Exercise Whooper Finn Field Report No. 4

The trip to Orlando turned out to be more of an adventure than we expected. As we drove into the city from the North it was apparent that we were passing through the seamier districts. The police hunt in packs here. A policeman following us flashed us to pull over. Jimmy was driving. The police officer unholstered his gun, directed the driver to step out of the vehicle, whilst the rest of us were ordered to stay in the van. A discussion ensued and Jimmy climbed back into the driving seat to inform us that the taillights were both out. The officer gave us a friendly wave (no ticket) and drove off to deal with a pedestrian who appeared to have been knocked down and probably killed as he jaywalked 100 yards further down the street.

We were already on the forecourt of a garage so we decide to dismantle the rear lights to attempt to solve the problem. Fleets of fire tenders, police cars and ambulances arrived at the accident scene across the road. It looked like a movie set from ER, NYPD Blue and Miami Vice all mixed together.

We couldn't fix the light problem so we proceeded with the hazard warning lights switched on to prevent someone rear ending us. The ground crew dismounted in International Drive and had a tremendous day at Universal Studios and the surrounding theme parks on the rides and rollercoasters. I attempted to have the vehicle fixed back at Leeward, only to find that the electric trailer brakes have failed once more and the mechanic couldn't fix it on Saturday so it would be Monday before the problem would be examined in more detail.

This was a dilemma, as the brakes and tail lights are a serious safety issue. An approaching weather front meant that if we couldn't fly on Sunday we would be stuck in Florida until Tuesday at least. We needed to be back in Indiana by Friday for the first of the crew changeovers on Saturday.

In the end, I had to do something that I hadn't planned to do at any stage in the expedition and that was to split the aircrew and groundcrew. The van and trailer stayed in Florida while the aircrew made their way North to Valdosta, attempting to carry out further research en route.

The weather in Florida is hot and humid at this time of year and as soon as the sun heats the atmosphere in the morning, this starts to build into thunder cells. Despite an 0800 start as we flew out to the West Coast, a line of strongly convective clouds appeared out of the haze to present a barrier across our path. We realised that reaching our destination was not possible, so began a quick calculation of all the achievable alternatives. A flight further North to Gil Flint's looked the best option, so we turned to outrun the rapidly building clouds. We started 'cloud slaloming' at 4,500 feet. The clouds were building faster than we could climb. The gaps started to close, so it had to be down, underneath to the violent updrafts, which bump and thump the wings quite violently at times. The turbulence grew in intensity, and it looked liked Gil's strip was going to get very 'interesting' for landing. Two miles South of the strip there was the faintest improvement in conditions. We landed, stopped the engine, and stretched our legs whilst we changed to a new map page. No-one was at home. We took another look at the weather and decided to proceed. Conditions improved slowly as we flew into southern Georgia. Suddenly, the clouds completely disappeared to allow us a clear view of our destination, Valdosta Regional Airport, 25 miles away.

The landing proved uneventful, despite a strong wind and thermals to help stir the whole mix. The aircraft was secured in the local operator's hangar. A look at the weather radar revealed a violent line of thunderstorms where we had been 90 minutes before and the forecast supported the decision to move North.

Next day, the team was reunited and the drivers reported driving through some of the worst rain they had ever seen. The weather was looking good for the next day. We waited for the rest of the day to allow the remainder of the weather front to pass overhead. Bob Laufle, the manager, let us camp out on the grass behind the hangars. This was the area where the fire ants bit Jimmy and we are aware that this is their turf! The night is almost unbearably hot and humid, with sleep a fitful affair. The fire ants evicted us in the morning and we were tow days searching sleeping bags and other equipment for ant stowaways. The fire ant gets its name because, despite its small size (4mm) its bite feels like fire. It is abundant in the warm climate of the southern USA and is a well know hazard for campers.

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