Wednesday, December 25, 1991:
Well, it was too good to be true. We were on time to the airport, I remembered the tickets, the shuttle bus from the satellite parking lot to the terminal was very quick, etc. I'm wondering what's going to go wrong. Here we are at 31,000 feet somewhere between Dallas and San Jose and I think I have it figured out. It's Christmas day and we're surrounded by every screaming brat in the world and they all got those god-forsaken handheld video games that make beep-beep sounds for Christmas. I have a monster headache. Children should be outlawed. It was the same between Raleigh and Dallas. Two hours and forty minutes. We're promised 3:15 from Dallas to San Jose. Not only that but the coffee is pretty bad. We're on an MD80 and I was hoping for a DC10. What do you have to do to get on a really big plane? Pay for your ticket? At least M's new airsick medicine is working. She's not sleepy, either. I told her we'll give it the Cessna test, next. We saw some of the Texas flooding from the air around Dallas.

San Jose, 2:30 PST: I just got back from the captain's chair. I went up front while we're laid over (30 minutes). The captain let me sit in the left seat and play with all the toys. He activated several of the aural warnings to let me hear them, including the stall warning (a taped female voice saying, "stall, stall, stall") and I held the sick while it shook. Too cool. M started babbling "death horn! death horn!" and the pilot just grinned at her. She slunk back to her seat about then. There are CRT's for attitude and HSI - then regular altimeter, vert. speed, and airspeed. I didn't recognize what was in the turn coordinator spot. The A/C has a 3 axis "antiquated" autopilot. (The pilot's words.) I told him I give the right seat passenger a 5 minute lesson and then they were my autopilot. The first officer said, "You can't beat the price, especially if you're charging them for half the fuel." I said, "Yea, on a good day." There were engine instruments out the wazoo. There was a flight monitoring computer (looked like a loran) that told best climb speed, best altitude, etc. There were auto throttles - you set takeoff parameters and the throttles fly themselves. He set them in motion and the A/C suddenly thought it was taking off with the flaps retracted. A voice started saying "flaps not set. flaps not set." There was a flight monitor - it radios exact position to the central computer in Tulsa, OK. They know where you are every minute. The newer ones have flight conditions reported as well (airspeed, flap settings, etc., etc.). They can tell you what you were doing every part of your flight. The captain made some comment about privacy... The altimeter reports AGL instead of MSL and has a DH bug. "They should have had those years ago," he said. American Airlines uses AGL for their altimeter (the main one, anyway) and he said it's hard to get used to (and he's been flying a while). Watched a ground technician putting duct tape around the plastic moulding surrounding the windshield. Hope it holds. Visibility on the way into runway 30L was 3-smog.

Thursday, December 26, 1991:
Well, it happened. Just when I thought the bad luck was behind us, I caught the flu. Oh yea. I was feeling pretty bad by the time the plane landed in Vancouver. We got through customs ok except they kept our apple. We got to the hotel and checked in ok. M took my temperature (she expected the worst and packed the thermometer) and it was 103 degrees. The rest of that evening and night and most of this morning, I lay in bed feeling lousy. First day of vacation. Fenno luck. Many thanks to all those in my office who had it but came into work anyway. We went to the aquarium in Stanley Park (big park downtown) about lunchtime. I was feeling better but weak. The zoo was there, too. Complete with penguins. There were lots of black squirrels running around. They're pretty tame and will crawl up your leg to get food. They'll eat out of your hand. The aquarium has beluga whales, killer whales, a dolphin, otters (some from the Exxon Valdese wreck), seals, an octopus, snakes, eels, tons-o-fish, etc., etc. Unfortunately, no squids. There are roving flocks of geese and a few peacocks in the zoo area. We took a nap after all that. I was still feeling tired. We woke up in the nick of time for dinner. We went to a revolving restaurant on top of the Sheraton. The view of the city was impressive. Our hotel is on Robson street, "the liveliest street in Vancouver," according to one of our travel books. Every time I hear a siren, I wish I had my new scanner with me. The weather is pretty crummy. It drizzles most of the time. We traveled to the Pacific northwest and forgot to bring an umbrella. We might as well have gone to Alaska without a coat. We bought one at a drug store. The weather is at least pretty warm; about 9 Celsius (48 Fahrenheit).

Friday, December 27, 1991:
I watched the seaplanes on final to the harbor from the hotel room this morning. I'm in range of three separate ATIS's. There's only daylight between 8AM and 4PM here. Today was shopping day. We went to a mall which is three blocks long and underground. Lots of people. A lot more people wear leather here. They're very fashion conscious. Quite a few punk rocker types, too. This is a pretty liberal city. Also, there's a Chinatown, second only to San Francisco's. A veg attacked a man right in front of M. He just walked up to this poor guy and bear hugged him and started mumbling incoherently. M just about went into Kung-Foo mode; I just about took off running. Yellow? Yes. Stupid? No. The victim struggled and finally broke away. Sheesh! We had dinner at a Greek restaurant. For an appetizer, we had calamari. That's fried squid rings and tentacles. No kidding.

Saturday, December 28, 1991:
The ceiling was higher than normal today so we called Harbor Air Tours. We want to take their Alpine lakes and glaciers tour. They said the weather was marginal but it got a little better so we made a noon appointment. We walked from shopping along Denman St. to the seaplane base on the harbor front. It was several miles and we were exhausted by the time we got there. The pilot's name is Gary McLeod. He was kind of young. The airplane is a Cessna 182 (floats) with a constant speed prop. Tailnumber is C-GIAY. I never saw a checklist. The DG was never set and was about 30 degrees off the compass. He gets to wear a headset; we don't. The takeoff was VERY bumpy. It was like taking off through some real big potholes. He rotated right at 55 KIAS with the death horn blaring. Then we stayed in ground effect for a few seconds to build airspeed. We climbed steadily until we got to 8900 feet. By that time we were well into the mountains. Of course the peaks were higher than 8900' so he just flew between them. The mountains were spectacular and I took lots of pictures. We got to the Whistler ski resort and he did ground reference around the peak at a 45 degree bank angle. I was taking pictures of skiers about 200 feet below us and M was hiding her eyes and looking rather green. I think she just about lost it. Even with her new medicine, she was feeling pretty rough. Our pilot impressed me with his skill but he's a lot more daring than I am. NERVES. He was very nice and even flew us further than the official route for the tour. He flew the circuit counterclockwise rather than the usual clockwise because he said that way most of the scenery would be on my side. He was right. Unfortunately, he was a bit unfamiliar with the way things looked that way around so he was turned around watching out the back of the plane to get his bearings a lot. Not so bad until you're flying right at a mountain peak. Ah, well. We made it. He also flys conventional bush pilot flights, resupplying fishing camps, etc. The water landing seemed a bit smoother. The death horn was wailing again. What a guy! He kept the prop back for the whole approach and landing. There was no yoke or peddles on my side. M turned a more human color once we were on the ground.

We had lunch at a Chinese noodle house. I ordered the house noodle soup. It came with squid. Complete with tentacles. No kidding. They tasted real fishy and chewy like rubber bands. We went back to Stanley Park in the afternoon. We fed the geese popcorn. The black squirrels just sniffed it. It seems squirrels don't like popcorn. Some lady gave us some nuts so we could feed them. They crawled up our legs to get the nuts. We tried to take some pictures but it was getting dark. I hope they come out. We walked a lot today. Dinner was at a Mexican restaurant. There are bums everywhere.

Sunday, December 29, 1991:
We walked down to Granville Island today. That's on the south side of downtown. It's a big marketplace with lots of little shops. It is now clear to me that M's revenge for making her woozy on the seaplane is to drag me through EVERY shop in Vancouver. My feet are bruised. Literally. Oh well. It was definitely worth it. M made her own hair barrette out of beads and such in one shop. I waited outside and listened to a street musician. He was pretty good. We took the city bus to the Museum of Anthropology on the Univ. of B.C. campus. What an adventure! We had no bus information/schedules. (What? Us prepared?) I took to asking the drivers (yes, it took more than one bus) and fellow bus buddies what bus to take and where to get off. Everybody was very nice and helpful. More than usual in the U.S. The museum was overwhelming. There were MANY items, all carefully numbered and cataloged, but there were no informative plaques or anything. There were rows and rows of glass cases and chests of drawers, all full of artifacts, and occasionally a big book where you could look up the artifact number (I never did figure out their numbering system) and get more information. All very confusing. It was a good research facility but not very good for the casual museum-goer. We caught the busses back to Granville Island for a late lunch and more shopping until the shops closed. Then we took the ferry back to the downtown area and walked back to the hotel.

Monday, December 30, 1991:
This morning we went to the Dr. Sun Yat-Sen classical Chinese garden in Chinatown. It was very nice. Every rock, every carving, every little pebble is there for a purpose and has meaning. The whole thing is done with the Taoist philosophy (yin-yang) of light against dark, hard against soft, etc. We had lunch in Chinatown in what can only be described as a Chinese cafeteria. It was sit-down style (not buffet) but was cafeteria-like in atmosphere. Picture Mel's diner, only bigger and Chinese. We were the only non-Chinese people there. The food was great, only they gave us too much. As usual. We spent the afternoon walking through Gastown. It's the historic district, where the first saloon stood and so forth. Now it's been renovated and is pretty touristy with lots of quaint shops. There's an interesting clock on a street corner that is steam powered. We got back after dark as usual. I'm exhausted and my feet are still bruised. It's been great.

Tuesday, December 31, 1991:
San Jose - We're here for three hours waiting for a flight to Dallas. As we were taxiing to leave Vancouver, we saw the sun rise. It was the first time I'd really seen the sun in a week. It's going to be a beautiful day in Vancouver. Of course. All the customs stuff was taken care of in Vancouver. Nothing to do now but breathe the smog. Pitiful view of the runway. M went off shopping. (Surprise!) I feel safe: she only has Canadian money. The pilot on the way down here was the same one that took us from here up to Vancouver last week - the one who let me sit in his seat. He uses the same lines (jokes?) on the intercom during the flight. Coming into San Jose, we flew right by Mount St. Helens. It was pretty. Then we flew right over the Golden Gate Bridge and downtown San Francisco. All the houses in San Jose are right on top of each other, no yards to speak of. Only a small strip (about five feet) until you touch the next house. And most give up what yard they have to put in a pool. Thousands and thousands of houses all jammed together. Thank you, no.

Raleigh - Well what do you know. On the flight from San Jose to Dallas we finally got to ride in one of the big boys - an MD11. That baby's huge! Not only that, but somehow, we ended up in business class. I still can't figure that one out. Big leather seats and everything. We spent an hour in Dallas and then rode a B-727 back to Raleigh. At the stroke of midnight, we were about a mile west of the Harrison Ave. exit on I-40. Happy New Year!

Six years and one week ago, on Christmas day, 1985, I sat for several hours in the radio room of a cruise liner off the coast of Freeport, Bahamas. I was trying to place ship to shore calls to my sisters to wish them a merry Christmas. It took a while for the calls to go through, so I passed the time talking with the radio officer. He was Greek and had been working on ships since he was a boy. He had a poster on the wall from a travel agent's office. It was promoting Greece and showed a small village on the top of a cliff. The buildings were all dazzling white, the grass was a rich green, and the aqua blue of the Mediterranean Sea was balanced by an incredible blue sky. At the bottom, in bold letters, was the word, "Greece." It was one of those posters designed to make your mouth water for a faraway land. It did. The radio man pointed to one particular house on the cliff. It was his parent's house. I asked him, of all the places he'd ever been, where was his favorite. He said, "Vancouver." After being there a week, I've decided that, although I haven't been to as many places as the radio man, this is one of the best. However, I also came to the conclusion that the radio man was there while the sun was shining.