Well dang…

A tradition has ended…

Fearless flyers will laugh in the face of superstition today when they board the last ever Flight 666 to HEL on Friday the 13th. Travelling on the “unluckiest day of the year” could save you some pounds, but a journey straight to HEL on the 13th hour of the superstitious date is one flight most would probably like to avoid.

Since 2006, Finnair has done a single flight each Friday the 13th, from Copenhagen (CPH) to Helsinki  (HEL), with the flight number AY666…

Full article, HERE from the Telegraph.

Comments

Well dang… — 8 Comments

  1. I’ve gotten some really good workouts from pushing my luck, but I don’t think I’d tackle that one. Seems like too much sugar for a cent, as Grandpa used to say!

  2. Hey Old NFO;

    This would be one hell of a story for the bucket list, especially for regaling our friends in the nursing home, lol

  3. Hi Jim, tried to send you an email this am but got notification that the Comcast addy in no good. If you would, could you send me an active one? Got something I really want you to see but don’t want to put it here! Sorry about non thread answers. My address is XXXXXX. Thanks I’m sure you will like this. Best Everett

  4. BP- Yep! It’s real!

    Bob- LOL, good point, but sadly I didn’t do it…

    Ev- Check your email.

  5. I can’t remember if I’ve ever told this story to you and your other readers.

    I was in VP-56 flying P-3C’s. We were deployed to Bermuda at the time. My crew had been tasked with supporting a series of tests of an intermediate acoustic detection system down at the acoustic range in Roosy Roads, Puerto Rico. Our part of the test was to drop explosive SUS (Sound Underwater Signal) at various ranges from the acoustic array to get accurate decibel levels of detection on the array. So, when we took off from Bermuda, every spare nook and cranny of the aircraft was filled with cases of Mk-64 SUS. 30 cases, with 6 SUS per case. Each SUS had a 1.8 pound, electrically fired charge. A total of 324 pounds of explosives on the aircraft.

    When we arrived in Roosy Roads, things were not going so well. There were problems with the air dropped acoustic array. The techs from the manufacturer were pulling their hair out and messed around with the system for a couple of days, but eventually, the entire test was cancelled. So, we loaded up the plane again with all our suitcases and gear and the 30 cases of SUS and took off for a nice night time flight back to Bermuda.

    The first half of the flight was smooth and uneventful. But we were heading into some feeder bands of a hurricane that was making it’s way up the Florida coast. We tried to maneuver around a bit to find a clear path through, but eventually, we had to penetrate the band.

    Oh man, everything went to hell in a split second. There was a huge flash outside as lightning struck the wing. Then the whole plane lurched sideways as if a huge hand shoved us, then the bottom fell out as we were caught in a microburst downdraft. Most of the crew were back in the galley area when things went bad. We all got dumped into the aisle when the plane went sideways, then as the plane plummeted we all started floating throughout the aircraft. Myself and the off duty flight engineer floated up the tube and came down next to the acoustic stations. We grabbed onto the seat pedestals and hung on for the rest of the ride. The TACCO and NAV were already in their seats so all they had to do was strap in. The In Flight Tech and Ordnanceman were at the aft observer windows being bounced between the overhead and the deck. The ordnanceman really got his knees screwed up bad when he was slammed on the deck the first time. There was lots of screaming, the engines were maxed out as the pilots fought to try and get out of the downdraft. Later, they told us we went from 28,000 feet to 11,000 feet in about 26 seconds. With all that going on, not a single one of those cases of Mk-64’s moved an inch. And none of them were tied down. (Also, we didn’t blow up when struck by lightning)

    And this all happened October 31, Halloween night, 1979 in the heart of the Bermuda Triangle.

    I’ll skip the flight to HEL, I’ve already done that.