A Bug in Flight

It was yellow and noisy. Like a giant insect. I watched it gently touch down on the tarmac, and the rotor blades slowed their motion. I was going for a helicopter tour. This ride was a birthday gift from my wife. I had once mused about how great it would be to see the city of Charleston, South Carolina from a helicopter. Sometimes I think she can see my daydreams. Charleston is an old and colorful historic city.

The whirlybird, to use an antiquated term, was quite modern appearing, not one of those MASH jobs that always had Radar O'Reilly yelling, "Incoming! Incoming! Nor was it as menacing  as Airwolf. It was relatively small and manufactured by the Robinson Helicopter Company. Actually, I would have preferred a Sikorsky.  Sikorsky has been in business since 1925.  I think experience is important in the design and manufacture of flying machines. The Robinson R-44 is a four door model and as you would expect carries a pilot and three passengers. It has a payload of 789 pounds. I started a little mental arithmetic.  I weigh 249 lbs, and the guy in the back seat

next to  me was over 200 as well. The pilot was no lightweight, and the woman sitting next to him could never have been considered small.  I think she was what my mother called "big boned". After Frank, the ground crewman, helped us fasten our seatbelts the pilot motioned for us to put on our earphones, which had a microphone built in so we could talk. The six-cylinder engine made a lot of noise. I think maybe it needed a tune-up. One of the first things the pilot said was, "We've got a heavy load."

"What if it wouldn't take off?" I asked myself. You didn't get out and push a helicopter.  But the two hundred and forty-five horsepower of the Lycoming engine got us off the ground. In minutes we were heading toward the Cooper River, the great river that joins the Ashley River to form the Atlantic Ocean. Or so they say!  We passed over a tank farm at four hundred feet.  The pilot said we would be flying at that altitude because we would be out of everybody's way there. That was good to know because I had seen two F/A-18 Hornets take off earlier, and I would not want to be in their airspace. Soon there were some gray Navy ships below us which looked like the same ones I had seen from sea level while fishing with my neighbor. My ears were getting their fill. The lady riding shotgun was telling the pilot all about her experiences as a UPS driver. Earlier she had almost become hysterical when she had spotted a UPS truck on I-26. I was unable to find a way to turn off the audio. Maybe I should not have tried to find a way to turn  off the sound.  What if there had been an emergency? Did you know that if the engine stops on a helicopter the aircraft will land safely under autorotation? But of course the R-44 was now over water.  I could see the Ravenel Bridge through the windshield. The pilot began pointing out things below. There was a hospital ship heading out to sea, painted white with a big red cross on the side. Our pilot said it was probably going to Africa, since Charlston is directly across the ocean from that continent. We could see what appeared to be

hundreds of BMW automobiles waiting to be loaded onto ships. The Ashley River was visible on the skyline as the City Market came into view. I could easily pick out St. Philip's Episcopal Church where on a summer day my nephew played a stirring rendition of "Free Bird". It was awesome! The doors were open, and you could hear it from Bocci's to the Dock Street Theater! And I saw the Circular Congregational Church where I found out that I was rhythmically challenged.  Broad Street came into view, and I recalled selling paintings in Washington Park. There is one thing you miss from on high...the smells of the city. From four hundred feet in the sky you can't smell shrimp boilin', magnolia blossoms or horse urine.  The flying machine then turned to port, and we could see Fort Sumter, where the War Between the States began. After passing Shem Creek we were flying over Mount Pleasant as we headed up the Wando River. Soon the fastest growing municipality in Berkeley County was beneath us, Daniel Island. The lady in the front seat was still talking about UPS, and I thought the engine was still making a funny noise. I kept remembering what my Grandma used to say, "If man had been meant to fly, God would have given him wings".

We had been airborne about twenty-five minutes when the control tower at the Charleston International Airport came into view. Our pilot gently lowered the Robinson R-44 to the tarmac and maybe, just maybe, I gave a sigh of relief. It had been a great ride and a great birthday present.