I remember summer vacations in rented Senecas, Saratogas, or Navajos in the 70s and 80s. Often, those flying trips would take the family south of our home in Texas. A memorable excursion one year took us to Belize; I think it was called British Honduras back then. There is a little island off the mainland called Ambergris Caye. The island at the time had a packed conch-shell-covered runway, no lighting, and very sparse aircraft services. I wouldn’t even call it an airport; just a remote landing strip.
After a fuel and lunch stop in Tampico, Mexico (at which my younger brother became ill from a hamburguesa at the airport), we made it to Belize City on the mainland for customs checks. My parents both spoke Spanish and were regulars flying privately south of the border, so they knew the routine.
Once the dog and pony show was complete at customs, we were on our way again. The short hop to the island was uneventful, but the sun was setting, and visibility dimming. My dad called down to the radio operator on the island, asking if they could light the runway in some way. That they did.
Once in the pattern, we saw the solution. Two pickup trucks, one on each end of the runway, were shining their high beams toward the other truck. It wasn’t the same as REILs, but it would do. Night hadn’t completely set in; we had just enough light to continue.
Those were the days. The island, back then, was populated mainly with locals. There were no big houses or expensive golf carts, and evenings consisted of great seafood, neighborhood soccer matches, and watching sunsets over the gentle waves of the reef. I haven’t been there for a long time, but I sense it has changed.
Dig in and enjoy this month’s article on international trip planning. It has changed quite a bit since I was a kid. We also get to experience family flying as Lawrence Searcy takes us on a journey, discovering the value of family time and disconnecting.
