Bad flying experiences?

[oddyager]

Damn pilot probably too busy feeling up the flight attendant's tatas.

 

[AmpedSilence]

After a flight, I typed the following email to a few friends...

So, last night I flew out to Seattle for work. Considering the morning I was having, I wasn't expecting anything to go right (or at least as right as they can go flying out of Philadelphia).

I grab a cab from Broad and Chestnut. Piece of cake, 30 minutes later I'm pulling into the United Terminal at Philadelphia. Good times, hey, maybe things won't be as bad as i think. Ah, false optimism only to be crushed later.

I go to check-in at the counter and apparently my UNITED confirmation code is only good at US AIRWAYS counters. Makes perfect sense, right? I mean thats what I would have thought, too! So, trudge my way over to the US Airways terminal. A five minute walk, but one that I didn't (or shouldn't) need to make.

Check in. Go up and have a nice beer and brushetta for a snack before the flight. They were sold out of most of the beers on the menu, but ordered an Italian beer. When it arrived, I realize that it was the one that I had on Alitalia that I HATED! Yay! So, now I have fine garlicy breadth from the brushetta and a slight buzz from a terrible beer. Let's get on this plane!

Under such a great state, I decided "Let Me call Swati, since she texted me this morning." Genius Idea, if i have to say so, most awkward call ever.

Anyway, I board the flight and the terminal is emptying steadily and still no one around me. Yes! I might get the row to myself and can relax. Nope, as my day continues to crush my reason to live, a fat person sits next to me. She was so fat that her rolls were invading my seat. In fact, she could NOT put the arm rest between me and herself down. For the first two hours or so, i was using her rolls as an arm rest. Gross.....

Now I usually don't care about this kind of thing. Your large and in charge, whatever; so be it. But when you start invading my space and I have to use to your FAT as an arm rest. I get pissy. Then to top it off, when it was time for the drinks; she opens a soda bottle and it explodes all over me. So, not only am I sitting here on your fat rolls, now I am covered in DIET Dr. Pepper (cause you know the DIET portion of it is going to save your fat ass from a heart attack or from getting larger). In addition, to the liter of soda, she also pulls a gallon-sized (yes, gallon sized) ziplock bag half filled with cookies, a bag of gummy bears, and two ham and cheese sandwiches.

So, after she gets up to go to the bathroom, I force the arm rest down and firmly place my elbows on it to make sure she has to move her ass out of the way. HAHA, bitch i am marking my territory and you can't do anything to stop it! Alas, that failed also. When she sat down, the rolls just covered the arm that resting so nicely on the arm rest. I had been defeated once again.

The rest of the flight was as uneventful of flight you could ask for (except for jubba the hut on my left hand side).

The only redeeming thing of the entire DAY was that on my right hand side was a cute girl that was on her way back from a month long tour of Madrid and Paris (two weeks in each city). We traded stories and actually had a pretty good conversation about just random stuff. She also didn't mind me moving into her seat a bit when it came to take a nap on the flight (as I didn't mind her leaning up against me ). In retrospect, I should have gotten number or email, or at least a name.... Once again life finds a way to defeat me.

Overall, I have to say that April 8th, 2008; has probably been the crappiest days of my life in a long time.

 

[kranky]

Originally posted by: Drakkon
I flew from LA to Phoenix during summer one time and we went through some pretty intense thunderclouds - so not only were we dropping like rocks every few minutes but you would see lightening and feel thunder every so often. Luckily the plane was never struck just felt like it a few times from the drops we took.

Another bad flight was coming in to St Louis during a thunderstorm the plane makes it about right over the runway and just drops. It comes down HARD. lucky everything stayed intact and we came to a stop but even the pilot came over the radio and said 'sorry - never come down that hard before'.

That's when you say to the pilot as you exit the plane, "Did we land, or were we shot down?"

 

[SaoFeng]

i was flying from Taipei to Bali w/my family.....

i fly a lot for work (and I mean a lot), so i pretty much know what sounds are normal, and what are not normal on an airplane.

as we taxi for takeoff, i hear a strange sound, and i turn to my fiancee and say "that is not a good sound."

anyway, a half hr into the flight, the sound gets very loud. it sounds like a hydraulic pump trying to pump fluid, but not working (i have an engineering background).

the whole flight hears it, and they get very nervous..my mom is freaking out (she already hates flying), and my fiancee is freaking out.

i am secretly freaking out inside, but i try and stay calm and level headed.

the whole plane is freaking out because the sound gets very loud and the plane starts to lurch along.

the pilot gets on the intercom and states that they have to turn around back to taipei.

so as we land, we see a shitload of ambulances, fire trucks, police, all flashing their sirens and waiting for us....it was a decent landing though.

that was my worst flight experience, since i was scared shitless that if we crashed, my family and fiancee are all on the plane and they would be goners too.

 

[AmpedSilence]

Another experience, though this was not personally lived through...

My Dad and my Uncle were returning from India in 1989 (My mom, brother, and myself were still in India). Some time after taking off in Bombay, one of the engines failed and caught fire. Because of relations with Pakenstan at the time, they were not allowed to land in the country. From what my uncle tells me, they flew about 500 feet above the ocean until they could return to Bombay in the event that another engine failed and they needed to ditch. I can't even imagine not freaking out over something like that.

 

[UnatcoAgent]

Originally posted by: SaoFeng
i was flying from Taipei to Bali w/my family.....

i fly a lot for work (and I mean a lot), so i pretty much know what sounds are normal, and what are not normal on an airplane.

as we taxi for takeoff, i hear a strange sound, and i turn to my fiancee and say "that is not a good sound."

anyway, a half hr into the flight, the sound gets very loud. it sounds like a hydraulic pump trying to pump fluid, but not working (i have an engineering background).

the whole flight hears it, and they get very nervous..my mom is freaking out (she already hates flying), and my fiancee is freaking out.

i am secretly freaking out inside, but i try and stay calm and level headed.

the whole plane is freaking out because the sound gets very loud and the plane starts to lurch along.

the pilot gets on the intercom and states that they have to turn around back to taipei.

so as we land, we see a shitload of ambulances, fire trucks, police, all flashing their sirens and waiting for us....it was a decent landing though.

that was my worst flight experience, since i was scared shitless that if we crashed, my family and fiancee are all on the plane and they would be goners too.

Did they tell you what was wrong with the plane? That is absolutely terrifying!!

 

[Alyx]

I wish I'd been on a flight with hard turbulence. I get so bored. I don't get sick from stuff like that and it all sounds kind of exciting. On the other hand I'd hate to put the other passengers through it, I think my girl friend would die, she freaks out just from normal flights.

 

[Suspicious-Teach8788]

I freak out with turbulence and I close my eyes. This is real. This ain't no rollercoaster. I can hands free look down and give myself a heartattack on rollercoasters, but on a plane? Nope. I close my eyes and hold on for dear life when severe turbulence strikes. Light turbulence I just live through it, and if it's moderate I try to close my eyes and sleep it off.

 

[Atomic Playboy]

My worst plane story, which I'm reposting from earlier because the details don't really ever change...

I'm fortunate enough to have a wealthy godmother who likes to travel. When I was in 8th grade, she took me for a weeklong trip to the Galapagos. Everything went swimmingly, and it's by far the best trip I've ever taken in my life. I highly recommend everyone go if they ever get an opportunity.

So the very last night of the trip, we ran out of bottled water. Well, that was no problem, we had some Sprite, so things were fine. We had heard the horror stories about drinking the water, and we knew that wasn't something we wanted to experience. I'm getting ready for bed, ready for the 20 hours of traveling the next day would hold.

When you are a child, you live a life of routine. My routine prior to going to bed was to brush my teeth. This routine was reinforced by dentists who would scare the shit out of me by showing me pictures of kids who didn't brush and floss every day; their teeth would be rotted out, black and grimy, sticking out of their gums in awkward directions, or simply gone from their mouth altogether. Consequently, I made sure I brushed every damn day. But all we had was Sprite... I can't brush my teeth with soda, can I? Nah, can't be, the dentist always tells me to avoid soda too. So, I dribble two drops of water out of the faucet, put that on my toothbrush with plenty of toothpaste, brush, spit (no rinsing of course), done. I made sure I hadn't swallowed any liquid; I was in the clear.

It took less than 15 minutes to hit me. All of a sudden, my large intestine and small intestine seemed like they were attempting to swap places. A horrible gurgling noise started in my stomach, matched in tone and horror by a trembling warble allegedly coming from my mouth (though no human could have produced these sounds, of that I am most sure). My godmother gave me some unmarked pills to take, and like any 13 year old staring death in the face, I complied. All I had to drink was Sprite, but you can take a pill with soda... I mean, OK, I did just brush my teeth, but what's the dentist going to say if I die? "Well, at least he took good care of his teeth." No, I'll take the pills with soda, that will be fine.

Now, I don't know what the pills were. All I know is that they mixed with Sprite like baking soda and vinegar. Suddenly, where before there had been cramping and gurgling, now there was a full-fledged volcano brewing in my innards. But I was young and stupid, and I absolutely refused to vomit. Every bone in my body is yelling, "Just puke you shithead and this will all go away!" but I refused to believe it (what do bones know anyway). I sat in bed all night, clutching my knees to my chest, shivering and sweating, sure that I was destined to die in this roach infested third world hellhole.

The next day, we went to the airport. Normally, we would have sought out an emergency room, but when you are greeted into a country by men holding AK47s, you don't want to overstay your visa. We boarded the plane, and I embarked on the longest voyage of my life. My godmother and I parted ways in Miami, as she was bound for South Carolina and I was headed to Oregon. I spent the next 12 hours on planes and in terminals clutching my knees to my chest, hoping that my insides would rearrange themselves into a normal configuration at some point so that I would be able to straighten up without fear of fracturing vertebrae.

The best part of this experience was that as a young child traveling alone (and clearly in need of medical aid or a priest), I got to board the plane first. It was fun watching every single person get on the plane, take one look at me, then quickly doublecheck their ticket to make sure they weren't sharing a row with Pukey McDiarrhea (not that I was having either of these symptoms on the plane mind you, but I'm sure I looked like a leper who had just been injected with weaponized ebola). There's nothing more satisfying than someone saying a hail Mary before they take their seat beside you. But the small joy that this would make an excellent story for parties was quickly surpassed by the overwhelming agony that only someone suffering from La Turista in a tin can in turbulence at 30,000 feet can truly appreciate.

I eventually made it home, and spent the next 14 hours safely on a toilet, emptying myself of the evil that had purged my fragile body while my mom called around to see where we could find replacement organs for the ones I had just forcefully ejected from my torso. All's well that ends well, and to that end I survived and had a hell of a time in the Galapagos. But I'd sooner let every tooth rot out of my head than brush my teeth with Ecuadorian tapwater again.

 

[UnatcoAgent]

Originally posted by: Atomic Playboy
My worst plane story, which I'm reposting from earlier because the details don't really ever change...

I'm fortunate enough to have a wealthy godmother who likes to travel. When I was in 8th grade, she took me for a weeklong trip to the Galapagos. Everything went swimmingly, and it's by far the best trip I've ever taken in my life. I highly recommend everyone go if they ever get an opportunity.

So the very last night of the trip, we ran out of bottled water. Well, that was no problem, we had some Sprite, so things were fine. We had heard the horror stories about drinking the water, and we knew that wasn't something we wanted to experience. I'm getting ready for bed, ready for the 20 hours of traveling the next day would hold.

When you are a child, you live a life of routine. My routine prior to going to bed was to brush my teeth. This routine was reinforced by dentists who would scare the shit out of me by showing me pictures of kids who didn't brush and floss every day; their teeth would be rotted out, black and grimy, sticking out of their gums in awkward directions, or simply gone from their mouth altogether. Consequently, I made sure I brushed every damn day. But all we had was Sprite... I can't brush my teeth with soda, can I? Nah, can't be, the dentist always tells me to avoid soda too. So, I dribble two drops of water out of the faucet, put that on my toothbrush with plenty of toothpaste, brush, spit (no rinsing of course), done. I made sure I hadn't swallowed any liquid; I was in the clear.

It took less than 15 minutes to hit me. All of a sudden, my large intestine and small intestine seemed like they were attempting to swap places. A horrible gurgling noise started in my stomach, matched in tone and horror by a trembling warble allegedly coming from my mouth (though no human could have produced these sounds, of that I am most sure). My godmother gave me some unmarked pills to take, and like any 13 year old staring death in the face, I complied. All I had to drink was Sprite, but you can take a pill with soda... I mean, OK, I did just brush my teeth, but what's the dentist going to say if I die? "Well, at least he took good care of his teeth." No, I'll take the pills with soda, that will be fine.

Now, I don't know what the pills were. All I know is that they mixed with Sprite like baking soda and vinegar. Suddenly, where before there had been cramping and gurgling, now there was a full-fledged volcano brewing in my innards. But I was young and stupid, and I absolutely refused to vomit. Every bone in my body is yelling, "Just puke you shithead and this will all go away!" but I refused to believe it (what do bones know anyway). I sat in bed all night, clutching my knees to my chest, shivering and sweating, sure that I was destined to die in this roach infested third world hellhole.

The next day, we went to the airport. Normally, we would have sought out an emergency room, but when you are greeted into a country by men holding AK47s, you don't want to overstay your visa. We boarded the plane, and I embarked on the longest voyage of my life. My godmother and I parted ways in Miami, as she was bound for South Carolina and I was headed to Oregon. I spent the next 12 hours on planes and in terminals clutching my knees to my chest, hoping that my insides would rearrange themselves into a normal configuration at some point so that I would be able to straighten up without fear of fracturing vertebrae.

The best part of this experience was that as a young child traveling alone (and clearly in need of medical aid or a priest), I got to board the plane first. It was fun watching every single person get on the plane, take one look at me, then quickly doublecheck their ticket to make sure they weren't sharing a row with Pukey McDiarrhea (not that I was having either of these symptoms on the plane mind you, but I'm sure I looked like a leper who had just been injected with weaponized ebola). There's nothing more satisfying than someone saying a hail Mary before they take their seat beside you. But the small joy that this would make an excellent story for parties was quickly surpassed by the overwhelming agony that only someone suffering from La Turista in a tin can in turbulence at 30,000 feet can truly appreciate.

I eventually made it home, and spent the next 14 hours safely on a toilet, emptying myself of the evil that had purged my fragile body while my mom called around to see where we could find replacement organs for the ones I had just forcefully ejected from my torso. All's well that ends well, and to that end I survived and had a hell of a time in the Galapagos. But I'd sooner let every tooth rot out of my head than brush my teeth with Ecuadorian tapwater again.

Same thing happened to me in Cuba, I was sick or 3 weeks.

 

[zoiks]

Originally posted by: Bignate603

Originally posted by: DeathBUA
Worse experience two times was flying back from Australia, once in 2002 and once again last year in 2007.

Apparently trade winds somewhere between Fiji and New Zealand. I'll tell you when you are on a 747, the 2nd largest commercial plane in existence and you see the wings flexing all over the damn place and the plane shaking and dropping like a massive stone it scares the piss out of you. It went on like that for about an hour of that 14 hour flight. Sucked the big one, after that I couldn't sleep at all despite being exhausted.

What's scarier is knowing that there are guidelines about acceptable crack sizes in those wings that are flexing all over the place where they still allow them to fly. Aluminum fatigue is a scary thing.

The wing is made up one big metal crystal so its incredibly strong. I've seen a video on it where they subjected huge forces on a 747's wing in a test hanger so much that the wings were practically a V and they still held on.

 

[akshatp]

Originally posted by: Descartes
My neighbor is a captain for AirTran, and he's described some pretty wild flights in his career. He told me that he's had a few like you described, and most of the time it was due to a "near miss."

It's not a near miss, its a near hit...

<Planes crash>
Bystander 1: Wow look at that!!
Bystander 2: Yea, they nearly missed
Bystander 1: Yes, but not quite!!!

 

[NikolaeVarius]

Man, I love turbulence. Gets me a rush when the plane drops. Had a one and a half foot drop once. Great experiance marred by crying kids.

Its kind of cool exactly how much the wings of a plane can flex. They can bend several feet without breaking.

 

[CallMeJoe]

Originally posted by: zoiks
The wing is made up one big metal crystal so its incredibly strong. I've seen a video on it where they subjected huge forces on a 747's wing in a test hanger so much that the wings were practically a V and they still held on.

A big metal crystal with ribs and rivets and inspection panels?


My personal worst was a test flight confirming an autopilot repair on a Lear 60; the pilot didn't tell us he also needed to do stall tests on the flight. He pulls back the throttles and pulls up the nose until the wings lose their lift...several times...I'm just glad I never eat a heavy lunch at work.