Leg 011

"The vibrating rust belt"

Wanda is carrying 3 FSEconomy passengers, me and a full load of fuel with plenty of room to spare.  What an animal!

It feels good to accomplish real work.  The big crate is unloaded, the fuel tanks are topped, there is coffee in my hand and the three passengers are ready to continue to their destination on the Venezuelan coast.

I'm sitting in the cockpit, preparing for the leg ahead while the passengers take their last moments to stretch their legs.  Today's second flight will be a 75-minute, 180 mile trek to Barcelona.  Looking at the weight and balance worksheet, it seems the best plan will be to climb all the way up to 10,500 feet for best fuel efficiency and smooth air.  The forecast tells me that I might find a freezing level somewhere above 6,000 feet, so it will be good for Wanda's engines also.  If she flies according to the book, we should be at our cruise altitude in exactly 7 minutes.  Let's see what happens.

I give a respectful whistle to the passengers as the signal to climb aboard one more time.  As they get comfortable, I run my workflow with industrial efficiency.  Let's get back to work, Wanda.

Gear up, climbing into the Venezuelan haze/industrial pollution mix.

Wanda powers up smoothly & we're off Ciudad Guayana's runway 26, pointed in the correct direction to follow the Orinoco River westward for 25 miles or so.  I clean up the configuration, keeping all six levers forward, and Wanda, even with a heavy load, rips upward at 1,500 feet per minute.  The gauges look green, so I hit shuffle, hear the opening bars of "E Lucevan le Stelle" (featuring the greatest, Pavarotti) and look out my window at the many rusted factories nestled down there.

My mind wanders to my adolescent hero, John D. Rockefeller and his magnificent creation known as Standard Oil.  I think of the ancient refineries I once visited and compare them to the still-working labyrinths below.   There are bauxite, chlorine, iron, steel and lumber yards below, each working under complex conditions to produce a refined product.

As I appreciate this metaphor for the nature of life and growing older, Wanda approaches 10,500 feet in just 6 minutes and 45 seconds.  I slowly ease the power, close the cowl flaps, tune the props and lean the mixture.  The air is smooth, the passengers are at ease, and I am ready to watch the rest of the rust belt pass under my gaze.

Passing CVG Planta de Pellas Ferrominera & the Jardines del Orinoco Cemetery Park.

When I was building my company as a younger man, I consumed every article and book available to me about Rockefeller (as well as Carnegie, Frick and Vanderbuilt).  I worked hard, in their image, and fashioned myself for success.  As I sit here today watching the facilities of similarly-driven men pass below me, a now-retired flyboy, I am reminded of one of my favorite Rockefeller statements:

I believe in the dignity of labor, whether with head or hand; that the world owes no man a living but that it owes every man an opportunity to make a living.

I created a notebook of notable quotes, committing each to memory as a method of staying focused and hungry.  This ferrous landscape below me returns my thought to an earlier time of my life and rekindles a sunken, yet visible fire of desire to create.

There's the Puente Orinoquia bridge.

As the rust belt gives way to the mighty Orinoco, I think of one final Rockefeller piece of wisdom:

Thrift is essential to well-ordered living.

I've experienced enough in my life to completely agree.  In fact, this journey is yet another representation of this principle.  Wanda and I are working as much as possible, to achieve as much as possible, using limited resources gained only from our efforts or those we have compensated handsomely.  And in this task, I have found and cared for a lovely aircraft, capable of showing me unbelievable moments of pleasure and satisfaction.  To be well-ordered is to be happy.

I press shuffle once again, ready to regain my focus on the airplane and Michelle Branch's "All You Wanted" floats into my ears.  Yes, Michelle, I understand.

Seeing freezing temperatures for the first time this trip.  Ah, sweet relief.

As we edge closer to the Venezuelan coast, the air begins to cool.  I am surprised to look down and see -1 degree Centigrade on the OAT gauge.  'Congratulations, Wanda' I say.  'You've just experienced your first moments of frozen air.'  This circumnavigation quest will surely give us lots of freezing temperatures, but it is special in this moment, especially after more than six weeks of stifling heat and humidity.

The gauges look good, my playlist is now playing "Hottest Thing" by Usher (completely un-ironically) and we are making great progress.

Below is highway 16, running northwest from Ciudad Bolívar to San Tomé.  We'll follow this major artery all the way into Barcelona now.

High above San Tomé & Aeropuerto Nacional Don Edmundo Barrios.

Within a few moments we're overflying the tan wonderland of San Tomé.  The landscape is an interesting one, as it is mostly dirt, but spotted with an alien green 9-hole golf course and several dozen turquoise swimming pools.  There remain plenty of little factories, warehouses and workshops down there, each serving as a reminder of the enterprising spirit of the Venezuelan people.  Recent history has not been kind to them, but this trip has taught me to appreciate their plight, recognize their potential and respect their courage.

The brown landscape quickly turns more green as the topography rises and gives way to more forests, rapid streams and gentle rolling hills.  The clouds also begin to thicken as I faintly hear the ATIS for SVBC.  It looks like there will be scattered rain, low clouds and high humidity there on the coast.  For now I'll plan a visual into runway 15, unless the weather drops further.

With the rising humidity in the air & reduced power on decent, Wanda needs some extra carb heat help.

Almost precisely on cue, I begin to feel a vibration in Wanda's right engine.  My eyes dart to the gauges and I see the obvious signs of carb ice: reduced MP and RPM on the right side.  The temperature is back to 1 degree Centigrade, and with the rising humidity and developing visual moisture, it is not surprising that the non-fuel-injected Lycomings might decide to make frozen margaritas in their respective carburetors.

For the first time of this journey while airborne, I add in carb heat on both sides.  Based on previous experience with the Lycoming O-320, I expect the vibration to stop within 5-10 seconds; however, the vibration continues another 20 seconds before finally dying down to a low whisper.  I can't tell if it completely is gone or is simply a quiet shadow lurking in the background.  Whatever the case, I'll monitor the MP and RPM very closely and have a mechanic look at it when on the ground.  For now it is time to get below the clouds and descend carefully above the valley that leads to Barcelona.

Headed inside the FBO to find a mechanic to give me the low down on this new vibration.  Will it be Beach Boys (good) or Bad Juju (bad)?

As ATIS promised, the clouds are low and rain is surrounding the airport, but somehow, that long majestic runway 15 is completely under blue skies.  ATC tells me that a heavy shower passed through the area only 10 minutes ago, but for now, I am clear to enter the right downwind for 15.  I keep the pattern very tight, especially with a gentle vibration still present (maybe), turning a sporty base leg and make a smooth touchdown on runway 15.  Wanda brings us all safely to the FBO ramp only 1 hour and 10 minutes after lifting off from the heart of the rust belt.  I thank the STA Tumeremo passengers, wish them a pleasant day, and then head into the terminal to inquire about a mechanic to offer his or her opinion on the vibration.  Let's see if there is an issue and if the solution is thrifty or not.