain it to him but then there isn’t any need for that I thought.

I thanked john and took my leave, on my way out he asked if there was anything I expected from the pictures?

“No, nothing, skies, just skies” I replied and headed out.

I drove home slowly unable to believe all that transpired, the time, the pictures, the people and what happened to them that they won’t believe me; in-between those thoughts I got real confused and angry, at who? I don’t know but I was really pissed off.

I burst into my apartment; my fiancé was lying on the settee reading a book. She has a flare for reading and reads anything that could make sense…sometimes even those that don’t. She doesn’t need anybody to tell her I am baffled and sad even as I have great ability to conceal my emotions, she is one person who reads me like a book, like the books she reads.

“What’s the matter sweetheart?” she said in that sweet melodic voice of hers as she dropped her book and gave me a hug. My heart was racing and she could feel it.

She sat me down and went to get me a glass of water; the doorbell rang and I answered it, it was Ivan, a 727 flight engineer friend of mine, I had given him the tape from the flight recorder I retrieved to play and see what can come out of it.

“Sorry” he said “looks like it has been wiped off before you reached it” paused and then concluded “you know it’s erased before take off, every take off”

There was no need to tell him I heard it last before taking it out, I just collected it and said “thanks”

As I walked him to his car, I van said “wanna come for dinner later, I and Kelly will love to have you and Amanda come over”

“Sure” I said

“7” he said as he started the ignition, nodding I responded “ok”

Back at the apartment, I shut the door behind me and slumped on the settee; idly I took the book Amanda was reading and the cover reads “MYSTERIES OF THE BERMUDA TRIANGLE” without much interest i went to the index page; scanning through I abruptly stopped at a name that looked familiar “Captain Charles Taylor”. I quickly opened the page and found out to my greatest astonishment that Captain Charles Taylor’s flight was in the Bermuda triangle when his flight disappeared from radar. The last conversation heard by Miami tower was of Captain Taylor relinquishing power to his co-pilot…then silence that was it they disappeared on the radar; nothing has been heard then.

AC-130 military plane took off on a rescue mission with military personnel aboard; it also disappeared with no trace.

All sighting of unusual occurrences have been tried to be explained by various agencies, the first pilot Kenneth Arnold, to sight a flying saucer was put down to temperature inversion, some were put down to meteorological balloons or experimental planes of US Air force. None was believed, but I didn’t just see I was there; I saw, touched and came back. I dropped the book and closed my eyes pondering and digging deep into the abyss of my thoughts, my supposed meditating state was disrupted as Amanda walked in from the kitchen, gave a glass a cup of coffee and sat by my side.

“You seem so worried, are you ok?” she queried

“I am” I replied

If she didn’t believe at least she knew I wasn’t in the mood to talk.

She stood up and headed to the kitchen with the cup and saucer in her hand, I followed her “Amanda” I called as I stood behind her

“Yes honey” she said turning around

“Let’s get married “I said

And for some seconds her face was expressionless, then she managed to put up a smile; like a quarterback she rushed and hugged me. We stood there for sometime secured in each others arms.

“So?” I asked “are we getting married?”

she took a step back with her hands wrapped around my neck, and eyes with tears like she’s been crying for days and said “of course we are” she paused and added “I thought you’d never ask”

“I love you “I said and she replied “I love u too…so much” as we kissed and hugged.

I called mum and dad and broke the news to them. Mum was so ecstatic and couldn’t hide it as she rushed over. Dad congratulated us through the phone. Only when the excitement has sizzled out that I remembered Ivan’s invitation for dinner. I called him and broke the news to him and instead I invited them to have dinner with over. I van was so excited he was the first person know apart from our parents.

After the dinner while they have gone, several hours later Amanda and I were cuddled in each other’s arms on the settee, my eyes went to her book; she noticed I was looking at the book as she looked at it and gazed at me.

“They said flights really did disappear” she said and added “I don’t believe a thing, its strange isn’t it?” she queried shrugging her shoulder

“Yeah” I said “it’s strange, very strange”

 

Reviews

[just is]

I have read millions of books on the bermuda triangle, so I found this to be really really interstting. I like your stories, This is a wonderful write here. I like to know what exactly there is out there to make things lost and enevr come back. Wonderful story you have told here, I like the ending alot. You have a relal knack for story telling. Enjoyable read here.

[Bear]

Strange... indeed, the Bermuda Triangle is strange. Your tale takes me back many, many years to the nights of my childhood when I read books about the Triangle and the odd things that "took place" within it's waters. Perhaps one day those souls that "disappeared" will return and tell us their stories as you've shared yours?

A fine write! Thanks for sharing!!
Sallie Bear