Night at the Spring Dance Hall

by Split Scimitar

Rating: teen
Tags: Equestria Girls, Sex, Mario, Dean Cadance, Main 7 (EqG), Slice of Life, Alternate Universe, Human, Shadowbolts (EqG), Original Character
Length: 20880

Crystal Prep, with a new principal, takes their Spring Dance up another notch.

Canterlot City is an “exclave” within the Sacramento metro. Within its town proper is Crystal Prep Academy. Cadance successfully applied for the position of Principal at Crystal Prep after what could only be described as a tumultuous state of affairs in their administrative world. Their arch-rival, Canterlot High School, is similarly an “exclave” within Rancho Cordova, one of Sacramento’s suburbs. Sol and Selena used to work at Canterlot High before they moved to the nation’s capital.

Because of the nature of her work, Cadance now has to split time between Sacramento and Anchorage. CPA was kind enough to assist with finding living accommodations, since I do not have any real estate in that region (unless she wanted to commute from San Francisco, which was not really an option due to the 100-mile distance one way, plus the obvious schedule strain of being an administrator.)

In her first year as Principal, her ambitious student association approached her with the prospect of their Spring Dance, which after last year’s success, feels needed to be outdone. Their idea involves Hawaii, a dream vacation destination for many and certainly a way to outdo a simple evening on a yacht.

Mario tag as Rosalina appears. No other characters appear.

Rated T for abrasiveness.

EDIT: Sex tag added for mildly explicit reference to genitalia used in a historical context in the final chapter.

A/N: Reviewing the map of Canterlot City, coupled to the general acceptance of Canterlot being a California city, Sacramento best fits the geophysical description and is most analogous to the rendering.

Also A/N: Cover image cropped to emphasize freeway signage.

Published 2020-04-15 07:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2020-04-25 07:00:12 UTC

Overture: Cadance’s Interview

“Hello?”

“Hi Max, this is Cadance. How are you doing?”

“Oh, I’ve been well. Just a bit busier than usual. How are you?”

“I’m doing well also.”

“That’s good. How can I help you?”

“I have a job interview in Sacramento. Can I charter you?”

“What day would you like me to show?”

“Can you come in… two days?”

“Can be done. How much are you planning to bring cargo-wise? Any baggage?”

“One suitcase plus a carry on at most.”

“But not like a car or anything, no? You can rent from me or I can add a driver service, or you can bring your car with you.”

“Oh! I guess I can rent a car from you.”

“Okay. What kind of car would you like? Economy, full-size, midsize, luxury?”

“Oh, just send me with the cheapest one you can.”

“Alright. Do you have lodging in Sacramento?”

“I do.”

“Perfect. I’ll make my way to Anchorage then. I’ll collect other information when we meet.”

“Perfect. Thank you so much! I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon, bye!”

“Joshua departure, Boeing 8600F, IFR to Anchorage.”

“Boeing 8600F, cleared to Anchorage airport via as filed. Maintain 12,000. Departure this frequency, squawk 4212.”

“Cleared to Anchorage via as filed, 12,000, departure 24.55, squawk 4212, Boeing 8600F.”

“Boeing 00F, readback correct, void in 30 minutes. Talk to you on the go.”

“00F.”

Takeoff thrust set.

80 knots.

V1

Rotate.

V2

Positive rate, gear up.

Flaps up.

“Joshua departure, Boeing 8600F off Victorville, 3,200 for 12,000, turning direct HELDE.”

“Boeing 8600F, Joshua departure, radar contact 2 miles Southwest Victorville. Cleared direct Palmdale, climb and maintain 14,000.”

“Direct Palmdale, 14,000, 8600F.”

“Boeing 8600F, descend via the WITTI Four arrival, expect runway from tower, runway change in progress. Contact Anchorage approach on 118.6.”

“WITTI Four, 118.6, 8600F.” “Anchorage Approach, Boeing 8600F on the WITTI four.”

“Boeing 8600F, Anchorage approach, Roger.”

As I get ready to begin descending, I quickly use the bathroom and secure cabin before taking full manual control on a visual to runway 15. Calm winds allow for full simultaneous takeoffs and landings just like San Francisco, a program that is in its early testing here in Anchorage.

“N8600F, welcome to Anchorage. Continue all the way to the end, hold on the threshold. Traffic inbound on the ILS for 7R.”

“Hold on the numbers for runway 33, 8600F.”

“FedEx 14, runway 7R, cleared to land.”

“Cleared to land 7R, FedEx 14.”

The aircraft, a 777F, touches down gracefully and settles onto its struts, sinking to its lowest just as they roll past me, reverser doors, spoilers, and flaps wide open.

“Boeing 00F, K E, hold short runway 7L.”

“K E, short of 7L, 00F.”

“Polar 736, runway 7L, cleared for takeoff. Turn right heading 110.”

“Cleared for takeoff 7L, 110, Polar 736.”

As the 747 Freighter roars past, the wing-flex feels oddly poetic with Cadance being my current client (~~though maybe it would make more sense with either Sol or Celestia~~). Nevertheless, soon after I receive further taxi instructions, I race over to their house and collect Cadance. Shining is on duty at the base, so Flurry Heart has to travel with her. Having an airplane all to herself will come in handy, especially if her daughter, based on my previous experience, wants to wander about the cabin.

For obvious reasons, I warn her, we should probably run a closed-door cockpit, which means I have to teach Cadance both how to call the flight deck and in case of emergency, open the door.

Calling the flight deck is easy, just pick up the phone and press 1. Opening the cockpit door however can be a bit of a dance. On the ground, it’s just a simple keypad entry. In flight, it’s another story. Basically, if the door is closed, anyone who wishes to come in has to call the flight deck, then enter the code on the keypad. Immediately after, I have to hold a switch as they simultaneously enter the code. It’s because of this dance that if anyone wants to enter, usually I just have them call the cockpit and I open the door from my side, and so that I don’t give away the code.

I trust Cadance understands the proper usage, and will likely be too busy tending to her daughter than interested in sitting in the cockpit. Nevertheless, once all aboard and set, we set off for Sacramento.

Because no one else is available, I am tasked with babysitting Flurry Heart. Since she’s quite a bit older now, I can do more things than simply let her crawl around. She has toys that she likes to play with, so I oblige her as much as possible but give her free reign, since despite her age, she’s actually pretty sharp.

Cadance will spend two nights here, tonight and tomorrow night, before returning home. Since her interview is tomorrow, I’m on babysitting duty for at least that time. The extra night is for Flurry Heart’s sake, and for her own peace of mind so Flurry Heart isn’t too overwhelmed by the flights.

Her tentative plan should she get hired is to find an apartment for the academic year, but otherwise remain in Anchorage. As for Flurry Heart, she should only be affected minimally. With Shining Armor accruing enough seniority, he can take more time off now. Obviously, she will miss her mother from time to time, even for someone who is still a baby child. That’s where I come in, obviously.

Next morning, after Cadance knocks on my hotel room door, I head to their room to begin my care of Flurry Heart. Fortunately, since her interview is in the mid-morning, we’ve all gotten a good amount of sleep. In fact, when I’m summoned to the other room, the baby is still asleep.

“Okay.” She says as she smooths out her hair and suit.

“Oh, hang on. Flared collar in the back.” I say as I fix it for her. “Now we’re good. Here’re the keys. Best of luck to you.”

“Thanks Max. Shining Armor should be in touch. I imagine he’ll want to FaceTime to see Flurry Heart.”

“He should communicate with me directly then.”

“I told him to do so. I just hope he remembers the time difference.”

“Eh, it’s only 1 hour.”

*Shining Armor would like FaceTime*

“Speaking of…” I say as I answer, propping up my phone against the wall.

“Hey Max!” He calls. “How’s my little baby?”

“She’s actually still asleep. Your wife however is just about to leave for the interview.”

“Oh good. I wanted to talk to her real quick, but… it is kind of personal.”

“No problem. I’ll get out of your way.”

As they make what I’m sure is a last-minute pep talk, Cadance hands my phone back to me.

“He said he might call back in an hour.”

“Okay. Best of luck to you (again)!”

“Thanks Max!”

A few hours later, after I’ve basically been holding Flurry Heart for most of the time, Cadance returns to the room to the sight of Flurry playing with her blocks, but her Whammy is right in front of me. Apparently, she gets mad if I move it, but at the same time, she’ll also get mad if I leave my “command post.” I’m figuring, she wants me to watch over her? Him? It? I should at least be a gentleman.

“Welcome back. You’ll be pleased to know she hasn’t needed a change nor has she even cried. She’s kept herself busy with her toys and making sure I don’t leave Whammy unattended.”

Cadance chuckles. “That’s a game she makes her father play whenever she’s playing.”

“Aw. Sweet.”

“Oh! Shining Armor’s calling.” She says answering the call accompanied by FaceTime sound effects.

“Hi honey!”

“How’d it go?”

“Pretty well. I should expect a response in two weeks’ time.”

“What are you going to do now?” Shining asks as I offer Cadance the watch position with Whammy.

She asks me to hold her phone while she takes her jacket off. She then takes her phone back, plops onto the bed, and puts their daughter in the picture.

“How much was this hotel?” I ask at a break in conversation.

“$220 a night.”

“Do you want to leave tonight? I’ll reimburse you.”

“No, that’s alright. I don’t want Flurry Heart to fly too quickly. Just in case she can’t equalize pressures.”

“I understand. Do you need me for anything else?”

“No, everything is good. Thank you.”

“No problem. If you need me, I’ll be in my room.”

“Okay, we can go and eat later if you want.”

“Just let me know.” I say as I head out.

Next morning, the three of us check out and have breakfast before driving back to the airport. Flurry Heart, bless her heart, did not want to sit still, so while I ended up eating at the table, Cadance spent most of the meal trying to keep her from wandering off.

With plenty of leftovers, we board and get situated for the return journey to Anchorage. Because of the prior circumstances, I unfortunately have to snap the streak and conduct a closed-cockpit flight quite literally For The First Time in Forever.

Two weeks later, I receive a call from Cadance.

“Hello?”

“Hi Max, Cadance. How are you?”

“Good, you?”

“I’m proud to say I got the job.”

“Congratulations!”

“Thank you! I need to report before May, so can you help me move?”

“Absolutely. How much do you plan on taking?”

“Nothing major outside of necessities. Just a few pieces of home.”

“Okay. Are you going to ship your car?”

“Yes.”

“With me, I assume?”

“Yes please.”

“Perfect. I can be in Alaska by tomorrow morning.”

“See you then!”

“Okay, bye.”

“Joshua departure, Crystal Prep 1, IFR to Anchorage.”

“Crystal Prep 1, cleared to Ted Stevens airport via as filed, climb and maintain 12,000, departure this frequency, 124.55, squawk 7214.”

“Cleared to Anchorage as filed, 12,000, 124.55, squawk 7214, Crystal Prep 1.”

“Crystal Prep 1, readback correct, void in 10 minutes, talk to you on the go.”

“Wilco.”

Takeoff from runway 21, flaps 10 instead of 5 and a rolling technique to practice short field operations. (Flaps 15 for runways less than 6,000.’)

80 knots.

V1

Rotate.

V2

Positive rate, gear up.

Flaps up.

“Joshua departure, Crystal Prep 1 off Victorville, 2.8 for 12,000.”

“Crystal Prep 1, Joshua departure, just in time. Radar contact 2 Southwest Victorville, turn right direct Palmdale, climb and maintain 12,000.”

“Position checks, direct Palmdale, 12,000, Crystal Prep 1.”

“Crystal Prep 1, contact Los Angeles Center, 126.35.”

“26.35, g’day, Crystal Prep 1.” “Los Angeles Center, Crystal Prep 1, 7,300 climbing 12,000.”

“Crystal Prep 1, LA Center, roger. Be advised, Anchorage will be in a flow situation by your scheduled arrival due to limited staff protocol.”

“Roger, Crystal Prep 1.”

“Anchorage approach, Crystal Prep 1, level at FL380.”

“Crystal Prep 1, Anchorage approach. Looks like you’re a few minutes early. Expect runway 7R, standby for hold instructions. For now, descend and maintain FL300.”

“FL300, Crystal Prep 1.”

“Anchorage International Airport information Kilo, 1905Z, wind variable at 4, visibility 8, Sky condition, overcast 6,000, temperature -3, dewpoint -9, altimeter 29.91. Visual runway 7L and ILS runway 7R in use. Landing and departing runway 7L and runway 7R. All aircraft contact clearance delivery prior to taxi. All aircraft read back hold short instructions. Advise on initial contact you have information Kilo.”

“Crystal Prep 1, hold west of TWIGI at FL240, proceed direct to the Kenai VOR. Expect further clearance at 1925Z.”

“Direct Kenai, hold west of TWIGI, FL240, EFC 1925, Crystal Prep 1.”

Airspeed set at 265 in preparation for hold entry. Descend and maintain FL240, time now 1907Z.

“Alaska 192, cleared ILS runway 7R approach, maintain 2,000 until established on the localizer, contact Anchorage tower on 118.3.”

“Cleared ILS 7R, 2,000 until established, tower 18.3, Alaska 192.”

*Cadance - message*

“Hey Max, we’re ready when you are. How far away are you?”

“Hopefully no more than an hour. The fog’s rolling in, so I hope we can get out before it gets too severe.”

“Likewise.”

“I’m descending now, so hopefully I can get us going quickly.”

“Keep me posted.”

“Will do.”

“Anchorage, Crystal Prep 1 is established at TWIGI.”

“Crystal Prep 1, roger. For planning purposes, new EFC 1930, you’re currently number 3. Descend in the hold, maintain 4,000. Report level at 4,000.”

“1930Z, 4,000 in hold, Crystal Prep 1.”

Speed now to 200 knots, descent as fast as practicable, around 2400 fpm.

“Dynasty 5148 heavy, maintain 190 knots on the arrival procedure, traffic a 737 inbound.”

“Slowing to 190, which aircraft is it, Dynasty 5148 heavy?”

“5148 heavy, traffic 2 o’clock, 5 miles, 12,000 descending.”

“Not yet in sight on TCAS, but we’ll expect them soon, 5148 heavy.”

“Roger. Crystal Prep 1, I want to get you in ahead of a 747. Proceed direct Kenai, descend and maintain 2,000, cleared ILS runway 7R approach.”

“Direct Kenai, 2,000, cleared ILS 7R, Crystal Prep 1.” “ILS 7R into Anchorage. Primary navaid I-ANC localizer on 111.3, approach course inbound 074°, 12,400’ of runway available, touchdown zone elevation 132, airport elevation 151. Kenai VOR transition, remain at or above 2,000 until established on course inbound to ELIAS. Once inside ELIAS, descend to no lower than 1,600 to WEWWO, glideslope intercept is TULLI at 1,600, follow glideslope down to ILS minima of 332 and 1800 RVR. Missed approach point intersection of glideslope at 332. Missed approach procedure, climb 600 then climbing right turn heading 230 to intercept Anchorage (VOR) radial 210 to JUKEP and hold. If we intercept glideslope before TULLI or 1,600, we can follow it down. Approach brief complete.”

There’s the Kenai VOR, turn left to intercept radial 008 to ELIAS.

Level at 2,000, set flaps 5.

“Crystal Prep 1, contact Anchorage tower now on 118.3.”

Turning course inbound, set flaps 10.

“Over to tower, thanks for the help, Crystal Prep 1.”

Intercepting glideslope and localizer, approach mode engage. Flaps 15 once established.

“Anchorage Tower, Crystal Prep 1, at WEWWO, ILS 7R.”

“Crystal Prep 1, Anchorage tower, runway 7R, cleared to land.”

Passing TULLI, lower landing gear.

“Cleared to land 7R, Crystal Prep 1.”

3 green, down and locked. Flaps 25.

Flaps 30, spoilers armed, brakes set to 2.

1000.

100.

50.

40.

30.

20.

10.

Touchdown, spoilers up, brakes on, 2 in reverse.

“Crystal Prep 1, where are you parking?”

“Great Circle.”

“Roger, right F, ground .9.”

“F, ground .9, Crystal Prep 1.” “Anchorage ground, Crystal Prep 1, taxi Great Circle.”

“Crystal Prep 1, Anchorage ground, taxi Great Circle via F.”

“F to Great Circle. Crystal Prep 1.”

Parked, fuel on order, and the courtesy car requested, I head for the house.

When I roll in, their two cars are packed full with things.

After I park right in front of Cadance’s car, I greet the both of them before asking if there’s anything I can do to help.

Shining Armor says no as he closes his car. “She just needs her on-person essentials and we can be on our way.”

“No problem. As long as we can get rolling in the next hour. There’s fog forecast to roll in, and ATC is on that… uh, minimal staff protocol. If we can beat the fog and fit into a departure slot, we’re golden.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Shining says as he asks me to transport Flurry Heart in her baby chair. “Let’s get going.”

Being careful not to rock the car too much, we return to Great Circle and start packing the plane. Both cars are parked onboard and secured before we all climb aboard.

“Alright, I’m sure you know all the safety features, but I’ll just go ahead and brief you anyway: to fasten the seatbelt, insert the metal tip into the buckle, tighten with the strap. To unfasten, lift the flap and separate the two ends. Please keep your belts on even if the sign is off. There are 8 exits, two in front, four over wing, and two in the rear. Instructions on their operation are on the safety information card. If we have to evacuate into water, the life raft is located overhead, your seat cushion does function as a flotation device, and the infant life vests are in this compartment here.

“Place the vest over your shoulders, click into place, and tighten with the strap. Once outside the aircraft, pull down on the tabs to inflate the vest or blow into the tube at shoulder level. Vests are equipped with an LED that will illuminate upon contact with water. In case of a drop or loss in cabin pressure, oxygen masks will drop from above your head. Pull down on the mask to initiate the flow of oxygen, tighten with the straps on the side and breathe normally even though the bag will not inflate. Secure your own mask first before assisting others. If the cabin loses power, yellow and red strips on the floor will guide you to the nearest exit. Three lavs, one up front and two in the rear. Federal law forbids smoking, tampering with, disabling, or destroying a lavatory smoke detector, and requires compliance with lighted signs, posted placards and crewmember instructions. Questions, comments, concerns?”

“No.” They both nod, smiling in appreciation at my slightly rushed safety brief.

“Okay then. Cadance, you know how to get in touch with me if you need to. Just in case Flurry Heart wants to wander, she has the whole plane except the cockpit to explore. Should be about 4 1/2 hours en route. Please sit back, relax, and enjoy.”

Once I sit down in the cockpit, I check linemen clear and turn on the APU.

2 alight and stable. Control surfaces check, flaps 5.

“Anchorage clearance, Crystal Prep 1, IFR to Sacramento Mather.”

“Crystal Prep 1, cleared to Mather airport via as filed. Maintain 11,000, departure frequency 126.4, squawk 1517.”

“Cleared to Mather as filed, 11,000, 126.4, 1517 squawk, Crystal Prep 1.”

“Crystal Prep 1, readback correct. Ground .9.”

“Ted Stevens International Airport Information Golf, 2048Z, wind 150 at 5, visibility 2 1/2, Sky condition, overcast 500, broken 2,300, scattered 12,000. Temperature -1, dewpoint -8, altimeter 30.10. ILS runway 7L in use, landing and departing runway 7L. All aircraft read back hold short instructions. Advise on initial contact you have information Golf.”

“Anchorage ground, Crystal Prep 1, Golf, ready to taxi.”

“Crystal Prep 1, Anchorage ground. Runway 7L, taxi via E K H.”

“E K H, 7L, Crystal Prep 1.”

“Crystal Prep 1, forecasted RVR 1200 in 5 minutes. Can you get airborne by then?”

“We’ll do our best.”

“Roger.”

To burn off a little extra fuel weight, I taxi faster than I would normally do for the sake of beating the incoming fog, which I can see is almost pitch black.

“Gee, the weather up here really does have a mind of its own.”

“Attention all aircraft, hazardous weather information available via flight service stations.”

“Ground, Crystal Prep 1, any idea on how long before considering a ground stop?”

“Negative. You’re our only operation for the next 20 minutes. Cross runway 7R, cross runway 7L, hold short runway 33.”

“Roger that. Cross runways 7, short of 33.”

After I turn on all the lights, I cross both East-west runways before turning onto K. As soon as I round out, I get my “cross runway 33” clearance.

“Crystal Prep 1, cross runway 33, will you be ready upon reaching runway 7L?”

“Cross 33, Affirm.”

“Crystal Prep 1, roger. Contact tower on 118.3.”

“118.3, Crystal Prep 1.” “Anchorage tower, Crystal Prep 1 across 33 for 7L.”

“Crystal Prep 1, Anchorage tower,” the same controller calls. “Runway 7L, cleared for takeoff. Fly heading 100.”

“Cleared for takeoff 7L, heading 100, Crystal Prep 1.” “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve been cleared for takeoff, please be seated at this time.”

Thankful the tarmac is dry, I use the “gas through turn” trick and slingshot around H, setting takeoff thrust just as we enter the runway.

80 knots.

V1

Rotate.

V2

Positive rate, gear up.

Flaps up. Turn right heading 100.

“Crystal Prep 1, contact departure. Just beat the fog. Great flight.”

Prelude: Student Association Pitch

“Good morning Principal Cadance, distinguished faculty and staff, and Captain Scimitar. The student association of Crystal Prep Academy requests your collaborative effort and cooperation for this year’s Spring Dance. As most of you are aware, our Maritime theme last year was very successful. This year, we believe that we can exceed expectations of our fellow students as well as our fellow administrators by venturing to… Hawaii! Our fellow students have expressed a considerable interest in a long-distance spring dance venue, and the connection, local knowledge, and expertise of both Principal Cadance and Captain Scimitar are among the best we have available at our disposal.”

“As per our venue choice,” another student begins, “our tentative theme is tropical. We would very much appreciate being able to have an island-themed event in the islands. Following the previous tradition of Spring Dances past, dinner and a social hour would not be excluded, nor would we fail to acknowledge the dance itself. While we understand there may be some logistical bumps, Captain Scimitar is one of the most experienced pilots available with an advantageous knowledge and familiarity with this travel corridor. As such, we believe that with his help and your backing, we can make this formidable task a reality.”

“Mr. Scimitar,” a third student then asks me as part of their presentation, “may we present some questions pertaining to your knowledge of such a flight?”

“Please save those for the end.” A member of staff responds.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Miss Echelon, your cabinet has presented very excellently and I believe I speak for everyone when I say that we unanimously approve of this undertaking.” Cadance calls. “All in favor of this proposal say ‘aye.’”

“Aye.” All but one member of staff call with a raise of the hand.

“I hesitate to approve on the grounds of, as you mentioned, the logistical challenges. What kinds of challenges could we encounter and how may we solve them?”

“If I may,” I interject by standing up and raising my hand, “one such issue I have my own curiosities about is the availability of local salons and personal care businesses for those who want to use them particularly the day of the event. Now, I may answer that question by proposing we depart the mainland later in the morning but consequently return late in the night.”

“Mr. Scimitar,” the second presenter responds, “that does sound like a good idea, and I believe it is possible, to avoid any confusion, for those who wish to visit places such as salons, if they run the risk of not being able to schedule appointments, or even making them and getting them completed in a timely manner. If I’m reading you correctly, it is generally okay to get nails at least done the day before.”

“Thank you for your question, Mr. Bohr.” Echelon responds back. “It has been a point of contention for us, but such logistical challenges can easily be conquered by ensuring that fellow students who want to visit those places be forewarned. Immediately upon the approval of this proposal, we shall disseminate pertinent and necessary information related to making such appointments. Additionally, if any short-notice problems should occur, all information related to it shall be made available immediately.”

“Mr. Scimitar,” Mr. Bohr asks almost immediately after. “Principal Cadance has been vocal of her confidence in you. How can the rest of us trust you?”

“I have extensive experience operating in the Hawaii-West Coast corridor. It was my specialty. I have operated every possible combination of available routes in that corridor. I know the routes I fly backwards, forwards, inside and out. I realize that the opportunity to prove it may not exist for all staff until the day of the event, but I can proudly state that you can trust me as much as you would any other carrier. Principal Cadance is a woman of her word, and I hope that I can prove that when the day comes.”

“I personally am not a nervous flyer, so as such I trust this event will serve as a possible opportunity to become the school-approved means of aerial transportation.”

“It would be my honor to carry that endorsement. I hope that however I may be utilized for this event, regardless of where we go, I may prove myself worthy.”

“And I look forward to flying with you. Aye.”

“With that final vote of confidence, the proposal to have our Spring Dance in Hawaii is officially approved!”

Applause rings throughout the room as everyone goes around shaking hands.

As I leave the room amongst a crowd going to the cafeteria, Cadance invites me to enjoy the school’s lunch offerings on her ticket, since she has a guest pass.

Helping myself to the main line special and a couple of a la carte dishes along with a Squirt to drink. The two of us take a table in a far corner, away from most of the student body.

“Do you have A and B lunch slots?” I ask noticing a much smaller crowd than I would’ve expected.

“Yes. This is the A lunch time.”

“Okay. About how big is your student body?”

“100 or so scattered over the four classes.”

“Nice. You have a much more manageable size of student body. My own high school class itself was 104.”

“Wow. You had a big class.”

“That was about average.”

“Thank you for coming. I think you just being there helped ease a lot of nerves for the faculty who may have been skeptical.”

“I for one agree wholeheartedly.” Mr. Bohr says as he sits down next to Cadance.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Scimitar. How are you enjoying the finest of Crystal Prep’s cuisine?”

“I can’t complain.” I say chuckling. “I appreciate your involvement with the presentation. I’m genuinely excited to be able to contend for the hire list for all your aerial transportation needs.”

“As am I, though once we’ve completed at least one trip with you, it’ll definitely be easier.”

“Thank you for taking a chance with me. I’m honored to carry your trust.”

When the time comes to head back to the office, Cadance asks me to join her for one last order of business, and that’s to prepare a tentative invoice.

“Well, given that I’ve been in the process of hub expansion, I think I may be able to apply some discounts that should start to pay off the more regularly, I use that loosely, you hire me. For your liability’s sake as well as my own, the actual flight to Hawaii will be the make-or-break, but obviously since we’ll have to go venue hunting, I imagine I can at least prove myself to the SA cabinet.”

“Indeed.”

A: Location Scouting

KMHR SAC PYE SUPER MAFIC MANEY DADIE R576 DENNS ITO PHTO, wheels up at 8:30 local, flown by N8600F.

“Mather ground, Shadowbolt 5, IFR to Hilo.”

“Shadowbolt 5, cleared to Hilo via SAC, V6, OAK, RAINS, then as filed. Maintain 12,000, departure frequency 127.4, squawk 2015.”

“Cleared to Hilo via Sacramento, Victor 6, Oakland, RAINS, then as filed, 12,000 on departure, NorCal departure 127.4, squawk 2015, Shadowbolt 5.”

“Shadowbolt 5, readback correct. Advise when ready to taxi. The ATIS is Oscar.”

“Shadowbolt 5.”

Passengers briefed.

2 alight and stable. Surfaces check. Set flaps 10.

“Sacramento Mather airport information Oscar, 1615Z, wind 170 at 4, visibility 10, sky clear below 12,000. Temperature 7, dewpoint -1, altimeter 29.94. ILS runway 22L and visual runway 22R in use. Landing and departing runway 22L and runway 22R. All VFR aircraft say direction of flight. All aircraft read back all runway hold short instructions. Advise on initial contact you have information Oscar.”

“Ground, Shadowbolt 5, Oscar, ready to taxi.”

“Shadowbolt 5, ground, runway 22L, taxi via A A1.”

“A A1, runway 22L, Shadowbolt 5.”

Spool up to taxi power, join A, all the way to the end.

“Mather tower, Shadowbolt 5, short of 22R ready for departure.”

“Shadowbolt 5, Mather tower. Runway 22R, cleared for takeoff. Turn right heading 235.”

“Cleared for takeoff 22R, right heading 235, Shadowbolt 5.”

80 knots.

V1

Rotate.

V2

Positive rate, gear up.

Flaps up.

“Shadowbolt 5, contact departure. Great flight.”

“Over to departure, Shadowbolt 5.” “NorCal departure, Shadowbolt 5 off Mather, 2,200 climbing 12,000, heading 235.”

“Shadowbolt 5, NorCal departure, good morning, proceed direct Sacramento, climb and maintain 12,000.”

“Direct Sacramento, 12,000, Shadowbolt 5.”

“Hilo tower, Shadowbolt 5 at BISEN, visual 26.”

“Shadowbolt 5, Hilo tower. Winds 210 at 3, runway 26, cleared to land. If able, please minimize use of reverse thrust.”

“Cleared to land 26, no reverse thrust, Shadowbolt 5.”

Set flaps 5.

Below 200 knots. Set flaps 10.

Below 190. Lower landing gear, 15 flaps.

3 green down and locked. 2,500’. Flaps 25.

Turn final. Flaps 30. 1,000’.

Landing gear, 3 green down and locked.
Flaps, set to 30.
Spoilers, armed.
Auto brakes, set to 2.

100.

50.

40.

30.

20.

10.

Touchdown! Spoilers up, brakes on. None in reverse.

“Shadowbolt 5, left C, contact ground .9.”

“C, contact ground, Shadowbolt 5.” “On behalf of your Southern California based flight crew, welcome to Hilo. Currently it’s… 10:21 in the morning. Weather 76°, gentle offshore flow and skies clear. For your continued comfort and safety, please wait until we’ve come to a complete stop and the seatbelt sign has been turned off. At that time, please use caution when opening overhead bins. Items may have shifted and could fall, injuring you or someone else around you. As this is the termination of our flight, please do make sure you have all personal belongings with you. Thanks again, welcome to Hilo.”

Left on taxiway C, contact ground. “Hilo ground, Shadowbolt 5, taxi to parking.”

“Shadowbolt 5, Hilo ground, taxi to parking via C.”

“C to parking, Shadowbolt 5.”

Because there are a handful of students aboard, the two chaperones are Cadance and the head sponsor of the student association, Radiant Hope, one of the school nurses. I don’t have to do any driving, and since their visit here is short, we can get out of Hawaii before the return becomes a red eye. Not that I’d have a problem with that.

In any case, once they claim rental cars, I rent a car of my own and head into Hilo. Since I’m on the clock until we return to Sacramento, I cannot partake in any drinks, but instead I order a round of apps enjoyed with a glass of ginger beer.

After I knock back a couple more glasses to rid my mouth of the foods i8 (if only I had brought a BMW), I drive down to Leilani Estates. Now that most of the fallout from Kilauea has subsided, I can check the place out. Not a whole lot to see if I’m honest, but I wonder if there are any homes for sale.

Two hours later, we all return to the plane and head for the next spot, Kahului.

VFR in a 737, shooting the gap between Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea, thence up the channel to Maui. Can’t beat it. The best part? We’re landing on runway 20, which is opposite the norm. This means flying over the town of Hana, which I point out, along with the titular highway, and we’re in pretty smoothly.

Even though Rosalina isn’t here, I park at Sunshine since I am an owner by proxy.

Rinse and repeat with rental cars, except this time I head for my house in Wailuku. Not expecting more than a couple hours here, I enjoy a few minutes on my lanai, with a view of the same island, but mostly just west Maui. Of course, laying back like this would afford at least a stroll in the backyard, since this house is on a large acreage. Enjoying a rare bit of peace in a tropical spring marred by spotty rain, I’m glad to at least be warm, since both Victorville and March are pretty windy right now.

This visit lasts longer than Hilo’s, so once we meet back at the airport, we spend a little extra time here to brief me on the situation.

“Okay, Captain Scimitar,” Echelon begins. “It looks like our most likely candidate will be here on Maui. I know we still have to look at Oahu and Kauai venues, but this one looks like the best option.”

“Okay. Out of curiosity, what’s working against Hilo?”

“Space and catering. We’d have to do our own catering, which isn’t too much of a problem, but at least here, their catering is on-site, which just makes life easier.”

“I see. Well, shall we move on to Oahu?”

“Honolulu Tower, Shadowbolt 5, Juliet, visual 4R.”

“Shadowbolt 5, Honolulu tower, say parking.”

“Air Service, Shadowbolt 5.”

“Roger, runway 4R, cleared to land. Information Kilo now current. Winds 060 at 9, altimeter 30.12.”

“Copy K, cleared to land 4R, Shadowbolt 5.”

50.

40.

30.

20.

10.

Touchdown. Spoilers up, brakes on, 2 in reverse.

45 knots. Disengage reverse thrust.

“Shadowbolt 5, continue to the end, right C, taxi Air Service via C, ground is 121.9.”

“Right C, Air Service via C, ground 21.9, Shadowbolt 5.”

Parked, fueling in progress of only a couple hundred gallons, half each into the wings. Gotta keep the center tank as light as possible.

This time, despite my massive chunks of real estate, I decide to join them in a rental of my own, so I rent an exotic. The car I get? A Jeep Gladiator. I have a few of these, and suffice it to say, the rental is cheaper than any of the ones I own, but enough about me flaunting. I honestly hate it, but sometimes, it does feel good to flex.

In a familiar car, I join the streets of Honolulu, feeling an ill-defined yet nauseating sense of vacancy in the city’s highways (yes, Honolulu was at one point the nation’s worst traffic, beating out Chicago, Seattle, Boston (the current number one), New York, and Los Angeles.)

No matter. Following behind the others, we reach our venue in Ko Olina, right down the road from Aulani. One of my ex-wives works for Disney, and we’re fortunately still on good terms, so if I really wanted to, I could contact her, but they have it handled.

Thoroughly impressed with the venue but again hung up on catering, the invoice is staggering. Unfortunately, on account of the lack of catering rather than the price, CPA declines, since I did promise some price-matching as my little promo for my services. Nevertheless, we carve out about an hour of free time, so we head for one of my many properties on this island so they can relax mentally and I can look at weather both on the route to Kauai and along the R-routes to see if there are any issues to look out for weather-wise.

Once my flight plan is submitted, taking advantage of another chance to go VFR in a 737, we head for Inouye, not in a terrible rush, because as I’m finding out, for reasons unknown to me, traffic at the busiest airport in the state is way down.

Ho hum. As we load, I get rolling quickly to try and be one of the last departures before either of the East-West runways stop use because of the winds favoring the others.

“Honolulu clearance, Shadowbolt 5, Air Service, Punchbowl departure to Līhu‘e.”

“Shadowbolt 5, understand VFR departure, planned route KEOLA, Victor 16, NAPUA.”

“Affirm, Shadowbolt 5.”

“Shadowbolt 5, disregard punchbowl, expect radar vectors through the Class Bravo. Say your cruising altitude.”

“16,000, Shadowbolt 5.”

“Shadowbolt 5, roger. Standby.”

“Shadowbolt 5, we’ll go ahead and start our engines. Will advise when ready.”

“Shadowbolt 5, Roger.”

Initiate start procedure.

2 alight and stable.

“Clearance, Shadowbolt 5.”

“Shadowbolt 5, cleared to Lihue airport via radar vectors to KEOLA, expect own nav from KEOLA. Expect an immediate right turn heading 255, climb and maintain 8,000. HCF departure frequency 118.3, squawk 0321.”

“Cleared to Līhu‘e via radar vectors to KEOLA, thence own nav. Immediate right turn heading 255, climb and maintain 8,000. Departure 118.3, squawk 0321, Shadowbolt 5.”

“Shadowbolt 5, readback correct, the ATIS is Alpha, Ground is .9.”

“Shadowbolt 5.”

“Daniel K. Inouye international airport information Alpha. 0155Z. Wind 050 at 6, visibility 10, sky clear below 12,000. Temperature 23, dewpoint 20, altimeter 29.94. Visual runway 4L, ILS runway 4R, ILS runway 8L, and visual runway 8R in use. Landing and departing runway 4L, runway 4R, runway 8L, and runway 8R. Notices to airmen: various cranes flagged and lighted in various quadrants. Advisory: all aircraft read back runway hold short instructions. All VFR aircraft contact clearance delivery prior to taxi. Advise on initial contact you have information Alpha.”

“Honolulu ground, Shadowbolt 5, Air Service, Alpha, taxi departure to Līhu‘e.”

“Shadowbolt 5, Honolulu ground. With the wind 060 at 8, it’s your lucky day. Which runway would you like?”

“We’ll take 8R, Shadowbolt 5.”

“Shadowbolt 5, roger. Runway 8R, taxi via C RT RA, hold short RB.”

“C RT RA, short of RB, runway 8R, Shadowbolt 5.”

“United 218, monitor tower 123.9.”

“Over to tower, United 218.”

“Shadowbolt 5, ground.”

“Shadowbolt 5.”

“Can you accept runway 4R instead?”

“No problem.”

“Shadowbolt 5, roger. Runway 4R, taxi via C.”

“C to 4R, Shadowbolt 5.”

“Hawaiian 363, monitor tower 118.1.”

“18.1, Hawaiian 363.”

Once I stop at the hold short line, I run the checklist again and double check the flight computer, even though I plan on pseudo-hand flying the whole thing.

“Honolulu tower, Shadowbolt 5 short of 4R, ready for departure.”

“Shadowbolt 5, Honolulu tower, runway 4R, line up and wait, traffic is a 717 departing runway 4L, same destination.”

“Line up and wait 4R, Shadowbolt 5.”

*text – now – Twilight Sparkle*

“Hey, are you with Cadance right now?”

“Yeah. What’s up?”

“Is she helping pick out a venue for her school’s spring dance?”

“Yeah. She chartered me.”

“Are you going to be taking them to Hawaii?”

“Presumably, if they choose here.”

“Hawaiian 363, contact HCF departure, good flight.”

“Over to departure, Hawaiian 363.”

“Shadowbolt 5, turn right heading 255, runway 4R, cleared for takeoff.”

“Cleared for takeoff 4R, immediate heading 255, Shadowbolt 5.”

80 knots.

V1

Rotate.

V2

Positive rate, gear up.

Autopilot engage, immediate right turn heading 255, climb and maintain 8,000. Flaps stay down to help tighten the turn.

“Shadowbolt 5, caution wake turbulence departed United 777, contact HCF departure.”

“Over to departure, Shadowbolt 5.” “Honolulu departure, Shadowbolt 5 off Inouye, turning heading 255.”

“Shadowbolt 5, Honolulu departure. Altitude restriction removed, traffic a mad dog 4 o’clock, 3 miles, climbing to 14,000. Expect direct KEOLA in about 2 to 3 minutes.”

“In sight, climbing 16,000, Shadowbolt 5.”

“Shadowbolt 5, roger.”

Roll out on 255, flaps up.

A quick climb up to 16,000, I don’t even bother to turn the seatbelt sign off because as soon as we get to cruising, we spend about 5 minutes level thanks to HCF’s advisories for the Hawaiian traffic ahead of us.

“Lihue airport information Lima, 0235Z, wind 200 at 10, visibility 10. Sky clear below 12,000. Temperature 21, dewpoint 16, altimeter 29.99. Visual runway 21 in use. Landing and departing runway 21. All VFR aircraft contact clearance delivery prior to taxi. Advisory: all aircraft read back all runway hold short instructions. Advise on initial contact you have information Lima.”

“Līhu’e tower, Shadowbolt 5, Lima, inbound to land.”

“Shadowbolt 5, Lihue tower. Traffic on the visual for 21 a Hawaiian Airlines 717. Runway 21, number 2, proceed inbound.”

“Number 2 for runway 21, Hawaiian traffic in sight, Shadowbolt 5.”

“Shadowbolt 5, say parking.”

“Sunshine.”

“Roger.”

Below 210, Flaps 5.

Flaps 10.

Below 200. Flaps 15.

Landing assured, lower landing gear. “Hawaiian 363, right K, straight ahead to gate 2, remain this frequency.”

3 green, down and locked. “K to gate 2, Hawaiian 363.”

“Shadowbolt 5, runway 21, cleared to land.” Flaps 25.

“Cleared to land, Shadowbolt 5.” Turn final. Flaps 30. 1000.

50.

30.

10.

Touchdown! Spoilers up, brakes on, 2 in reverse.

“Shadowbolt 5, right M, M A B to Sunshine, monitor ground 121.9.”

“Right M, M A B to Sunshine, monitor ground, Shadowbolt 5.”

Parked, shut down. Fueling in progress. Rosalina is here, but unavailable at present. She’s doing a check flight.

Thanks to running a little behind in Honolulu, they are a few minutes late to their viewing appointment for the venue in Princeville. Ironically, Rosalina’s check flight as I’ve just discovered is over that area, so lucky them. I in prep for the long return journey, do an extra-vigilant preflight, especially since the landing was pretty firm. To clarify, a necessary firm, because of the short runway.

I file for departure in 2.5 hours, but we’ll probably be a little bit later than that depending on what they want to do for lunch and dinner. Because our projected arrival in Sacramento is almost midnight, we’ll leave here at close to 14:30, so lunch (and definitely dinner) will have to be pre-purchased, as I don’t have any substantial foodstuffs aboard. The snacks I do have are boring, so I do recommend buying food for the long journey home.

Just to keep me from getting too fatigued, I step into the spare office and take a power nap, expecting at least a couple hours to gain.

When I get woken up, it’s by a text from Cadance.

“Hey Max, we’re ready when you are.”

“Are you on your way back to the airport?”

“We have a little bit of time, do you want to get something to eat?”

“Sure. I don’t have a car though, so you’ll have to pick me up.”

“That’s fine. We’re about 10 minutes away.”

“I’ll be ready.”

5 minutes later, I’m outside waiting for the others. Cadance’s car has its passenger seat open so I climb in.

“Okay, what do you recommend?”

“Are there any dietary concerns or considerations?” I ask to the rest of the car.

“Peanut allergy!” One calls from the back.

“And there are two others that are gluten free and lactose intolerant in the other car.”

“Is anyone uncomfortable with seafood?”

“Certain types. I’m pretty chill about it though.”

“Okay. I’ll ask the other car.” I say as I climb out.

“Hello,” I greet Radiant Hope, “are there any dietary allergies or concerns, and is anyone not okay with seafood?”

“One is gluten free, and the other lactose intolerant. No one objects to seafood, as long as there’s a good selection of fish.”

“Okay. I’m going to show you one of my wife’s and my favorite places to eat.”

When we arrive at the restaurant, I finally respond to Twilight.

“Do you think you can squeeze all of us in on your manifest?”

“Yeah. Have you talked to Cadance about it?”

“Not yet. This is a weird request, but I imagine you should be okay with it. The girls and I haven’t really done anything that’s just us, discounting our gathering in Chicago that one holiday. I’ve been wanting to organize a girl’s break and now that all our schedules allow for it at the same time, can we join you?”

“Yeah. That’s fine.”

“Also, by request of Rainbow Dash, can you get us flight attendant certified?”

“What’s the meaning of this?”

“Just another one of her brilliant ideas.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’ll tell you when we all meet. When’s the dance?”

“First weekend in March.”

“We’ll see you that week then.”

B: Crew Training

“Okay,” Rarity begins, “we haven’t done an all-girls vacation in a long time, and thanks to Max, we can do that again. Thanks to Twilight, we’ll join Crystal Prep to Maui! And because I had a bunch of extra fabric laying around, I made stewardess dresses!”

She then pulls off a garment bag revealing a very bold and very red uniform. She then interjects with, “With the exception of Rainbow Dash, for obvious reasons,” and presents a standard white shirt, double breasted black jacket, and matching pants.

“So we’re gonna do a full crew situation then?” I ask after examining Dash’s duds.

“I wouldn’t be caught dead in one of those!” She says pointing to the other uniform. “No offense.”

“Eh, none taken.” Sunset responds tastefully eyeing the outfit. “I hope you can tailor these for us.”

“Of course! I already know how to adjust to my size based on Fluttershy’s back from when she used to model for me regularly, so I’ll just update your measurements now!”

Fluttershy blushes at the first part of the sentence before I butt in with feigned excitement, “I get to share a cockpit with a Blue Angel.”

“Aw, don’t worry Max,” Rainbow reassures throwing an arm over my shoulder in spite of me being a foot taller than her, “I won’t be too hard on you.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about. If you want to vacation to Hawaii, you do understand that you are obligated to accompany me back to the mainland, right?”

“Of course darling!” Rarity chimes in. “Consider this a form of… partial payment.”

“I’ve done a few charters with no flight attendants, so don’t worry about making the conscious effort to replicate an airline. If I’m honest, I don’t want to emulate, otherwise I’ll just be another cookie cutter airline service.”

“You have us, and it’s you, Max.” Pinkie responds. “It’s far from some ‘cookie cutter airline service.’”

“That kind of goes without saying, especially when I play my wild card. Dash, get acquainted with the cockpit from the right seat, just in case I need to call on you for anything. For the rest of you, let me show you around the cabin.”

First things first, how to operate the exits. Using the safety card furnished in the seats, and a ship that has been in maintenance for a little while now, which won’t be used for the trip but otherwise identical to the one on the task, I demonstrate to each of the girls how to open and close the main cabin doors and how to arm and disarm the emergency slide. (I can’t explain that here for security reasons.)

When it comes to the overwing exits, it’s a couple extra steps to avoid accidental deployment by a passenger. Since the airplane we’re practicing on is in maintenance and identical to the one being used, I can give a demonstration on these doors.

A few practice runs on the main doors and the overwing exits is good for me. They’re all pretty fast learners, so I don’t doubt that they’ll make great stewardesses for the sake of a passenger manifest.

Next, location of life jackets. Almost the entire journey will be over water, so I would be mad not to brief on the location of life vests. Passenger life vests are under each seat, or armrest for first class, and the cushion does function as a flotation device. The first class cabin has one and the main cabin has two life rafts, all located in the ceiling, only to be accessed in event of a water ditching.

Additional survival gear are located in packed kits in both galleys and in staggered points overhead. Included in the overhead bins are the crew oxygen systems, to which they get acquainted with how to scramble to get them as fast as possible in case the cabin depressurizes.

After I give them an idea of what to look for when it comes to cabin anomalies not of a passenger’s doing, I give them the galley tour. Two will serve the first class passengers, stationed in the front jump seats. Stationed in the rear jump seats, two will serve snacks in the main cabin, and the remaining two will serve drinks in the main cabin.

Now, I may suffer from personal biases, being so well-acquainted with my airplanes and all, but their job as stewardesses really isn’t that hard at all. Of the seven of them, Dash has it the hardest, and at the most, I’ll just give her all the radios, just like I do with Rosalina. Obviously, I can’t give her too much freedom with operating the airplane, but she definitely is the most qualified of anyone else both here and on the manifest to take over control if I become incapacitated (kind of goes without saying, I know.)

By the time we run through a simulated cabin evacuation a handful of times, including extra practice on a simulated ditching evac, the girls, thoroughly exhausted and maybe even sick of a day of aviation, call it a night.

It’s worth noting that the ditching evacuation limits the number of available exits, specifically the rearmost, effectively limiting escape to the overwing and the front exits. For certification purposes, aircraft seating is limited for this reason, as most agencies require a total escape time of less than 90 seconds with only half the available exits usable. Of course, on an aircraft of any size, proportionately speaking, even the largest of passenger aircraft with the tightest of seating arrangements, is still limited to 853, on the Airbus A380. That in of itself assumes a layout of 11 seats across the aisle: 3 flanking each window and 5 in the midsection. Yes, it is a lot of people for one airplane, but no airline so far has fitted their cabin as such.

The reason I bring this up is to segue into two important points. One, getting 853 passengers out of an airplane in an emergency with only 8 out of 16 exits usable in less than 90 seconds seems like an insurmountable task. And two, understanding cabin layout.

On the aircraft I’ve assigned to this trip, the cabin layout is rather low-density, even for a 2-class configuration. The exit limit is 220, which would normally require an additional exit on each side, bringing the total number of exits to 10. However, the aircraft only has 178 passenger seats, which falls under the requirement for those 9th and 10th exits, which is 190. Because of this, those exits are present on the airframe, but they’ve been plugged and are thus unusable. In fact, if you were to sit in the row of those exits, you would have a little extra legroom than other rows in the main cabin.

In a necessary yet roundabout way, if an A380 can evacuate 853 passengers in less than 90 seconds with only 8 of 16 exits usable, than surely a Boeing 737-900ER can evacuate 178 with only the two rear exits unusable.

After a few more days of additional “recurrent” training time to hone the muscle memory and impulse and such, I declare them good to go with only a day until the hire.

The day before we leave, I throw the girls my wild card. I hand each of them a sheet with cues and lines for each of the girls.

“Wowee!!” Pinkie exclaims seeing the lyrics.

“You, uh, really want to set the passenger brief to music??” Dash asks.

“Vinyl Scratch sent me the track, and I was inspired.” I say in obvious parody. “Sorry Rarity. Want to give it a whack? I had a manic streak at the time and thought it would be a good idea.”

Everyone is visibly and in some cases audibly nervous. I reassure them with a,

“Please don’t feel pressured to do it just because I’m waiving a portion of your airfare. I firmly believe you can do this if your little reunion performance at Annabelle’s wedding reception is anything to go off of.”

“He’s… not, wrong.” Sunset says as she looks over her lines. “I’m up for the challenge.”

“I am!” Pinkie seconds.

“Oh, what the hey.” AJ shrugs.

“Okay.” Fluttershy meekly agrees as she reviews her lines.

“Eh, why not?” Twilight smiles meekly.

“Come on, let’s go for it!” Dash calls as I queue and cue the track.

With their suitcases “checked in,” clad in their very Virginal red uniforms, and stationed in their jump seats, by default if you could call it that, the virtually unanimous crew chief, or more accurately, head stewardess, is Sunset. She then is in charge of making sure the passengers are okay and the liaison between the cabin and the pilots.

Joining Sunset in the forward cabin is Twilight. In charge of the rear cabin then is Applejack. After I review their positions, I ask for a dress rehearsal just so I can find out who’s where and make adjustment depending on who has a line for a specific part of the passenger brief.

Sunset by default is at the front closest to the PA, since she has most of the lines. Applejack needs to be closest to the overwing exits for her lines, and Fluttershy chooses to remain at the back so she has the least number of eyes on her. Pinkie and Rarity then choose who wants to stand between the premium economy and main cabin (in front of Applejack) or between Applejack and Fluttershy.

After that’s all taken care of, we run the track through a few times to make sure everyone has their lines covered and they can perform with the actual tools of demonstration.

Trying my best not to celebrate in an unsportsmanlike manner, I make sure all doors are armed, cross-checked, all flight attendants are seated and belted up at this time.

“Joshua departure, Boeing N493AS, IFR to Sacramento Mather.”

“Boeing 493AS, cleared to Sacramento Mather airport via as filed, except expect cruising altitude of FL330. On departure, fly direct Palmdale, climb and maintain 11,000. Departure this frequency, squawk 0215.”

“Cleared to Mather as filed. Direct Palmdale on departure, climb and maintain 12,000, expect FL330. Departure 124.55, squawk 0215, 493AS.”

“Boeing 3AS, readback correct. Void in 5 minutes, talk to you on the go.”

“Victorville airport information Delta, 1605Z, wind 330 at 3, visibility 10, sky clear below 12,000. Temperature 17, dewpoint 4, altimeter 29.99. All runways restricted access. Prior permission required. Advise on initial contact you have information Delta.”

Initiate engine start procedure.

2 alight and stable.

Flaps 5. Control surfaces check. Taxi to runway 35.

Instrument check.
Primary flight display (PFD.)
Airspeed indicator, zero.
Attitude indicator, level and upright within 5 minutes of engine start.
Altimeter, within 75 feet of field elevation at 29.99.
Turn coordinator, wing in & trapezoid out.
Multi-function display (MFD.)
Known/indicated headings against the magnetic compass. No gyroscopic precession.
Vertical speed indicator (VSI), zero point noted.

Line up on runway 35.

“Hands together, Rainbow.” I say as I place my hand on the throttles.

She puts her hand on top of mine so we can push the throttles together.

Set takeoff thrust.

80 knots.

V1

Rotate.

V2

Positive rate, gear up.

Flaps up.

“Joshua departure, Boeing 493AS off Victorville, 3,100 climbing 12,000.”

“Boeing 493AS, Joshua, nice to see you. Proceed direct Palmdale, climb and maintain 16,000. Passing 8,000, contact Los Angeles center, 126.35.”

“Climb 16,000, LA 26.35 at 8, 493AS.”

50.

40.

30.

20.

10.

Touchdown. Spoilers up, brakes on, 2 in reverse.

60 knots, disengage reverse thrust.

“N493AS, right at F or G, taxi Superior via A, monitor ground .85.”

“F exit, A to Superior,” Dash grabs, “monitor ground, 3AS.”

Parked. Shut down. Disarm left main.

Air stairs secure. Assist lineman with ground power.

Plugged in, now we wait for the arrival of the students.

Each girl stands in a random row staggered so they can welcome each student onboard.

With a copy of the manifest, I head into the terminal and wait for the first signs of Crystal Prep Academy.

Our signs come when a handful of coaches roll into the parking lot. Parking right in front of the doors, I quickly return to the ramp and take care of programming the flight computer, pressurization system, and initial autopilot functions. Nothing out of the ordinary to report, I make sure Dash doesn’t touch anything as I head back into the terminal, where Cadance, Radiant Hope, Mr. Bohr, Upper Echelon - the student body president, and who I assume is her date next to her, I don a bright and excited smile as I greet each of them with handshakes.

“Good morning all.” I say as the crowd starts to file in. “Let’s make space for everyone so I can explain the boarding process. Per my manifest, there are 90 students, and 18 faculty and staff. Unfortunately, we only have 16 first class seats available. 2 members will have to settle for premium economy. As for the students, there are 90 of you and 138 seats available in the main cabin. This means that no one, and I mean no one, will have to sit in a middle seat.

Some students perk up at that.

“I would like to clarify that there will be one row that should be entirely unoccupied, and that is the very last row. At this time, we will begin our boarding process starting with parties traveling with small children or those who may require extra time to board the airplane.”

No takers. Cadance unfortunately is alone for tonight.

“At this time, all passengers seated in first class can come forward and board at this time.”

The two members who’ll sit in premium economy let both Cadance and I know so we can mark them as such. I then tell them, “rows 7-9, either side.”

After the last member reaches the stairs, I take a deep breath and prepare to cross off names before I call out,

“At this time, we’d like to welcome aboard all those traveling with us to Maui with Crystal Prep Academy.”

Cadance and I mark our manifests in accordance with the name we’re given. The process goes smoothly until the last person in line checks in. As she makes her way out to the plane, we’re short two.

Nothing to worry about though, as both emerge from the bathrooms and check in apologizing for making us late.

“No problem,” I respond, “we’re doing just fine.”

After I close the tab and pay the fees and charges due for my visit now, I give them the card number and an email for future use when we return tonight.

With that, Cadance and I follow the last two students onboard and get seated. Dash is on her phone looking at, of all things, the airport diagram for HNL.

“You know we’re going to Maui, right?”

“Yeah, but the Angels are due for a maritime practice exercise with other Navies in Hawaii, so I want to get familiar with the area.”

“Fair enough.” I say as I run final checks on the cabin.

A few minutes after I declare the pre-start checklists complete, Dash and I head for the cabin. This is our little moment of truth.

Sunset and I close and arm the cabin door, waving bye and thanks to the lineman who pulls the air stairs back.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen, at this time, we are now ready for departure. Welcome aboard our flight today with service to Maui. My name is Sunset Shimmer, alongside Twilight Sparkle in the first class cabin. Assisting the main cabin is Rarity, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, and Fluttershy. Our captain is Split Scimitar, assisted by Rainbow Dash. We’re all here to make sure your journey is safe and comfortable, so for the next couple of minutes, please direct your attention to the cabin crew as we outline and explain the safety features and procedures of this Boeing 737-900[ER] aircraft.”

A: I’m On a Jet

“Hey! Hey!”

“Check our new ride.
The boarding door’s closed, now we’re feeling real fly.
Me and my crew is pumped up!”

“That’s right!”

“Gonna hit up Maui ‘fore the end of the night.”

“Suit up! It’s a black tie event!
It’s Crystal Prep’s Spring Dance for this charter request.
We showin’ up the yacht with extravagance.”

“Captain Max on deck,
for the safety announce-ment.”

“It’s high time for departure,
‘fore a storm system gets larger.
Let’s get down to Kahului without further delay.
We’ve got 5.5 to 6 hours up in the air.
It’s windy and it’s raining, though.”

“Oh, how unfair!”

“Hey, hey, hey. Seatbelts on.
Latch, buckle and tighten it strong. If the,
sign is off, please, keep ‘em on,
in case the air gets rough.

Eight, eight, there’re 8 exit doors.
2 front, 2 rear, and overwing: 4. Please,
find the closest, even though it,
may not be in front.”

“Oh no!”

“It’s unlikely and it’s daft,
but, in the case that we become a raft,
place the vest o’er shoulders and tighten the strap.
Open up the exit door, pull down on the tabs.”

“Hey!”

“If the pressures change,
you should know that we will need to oxygenate.
Pull down on the mask, baggie won’t inflate.
Place over your nose and mouth, and respirate!”

“If you need to use the bathroom,
there are 3 onboard for all ya.
1 upfront, 2 behind.”

“Can I smoke?”

“You’re denied!”

“There’s no smoking allowed.
Tampering’s disallowed.
If you’re caught in it, you’re in for it!
Gone With The Wind!”

“Bye!”

“Please do review the safety card.
The instructions aren’t that hard. How to,
operate the, exit doors, the life rafts and the slides.

And if the cabin goes dark,
yellow strips will light up the floor. To,
Show the way, to, safely e-
-vacuate the aircraft.

The law states, (federal law dictates),
that you must,
obey all my (compliance with) commands.
And all the, (signs up above), posted placards (and below).
And all the lighted signs (and whatever he says).”

“Okay, I think that is all.
Questions, comments, concerns at all? Please,
let me know, my, name is Max, well, it’s Split Scimitar!”

“Hey, hey, we’ll be on our way,
heading down to Maui today, so,
please sit back and, relax-ate,
‘cause CP’s jetting off!”

Author's Note

As the video highlights whose line it is, the only places where Max has lines are,

“It’s high time for departure…” (Instead of Pinkie Pie)
“Can I smoke?” (Instead of Pinkie Pie)
All the text in parentheses. (Instead of Spike.)
“Okay, I think that is all…” (Instead of the entire cast.)

C: Tropical Dance Magic

“Mather clearance,” I begin excitedly, “Shadowbolt 2, IFR to Kahului/Maui.”

“Shadowbolt 2, cleared to Kahului airport via Sacramento, V150, Sausalito, then as filed. Maintain 12,000 on departure. NorCal departure frequency 127.4, squawk 1715.

“Cleared to Kahului via Sacramento, Victor One-Five-Zero, Sausalito, then as filed. 12,000 on departure, NorCal departure on 127.4, squawk 1715, Shadowbolt 2.”

“Shadowbolt 2, readback correct. Runway 22L, taxi via A A1.”

“A A1, runway 22L, Shadowbolt 2.”

Initiate engine start procedure.

Engine 1 start valve open...

10% N2

15%

18%

20% N2, fuel control on.

Alight!

Start valve off.

Idle speed dropping.

N1, N2 values good. EGT’s normal, if a bit high.

Engine 1 generator on.

Engine 2 start valve open...

10% N2

15%

18%

20%, fuel control on.

Alight!

Start valve off.

Idle speed dropping.

N1, N2 values good. EGT’s normal, if a bit high.

Engine 2 generator on.

2 alight and stable. Ground power disconnect, connection panel closed and secure. APU on for now just to avoid a power drain.

Before we taxi, I reprogram the flight computer with our new route.

Planned:
KMHR SAC V6 OAK SUPER BEBOP R464 BITTA.LNDHY1 PHOG

Actual:
KMHR SAC V150 SAU BEBOP R464 BITTA.LNDHY1 PHOG

Verified and armed, I turn off the APU and do the control surface check.

Rudder left, rudder right. Hydraulic pressures normal.

Back pressure, forward pressure. Elevator hydraulic pressures normal.

Right aileron, left aileron. Aileron and spoiler deflections and hydraulic pressures normal.

Set flaps 10 for takeoff. We’re a light load and we have a long enough runway, but I do want to climb so we can be as high as possible when we cross Sausalito.

Taxi instructions, join A all the way to the northeast end, which becomes A1. Follow it all the way to the hold short line for runway 22L.

“Instrument check.
Primary flight display (PFD.)
Airspeed indicator, zero.
Attitude indicator, level and upright within 5 minutes of engine start.
Altimeter, within 75 feet of field elevation at 29.99.
Turn coordinator, wing in & trapezoid out.
Multi-function display (MFD.)
Known/indicated headings against the magnetic compass. No gyroscopic precession.
Vertical speed indicator (VSI), zero point noted.

“Taxi checklist.” I say handing the document to her so we can review it.

“Flaps?”

“Set to 10.”

“Trim?”

“Set for takeoff.”

“Departure brief.”

“In case of an engine fire, failure, loss of power, forward visibility, or loss of directional control. If the problem occurs before V1, power idle, full reverse thrust, rejected takeoff braking straight ahead. If the problem occurs at or above V1, treat it as an airborne emergency. At our current weight, we have plenty of runway for any takeoff-related emergency, well within our accelerate-stop and our accelerate-go distance. We do have a positive rate guaranteed through enough of an altitude to get us back to the airport. We’re slightly above max landing weight now, but we should be close to it if we have to return. In that case, I’ll fly, you talk. Initial altitude of 12,000, expect runway heading. Departure brief complete. Questions, comments, concerns?”

“All Good here!”

“Taxi checklist complete.”

“I took the liberty of contacting flight service during boarding. You mentioned storm system in your lyrics and today it couldn’t be more true. There are a few systems, one in particular, that could make for a shaky descent. The forecast for Kahului also predicts some strong trade winds. As for NOTAMs, none in the Kahului aerodrome, none for Honolulu Center, and none for Oakland Center. Go ahead and begin the taxi, I’ll get the ATIS.”

“Thank you.”

Throttles gently forward, no more than 25 knots taxi speed (normally 30 knots, but Mather is a smaller field.)

“Mather Airport Information Papa, 1820Z, wind 190 at 5, visibility 10, scattered clouds at 10,000. Temperature 20, dewpoint 1. Altimeter 29.95. ILS runway 22L and Visual runway 22R in use. Landing and departing runway 22L and runway 22R. Notices to airmen: runway 22L ILS unserviceable. Runway 22L CAT II approach not authorized. Advisory: all aircraft read back hold short instructions. Advise on initial contact you have information Papa.”

“Ground, Shadowbolt 2 has P.”

“Shadowbolt 2, roger. Passing B, monitor tower, 120.65.”

“120.65 after B, Shadowbolt 2.”

“Thank you Rainbow Dash. I love doing all the flying on my own, but there is something about having a second pilot to help you.”

“Of course! You wouldn’t bring a Blue Angel with you just to have them serve passengers right?”

“I wouldn’t.”

As we pass B, Dash flips the frequencies and tunes departure in the standby.

“Shadowbolt 2, Mather tower.”

“Shadowbolt 2.” Dash calls back.

“Shadowbolt 2, runway 22L, line up and wait, pending IFR release.”

“Line up and wait 22L, Shadowbolt 2.”

“Before takeoff/runway items.
Trims, set for takeoff.
Flaps, set to 10.
Brakes, set to RTO (Rejected Takeoff.)
Spoilers, armed.
Landing, strobe, wing/pulse lights, on.
Approach end, final, and runway clear.
Before takeoff checklist complete.”

“Line up and wait. Arm altitude and heading.”

“Airspeed 200 knots, autothrottle armed.”

“Shadowbolt 2, fly runway heading, runway 22L, cleared for takeoff.”

“Cleared for takeoff 22L, Shadowbolt 2.” Dash calls back, and joining hands, we advance the throttles to takeoff thrust. Dash then leaves her hand at the throttles so I can put both hands on the yoke.

80 knots.

“Check.”

V1

Rotate.

V2

Positive rate, gear up.

“Shadowbolt 2, contact departure. Great flight.”

2,500’ AGL. Flaps up. Speed to 250 knots. Autothrottle engage.

“Switching to NorCal, see you soon, Shadowbolt 2.” I call since Dash grabs the flaps.

Dash then switches the radios and takes care of the communication.

“NorCal departure, Shadowbolt 2 off of Sacramento Mather, 2,800 climbing 12,000.”

“Shadowbolt 2, NorCal departure, radar contact 3 miles SW Mather. Proceed direct Sacramento, Executive altimeter 29.93.”

“29.93, direct Sacramento, position checks, Shadowbolt 2.”

“Climb checklist.”

“Landing gear.”

“Up, lever into the off position.”

“Got it.” Dash calls back putting the gear lever into the middle position. “Flaps?”

“Up.”

“Climb thrust?”

“Set.”

“Climb rate? Set the rate that holds 250 knots.”

“I think you took care of that.”

“Yes I did.”

“Navigation? Direct Sacramento.”

“Thence via own nav. Taxi lights off. Cruise checklist complete.”

“Awesome.”

As the aircraft navigates to the Sacramento VOR, I ping the cabin.

“Go for Sunset.”

“Have you issued the second welcome?”

“Not yet. You want me to do it now?”

“I can.”

“That’s fine then.”

“Roger, thanks. Bye.”

“Bye.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard our flight once again. We’d like to extend a special welcome to our MVP’s, gold, and silver mileage members as well as those joining us from global airline partners. We’re expecting a mostly smooth flight to Maui this morning. In about 10-15 minutes, flight attendants will begin our inflight beverage service along with a light snack. Please refer to your refreshment menu in the seatback pocket in front of you for a complete listing of available drinks. Alcoholic beverages are not available for purchase. Our aircraft is equipped with complimentary WiFi access. Select the network “N493AS” and follow onscreen instructions. Once again, thank you for your patronage, welcome aboard.”

“Shadowbolt 2, contact Oakland center on 132.95.”

“32.95, Shadowbolt 2.” “Oakland, Shadowbolt 2, 9,200 for 12,000.”

“Shadowbolt 2, Oakland Center, Roger. Climb and maintain FL240.”

“240, Shadowbolt 2.”

Passing 10,000, no speed limits except the speed of sound. Sorry Rainbow Dash, no sonic [rain]booms.

Climb performance looks good. Fuel looks good with about 1 1/2 hours reserve.

Entering the flight levels (FL180 - 18,000 feet), altimeter 29.92.

“Cruise checklist.

Altitude?”

“38,000.”

“Airspeed?”

“Set to Mach 0.80.”

“Normally we’d cruise at 0.79, but I want to get us there quick as we can. It’ll be smooth most of the way, so if we hit a pocket, we shouldn’t get bumped into the overspeed range.

Fuel flow?”

“2.8 per side.”

“5,600-5,700 pounds per hour is exactly what we’re aiming for.” I say as I hit the progress button on the FMC.

TIME/DIST TO/FIX/FUEL
2338Z/1447/PHOG/8.8

“Landing, pulse lights?”

“Off, and off.”

“Seatbelt sign.”

“Off!”

“Shadowbolt 2, contact Oakland on 131.95 for SELCAL.”

“131.95, Shadowbolt 2.”

“Cruise checklist complete?”

“Oakland Center, Shadowbolt 2, FL380.” Dash calls responding with a thumbs up.

“Shadowbolt 2, primary frequency 6673 Hz, secondary frequency 11282 Hz, here’s your SELCAL.”

Two pings precede a quarter second of silence, followed in kind by two more pings. No two pings can be the same, and a code can only be in alphabetical order, so every second ping will always be higher than the first.

“Do you know how SELCAL works?” I ask Rainbow.

“No.”

“Okay.” I respond before calling ATC back. “6673 Primary, 11282 Secondary, SELCAL received. Current position 2.5 East of BAART. Next report will be… BARAZ at 2024Z.”

“Shadowbolt 2, Roger.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, from the flight deck, cruising here at 38,000 feet. We unfortunately expect a few minutes later than expected arrival due to strong headwinds. We’ll try our best to make up for that lost time, but we also have just been notified of some rain forecast before our arrival. We don’t expect it to be raining when we arrive, but encountering that system does mean that we can expect some pretty rough air during the descent. Springtime in Hawaii is generally marked by these kinds of systems, so it’s nothing out of the ordinary. As I said earlier, we‘ll be keeping an eye on this system and don’t expect any delays as a result. We‘ll receive updates hourly, and notify you of anything that may delay our arrival. Thank you, we appreciate your patience.”

*Ping from SELCAL*

“You hear those rising dial tones?” I ask Dash.

“Yeah?”

“That’s SELCAL. Because I turned the radio down due to the sparse traffic out here, they’ll ping us specifically for queries.”

“Alright.” She nods. “Cool.”

“Shadowbolt 2, sorry about that. Go ahead.”

“Shadowbolt 2, Oakland. Position report. Time now 2024Z.”

“Shadowbolt 2, currently 3 miles east of BARAZ, 24 minutes past the hour, FL380. Next report will be BILLO at 2118Z. Remarks: temperature at altitude: -48. Smooth ride. No clouds within 20 NM.”

“Shadowbolt 2, roger. Thank you. Is your arrival time of 2335Z still valid?”

“Just to be safe, we’ll amend to 2345Z, Shadowbolt 2. Also, we’re now leaving BARAZ at this time.”

“Shadowbolt 2, roger.”

“Why don’t you just leave the radio on?” Dash asks. “If the waves are dead out here, wouldn’t that be the best place to keep alert?”

“Sure? I agree with you, but I know that there’s an element of fatigue that’s often cited by other pilots, and because we’re not in the radar environment. For some reason, the workload is reduced by only bothering with the radio if you get pinged.”

“Probably covers some bases if, say, some pilots take a nap.”

“Maybe.”

“You can if you want to. I know how much you hate this plane.”

“I don’t *hate* the 737. I’m just a fan of wide-bodies.”

An evil grin crosses my face. “Ha! If you had met me like right out of Uni, you probably would’ve liked me.”

“Very funny.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but someone with your slender and athletic build, someone who’s built bigger would be the last type of person I’d expect you to fancy.”

“Just because I’m built small doesn’t mean I don’t like people with a little meat on them.”

“Fair enough. Your dad seems like that type, so at the risk of sounding incestuous, you like people that are like your dad?”

“Not really? Physically, maybe at best. You know all the stories I tell about them. I love them, and our relationship is strong, but before that, they gave me praise for just about every little thing I did.”

“I can understand, though I guess I could crudely justify their overbearing behavior as ‘Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic.’”

“Ugh!” She groans rolling her eyes. “You and your word plays. I swear one of these days I’m gonna call The Police on you.”

I shoot her a “you realize what you just said” look, to which realization hits her.

“Damn it.”

I heartily chuckle at that.

“Look Max, I know I’m awesome, and so are you, but there’s no way in hell you would ever have a chance with me.”

“I wasn’t looking. I was just being facetious. Besides, even if I was, I’ll quote what I said to Rarity. ‘I will always default to “it’s just a crush, it’ll go away.’ Not like you’d be interested in me anyway. I’m not awesome enough for you.”

“Can we stop? All this namby-pamby stuff is making me sick.”

“Good night, Rainbow Dash.”

A few minutes later, the intercom rings.

“Flight deck, go ahead.”

“You want anything?”

“Um, a water for sure, and, uh, what snacks you got?”

“Pretzels, chips, cookies, the works.”

“I should probably abstain then. Gotta watch my salt buildup.”

“Just the water then?”

“Yeah.”

“Open the door in 10 seconds.”

“Got it.”

I hang up and count from 10. Then, I hold down the unlock button for the door, and three seconds later, Sunset enters.

“Order up.” She says as she presents me with a 16.9 oz/0.5 L bottle.

“Thank you.”

“Rainbow asleep?”

“Yep. Out like a light.”

“Typical Rainbow Dash. She’ll fall asleep just about anywhere.”

“She’s lucky. We still have 3 1/2 hours to go.”

“Cool. Be back in a half hour.”

“Ok thanks.”

1 hour until descent. Rainbow Dash has been asleep up to this point, which actually makes the journey really nice because I can put on my music, only getting interrupted by SELCAL for position and/or weather reports.

“Shadowbolt 2, contact HCF approach on 124.1.”

“124.1, Shadowbolt 2.” I grab. “Honolulu approach, Shadowbolt 2, level at FL380.”

“Shadowbolt 2, HCF approach, Roger. Say position.”

“Shadowbolt 2 is just inside of BOARD, approximately a mile and a half.”

“Shadowbolt 2, roger.”

A few minutes later, HCF calls back.

“Shadowbolt 2, radar contact 35 miles east of BITTA, FL380.”

“Position checks, Shadowbolt 2.”

“Shadowbolt 2, roger. Descend via the LNDHY One arrival, expect the, uh… actually, which approach would you like? You’re one of two arrivals into Kahului in the next half hour.”

“We’ll go ahead and do the RNAV RNP, Shadowbolt 2.”

“Shadowbolt 2, roger. Descend via the LNDHY One arrival, expect the RNAV RNP runway 2 approach.”

“Descend via the LNDHY One, RNAV RNP runway 2, Shadowbolt 2.” “Rainbow Dash is still asleep, so I’ll just do a silent Arrival brief.”

“BITTA transition to the LNDHY One. Cross BITTA at or above FL280. From BITTA, track 183° to BIKUZ, cross at or above 16,000. From BIKUZ, track 183° to LNDHY, cross at or above 9,000 at 250 knots. From LNDHY, track 205° to MUNJU, cross at or above 7,000 at 220 knots. From MUNJU, track 205° to HOMAI, cross at 5000 at 210 knots. Landing runway 2, there is a transition from HOMAI on the RNAV RNP approach.

“RNAV RNP runway 2 approach into Kahului, HOMAI transition. Primary navaid RNP authorized and WAAS enabled GPS, which checks operational and not affected by NOTAMs or outages. Approach course inbound 024°, 6,995’ of runway available, airport and touchdown zone elevation both 53’. HOMAI transition, cross at 5,000 at or below 210 knots, track 205° to KAWLA, descend and maintain 4,100, cross KAWLA at or below 200 knots. From KAWLA, track 204° to cross ZORTI at or above 3,200. From ZORTI, then descending right turn to WOREK, minimum altitude 1,800; continuing descending right turn to WASBA, the final approach fix, at or above 1,200. From WASBA, at 1,200, glideslope down to RNP 0.30 minima of 349 feet with 3/4 mile visibility. Missed approach point glideslope intercept at 349. If we have lights but no environment, descend to 153, normal maneuvers, normal descent to land, otherwise go missed. Missed approach procedure: climb straight ahead to 3,000, direct KRANE, hold as published, approach brief, complete.

“Speeds, at our current weight, we’ll want to fly the approach at 160 knots, reducing to 150 in the turn, and 140 once rolled out on final, possibly and likely in fact add 5 knots pending the ATIS. No speed restrictions on the LNDHY until MUNJU, but for all intents and purposes, we’ll hold no more than 300 knots. As per my usual, at or below 300 knots until transition altitude (flight levels), then at or below 280 between transition altitude and 10,000, then at or below 250 between 10,000 and whatever restrictions imposed by the STAR.

We’ll keep our descent shallow, we have about 80 miles to lose 10,000 feet, so we can descend roughly 1000 fpm. The storm system is now showing up on the airplane radar, and by the looks of it is still dumping rain, right on Kahului’s aerodrome.

“Good morning!” I greet Rainbow Dash as she groggily wakes up.

“How long was I out?”

“Oh, just shy of three hours. We’re beginning our initial descent now.”

“How’s the storm faring?”

“Surprisingly, it’s moving towards us, but we haven’t picked up anything associated with it other than a radar return. There aren’t any hazardous weather reports out, nor are there any FICON reports yet. I expect that once we get a little lower, we’ll get something. The storm is right over the airport right now, so hopefully we’ll get a FICON soon. ATC notified us that we’re the only arrival in the next half hour, and one of only two over the next full [hour.] I’ve already briefed myself on the arrival and the approach. We’ll be shooting the RNAV RNP approach, and, uh, I think that’s it.”

“What’s the next checklist?”

“Descent. Run it closer to 10,000 though. We’re still in the flight levels.”

“What’s Maui’s ATIS?”

“128.6.”

“I’ll get it for you.” She says looking down at the radio.

Having set the frequency while she was asleep, all she has to do is flip the frequency and monitor it.

“Maui airport information X-Ray, 2240Z weather. Wind 340 at 6. Visibility 10. Scattered clouds at 5,600, broken 11,000, overcast 15,000. Temperature 19, dewpoint 16, altimeter 29.94. ILS and visual runway 2 in use. Landing and departing runway 2. Notices to airmen: taxiway B north of taxiway F closed. Advisory: all aircraft read back hold short instructions. All VFR aircraft contact clearance delivery prior to taxi. Advise on initial contact you have information X-Ray.”

“Okay, ATIS is X. That doesn’t sound accurate though.”

“Give it 5 minutes.”

“Maui airport information Yankee, 2300Z weather. Wind 330 at 20. Visibility 9. Sky condition broken 9,000. Overcast 13,000. Temperature 19, dewpoint 16, altimeter 29.92. ILS and visual runway 2 in use. Landing and departing runway 2. Notices to airmen: taxiway B north of taxiway F closed. Advisory: all aircraft read back hold short instructions. All VFR aircraft contact clearance delivery prior to taxi. Advise on initial contact you have information Yankee.”

“That changed quick. 340 at 6 to 330 at 20 in 20 minutes?”

“Yay. Probably means it’s a quick storm. Approaching BITTA, minimum altitude 16,000. Minimum descent rate now 1900 fpm to cross BIKUZ at 16,000. Airspeed bugged at 290.”

*calling cabin*

“Go for Sunset.”

“We’re getting into the thick of the descent. It’s probably gonna get rough, so do the final service and clean sweep.”

“You want anything?”

“Nah. I’m good.”

“Alright. We’ll call you when we’re secured.”

“Thanks. Bye.”

Approaching BIKUZ, speed to 250 knots, cross at or above 9,000. 250 knots below 10,000 feet.”

“Descent checklist?”

“Go ahead.” I say just as we reach 16,000’.

“Landing, taxi, wing/pulse lights?”

“All on below 10,000’.”

“Airspeed?”

“Below 250 knots to account for descent.”

“Seat belt sign?”

“On.”

“Spoilers?”

“Armed. We may need to use them to keep our speed within limits.”

“Approach brief?”

“Already done.”

“Descent checklist complete.”

“Thank you.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, as we begin our descent into Kahului/Maui, please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts securely. Return chair backs and tray tables to their full upright and locked position. Please ensure that all aisle armrests are down, all window shades open, and that any cabin baggage onboard is safely stored for landing. Flight attendants will be passing through the cabin to pick up any remaining service items at this time.” Twilight says over the horn.

“Okay, Rainbow Dash. In preparation for meeting this storm head on, I will need you to back me up on some things. Aside from checklists, I would like you to keep a close hand near the throttles, particularly during landing. If for whatever reason I can’t get the thrust reversers out, you might have better luck than me. Similarly, I will need you to arm the autopilot bugs for me on my mark in case we go missed.”

“Alright!”

“Here’s the approach plate. Brief it if you want. The missed approach altitude is 3,000.”

Approaching 15,000. A spike in airspeed is met with a small pocket of air.

“There’s our first bump.” Rainbow quips.

Suddenly, another quick jolt strikes us. I actually flex in my core at the brief stint of about 1.4 G, so I check the security of the seatbelts and ping the cabin.

“Hello? Twilight speaking.”

“Hey, how’s final service? Everyone good and seated?”

“Almost. Sunset and Applejack are chatting, and it looks like we’re consolidating all the trash, so we should be seated pretty soon here.”

“Okay. We’ve hit a few pockets, and it looks like it’s only gonna get worse. I hope our journey to Anchorage wasn’t too traumatizing.”

“I trust you.”

“Thanks, Twilight. Over and out.”

*call from cabin*

“Flight deck, go ahead.”

“All passengers seated, belts fastened. Cabin secure.”

“Roger that.”

A few minutes after I readjust my seat to make sure I have full reach of the controls, we begin to hit more frequent and severe air. It’s nowhere near as bad as the storm from when I took Twilight to Anchorage, but it’s definitely not an optimal situation to be in.

“Ladies and gentlemen, from the flight deck, unfortunately the weather in Kahului is pretty much the same as when we departed. It’s been raining on and off, and last we checked, the weather was reporting moderate rain and rather gusty winds. As a result, I do apologize in advance to all the nervous flyers onboard. The safest course of action to take with a short and wet runway is to plant it rather firmly on touchdown. The reason for this is to avoid hydroplaning, and with a shorter runway, we need all the braking action we can get, so while the approach and landing will be pretty rough, please understand it is necessary for the conditions today. Thank you.”

As we descend into the clouds, I say rhetorically,

“Well, this should be interesting…”

Eyeing the storm and its interaction with the terrain of Maui is highly indicative of a difficult time ahead. With this, there is one song that comes to mind.

I turn on both windshield wipers in anticipation of an onslaught of torrential rain and vicious, humid, muggy wind, which by what the airspeed indicator shows, seems to be coming at us from all directions.

The plane lurches and sways as the wind tears at us; with pitters and patters as though in rain. (Because it is.)

“You wanna go back?” I ask Rainbow Dash between jolts, grunting and suppressing an exclamation of “shit” as a jolt sends my stomach into my chest.

“No way! This is the best seat in the house.”

“Great, you can watch what I do.”

Suddenly, we become Zero G. If navigating an Alberta clipper is driving on a road with potholes, then this is driving on a World Rally Course.

Below 10,000, landing, taxi, pulse/wing lights, on.

Approaching LNDHY, the ride, in traditional World Rally Championship form, pummels us with brief Zero G arcs followed both swiftly and not by downdrafts that make us feel twice our weight on the down. Autopilot is still doing a good job of holding our course just as the rain starts coming at us in sheets. With an indicated outside air temperature of 22, this feels like a cooler monsoon, though I know for a fact that monsoon is too severe. These storm systems, rough as they may seem, are relatively normal, exacerbated however by living in both a valley and an isthmus, the former being the namesake of the island’s nickname, “The Valley Isle.”

Approaching LNDHY, level at 9,000, speed 250 knots. Speed to 220 knots, descend and maintain 7,000.

I wish I could keep the cockpit door open so I can get the connection to the passengers and flight attendants, but because this is my first flight with the organization, I must keep the door closed for security reasons.

“Shadowbolt 2, passing HOMAI, cleared RNAV RNP runway 2 approach.”

“Cleared RNAV RNP runway 2, Shadowbolt 2.”

Approaching MUNJU, speed 210, descend and maintain 5,000.

The turbulence feels less like a rally stage and more like a rock concert now, a relatively constant and steady motion that you almost want to bop your head to. At least, semi-involuntarily, because it’s pretty bangin’ at altitude.

“Shadowbolt 2, contact Maui tower now, 118.7.”

“118.7, great day, Shadowbolt 2.” “Maui tower, Shadowbolt 2, RNAV RNP 2.”

“Shadowbolt 2, Maui tower. Runway 2, winds 340 at 25, altimeter 29.96, continue inbound. Traffic a helicopter maneuvering low level, east side, should be no factor.”

“Continue inbound for runway 2, traffic in sight, Shadowbolt 2.”

Pretty soon, we reach the bottom of the clouds. I tell Dash to note the cloud bases and watch as the airspeed indicator sloshes around in response to the rapid changes in wind direction and speed.

“Tower, Shadowbolt 2, what’s the FICON?”

“Shadowbolt 2, current reports show… 5/4/4 for runway 2, reported by a Boeing 737.”

“Shadowbolt 2.”

Passing HOMAI, speed to 180, set flaps 5.

Below 190 knots, set flaps 10.

Rolling into the curved legs of the approach, flaps 15.

“Alright,” I say now low enough to where I would rather hand fly it. “Autopilot disengage!”

With one hand on the throttles, I increase thrust a few percent N1 and follow the prescribed path the GPS and PFD show. It’s tough to hold a constant bank angle or pitch attitude, so I trim a few notches to help with back pressure.

Since the surface winds are pretty high and heavily favorable for a landing on runway 2, I actually have to reduce the turn and in fact even roll wings level to catch the course again. Strong tailwind shearing to strong headwind will tighten that turn radius.

2,000 feet. Slowly rolling out on final approach, “landing gear down.”

Dash flips the lever for me and the three annunciator lights flash red.

“3 green, down and locked.” Dash calls.

“Thank you, flaps 25.”

“Final approach checklist.

“Landing gear?”

“Down, 3 green.”

“Spoilers?”

“Arm.” I say arming the speed brakes.

“Auto brakes?”

“Set to 3.”

“Flaps?”

“30 please.”

“Got it. Final approach checklist complete.”

“Thank you.”

“Shadowbolt 2, winds 360 at 24 gusts 33, runway 2, cleared to land.“

“Cleared to land runway 2, Shadowbolt 2.” I grab for her.

“1000.” The GPWS calls out.

If you were to watch me manipulate the yoke, in response to the occasional gust and general bumpiness of the ride down, Dash wouldn’t necessarily be in the wrong to brazenly quip,

“Stop over-controlling.”

“I really don’t care. You know we’re trying to get somewhere.”

“Dude, watch what you say.”

“Watch what I do.” I respond as the GPWS calls out,

“500.”

“200.”

“Altitude 3,000 please.”

Dash responds by setting 3,000 and hitting the arm button.

“100.”

“Airspeed to 200 just in case we have to go around.”

Set but not armed. I have control of the throttles.

“50.”

“40.”

“30.”

“20.”

“10.”

ToUcHdOWN! Spoilers up! Brakes on! 2 in reverse!

45 knots, disengage reverse thrust.

“YEAH!!!” Rainbow Dash cheers as a chorus of claps and cheers faintly permeates from beyond the door as I stow the reversers. Whether a celebration of the landing or excitement to be at their spring dance in Hawaii I don’t know.

“Shadowbolt 2, continue all the way to the end, right A, cleared onto runway 23, then a left onto runway 20. Taxi Sunshine via Runway 20 and B, remain this frequency. Caution helicopter landing Sunshine ramp.”

“Right at the end, cleared onto 23, cleared onto 20, B to the ramp, stay with you on tower, Shadowbolt 2.” Dash calls for the final time.

Just as I prepare to speak to the passengers, Sunset beats me to the punch.

“On behalf of your flight crew and student association, we’d like to welcome you to the island of Maui! Please remain seated until the aircraft has come to a complete stop and the Captain has turned off the fasten seatbelt sign. At that time, please use caution when deplaning. I know you’re all excited to get to your venue, but please do exercise caution, especially because we will be deplaning via stairs. As you can see, it is still pretty wet outside. It has been an absolute pleasure serving you this morning, and unfortunately for your return trip, only Captain Max will be joining you. The rest of us however would like to happily thank you for your patronage and cooperation. Thank you so much, welcome to Hawaii!”

“Well, that was easy.” I say nonchalantly after turning off runway 2.

“Well, a landing is just a controlled crash.”

“You call that a crash? I call it a fly-in.”

“Here to perform on this deserted island.”

“Perform?”

“If you can hand fly that approach, especially because the autopilot couldn’t, holding the kind of airmanship I just saw, then I need to chill, ‘cuz you know just who I am.”

“You’re just jealous because I leave people smiling.”

“That’s because we’re in Hawaii, dude.”

“Fair enough. All jokes aside, in all seriousness, coming from a Blue Angel, that really means a lot, so thank you.” I say literally tipping my hat, trying my darndest to not choke up in front of Dash.

“I’ll fly with you any day!” She responds triumphantly, to which I shed a single tear.

Ironically, as that tear falls, the rain slowly lets up, so I complete the after landing checklist.

Spoilers down.
Brakes off.
Flaps up.
Landing, strobe, wing/pulse, off once clear of runway.
Transponder 1200.

I turn the wipers down and make out a lineman, so I follow his prompts to park.

Once parked, I set the parking brake.

“Shutdown checklist.
Engine 1.
Throttle idle.
Fuel and power, cutoff.
Generator, off.
Engine 2.
Throttle idle.
Fuel and power, cutoff.
Generator, off.

Seatbelt sign, off. Engine shutdown checklist complete.”

Author's Note

FICON stands for Field Condition, and is measured in three numbers X/X/X, where each number on a scale from 0 to 6 represents reported breaking action, 0 being no braking action and 6 unseen in reports, as condition 6 is a dry runway.

A: Night at the Spring Dance Hall

After the airplane is secured, Rosalina comes over to meet me.

We share a hug before I check my phone. I thought it was buzzing, but turns out it was Rosalina.

“Nice landing.”

“Oh, thanks.” I respond in person.

“I got it on video too.” She says as we head inside to the sight of students boarding buses from the office.

As they board, she shows me video of the airplane rocking back and forth in the trade winds. Even through the helicopter window, my heart starts pounding as I watch Rosalina’s recording of the approach and landing.

“Please send that to me.”

“Done. Do you want to follow the buses to the venue?”

“Why not? Are you done for the day?”

“Yes. All my appointments cancelled or were cancelled.”

“Sorry to hear.“

After the buses start moving, we jump into Rosalina’s car and follow them. I know the venue is in Kihei, so it’s a question of where within the small town it is.

With Rosalina at the controls, I let my ego inflate temporarily and watch the footage of my landing. Arguably one of my best, and definitely my best one when “on the clock/for hire.” The only landing I imagine that could come close to it is the landing in Kona after the long haul from Dulles, but I imagine that may be because a landing as smooth as that one after a 9-10 hour flight just makes it that much sweeter.

Anyway, when we park at what appears to be our venue, only the SA gets out. I decide to follow them to the front and make sure everything’s okay.

“Captain Scimitar!” Upper Echelon calls just as I catch up to them. “I completely forgot, did you have a +1?”

“I did.”

“Okay, good. I didn’t want to short-change you.”

“I would’ve been alone, but fortunately, my wife became available.”

“Even better. We budgeted for 120, and right now we’re at 110. I don’t want to waste too much of the budget.”

“That’s good.”

“Nice flying by the way.”

“Oh, thank you. Is there anything you need help with?”

“I don’t think so. Let me check in and we’ll see.”

“Please.” I say as the staff heads inside.

Cadance and Radiant Hope then talk to me and I relay what Upper Echelon said. They follow her in just as other faculty/staff members follow suit. The remaining adults then make sure not to unload the buses until the all clear has been given.

Rosalina stands by my side just as it starts to rain again. We decide to head back to the car to seek shelter.

“Thanks for joining me. I honestly didn’t even know if I would come, since I had the girls with me. But, as it stands, they wanted to vacation here, so it worked out nicely.”

“I’m glad to be with you, even if it is for a school function.”

“The irony in the fact that we’re not even considered parents, just “by proxy.” The school said I would likely be their official “airline,” with Cadance’s backing.”

“Which one is Cadance?”

“She’s the one with the long, curled hair. I don’t think you two have met before.”

“We haven’t.”

“You’ll like her. She’s actually Twilight’s sister-in-law. And her former babysitter, though that term is rather loose given their age gap.”

“She seems nice.”

“She’s very easygoing, in spite of the difficulties of being a mother to a baby whose father is in the military.”

“Her husband is a service member?”

“Affirm. He’s stationed at Elmendorf, but even though he’s Air Force, he hasn’t flown. He’s a field general, so instead of leading an aerial squadron, he’s a strategist.”

“Interesting. Would be the first time I’ve met an Air Force member who’s never flown.”

“Same here.“

Soon, we get called in, evidenced by the alighting of the buses. Of course, when we follow them in, we wait until the very end to make sure no one is left behind. Soon after we follow the crowd, the buses pull out of the parking lot just as the doors close behind us.

At our table, Cadance for some reason switched seats so that I’m sitting between her and Rosalina. Other staff who I didn’t get to formally meet then introduce themselves.

As I chat to some teachers who ask me mostly about my career, we’re soon seated so Upper Echelon can welcome us.

“Hello, Aloha, good evening, and welcome, Crystal Prep Academy! Welcome to this year’s Spring Dance. As we’ve fervently advertised through school, our theme this year is “layover in paradise.” For this reason, I would like to extend a special welcome and huge thank you to our Pilot, Captain Max for getting us here.”

To my slight discomfort at being the center of attention, I acknowledge the crowd’s applause and cheers.

“I’d also like to thank the rest of his crew who unfortunately could not be here with us tonight. Nevertheless, I’d like to thank our faculty and staff, specifically Principal Cadance and Nurse Radiant Hope, who have worked tirelessly alongside the student association along with Captain Max. Thank you for your efforts to lead us up to tonight, because we would not be able to enjoy this occasion without your hard work and dedication to us as a student body. Our meal for this evening will be ready shortly, so at this time, please do get comfortable and find your seat assignments. Thank you!”

Upper Echelon ends her speech to more applause and cheers, to which I take a few sips of water.

Rosalina fortunately has been pretty engaging in the conversations she has with the faculty and staff, so I’m not actually doing any talking. I am however enjoying the sounds of the conversation and liveliness of the room. I understand that the Spring Dance is something that Crystal Prep takes very seriously, and after the semi-adventurous flight over, I imagine some of the students are hyped up for it.

After refilling my glass once already, our first appetizers arrive. Besides bread and butter, it looks like the theme is definitely island inspired.

As we eat away, Cadance understandably is on her phone, texting her husband. As Rosalina eats, I lean over to her and whisper.

“How good of a dancer are you?”

“I may be a little rusty. It will have been a while.”

“Same here. I have zero ballroom experience, so if there’s a formal cotillion, we can embarrass ourselves together.”

Rosalina chuckles. “I’m okay with that.”

A few more rounds of drinks and conversation, and while I’m busy talking to an administrator about the school’s client profile, our main course arrives.

As we dig in, Cadance and I swap seats to she can talk to Rosalina and I can talk to both Radiant Hope and the administrator, Kristal Hardt, who is the school’s chairwoman of the board.

To my surprise, the way we speak feels less like a formal conversation and more like a non-traditional interview, in the sense that the dialogue while feeling semi-rehearsed is still attempting to remain and communicate a sense of casualness. Talking about my career, previous experience with large groups, and of course, establishing the relationship to keep each other on our good side.

Crystal Prep has exemplary sports programs along with their orchestra. It shouldn’t be surprising then that many of their sports, including track & field, soccer, and even softball travel statewide and on auspicious occasions nationally. Some of their athletes have been recognized and honored by their athletic conference, and a few of their star athletes have gone professional. In this conversation, I’m still feeling a palpable sense of timidity in her talking.

Cadance did mention her account of the story behind her hiring, and as it turns out, the previous principal though creating a very high-achieving school, ran it rather intensely. Severely intolerant of losses or any and all shortcomings, and competitive to the point of “It’s not enough to leave them in the dust. They would wish they could taste the dust.”

My heart bleeds for those that had to suffer through such a hyper-competitive environment. The story of her transformation actually made the local news and as a result the previous principal was arrested on charges of fraud, conspiracy, and what Ms. Hardt describes as “academic subterfuge.” Falsifying test scores, attempting to undermine the athletics if it wasn’t to her liking, and many other blatantly unethical behaviors, all for the sake of the school’s image and reputation.

Midway through the meal, as servers make rounds to refill drinks and slowly bus dishes, the night’s entertainment takes the stage. Normally, in the right circumstances, we would have a full hula dance troupe, but due to limitations of an indoor venue and time constraints, we settle for a 45-minute performance of a hula dance that I’m only vaguely familiar with.

I may only possess a rudimentary understanding of hula, and most interpretive dance for that matter, but the dance they’re presenting is oddly reminiscent of the story of the demigod Māui (who is actually not the namesake of the island).

Māui is known throughout most of Polynesian culture, not just Hawaii, but many of his tales are pretty similar across the cultures. According to legend, Māui was a bit of a prankster, and contrary to his famous accoutrement, was not known as a fisherman, and in fact was notoriously terrible at it. It is however a symbol of one of his most famous exploits, the creation of the Hawaiian Islands. Legend says that in spite of his skills, or lack thereof, Māui went fishing with his brothers at their behest.

Māui casts off and catches his hook on the ocean floor. The perceived “bite” of a big fish prompts them to start paddling as quick as they could. However, if one of the brothers looked back, the fish would let go. Despite their massive efforts, none of his brothers noticed the island popping up behind them. That island we know today as Kaua‘i. This trick was repeated a handful of times, each time yielding a new island. After Kaua’i came Ni‘ihau, followed by O‘ahu, Moloka‘i, Lana‘i, Maui, Kaho‘olawe, and then, Hawai‘i.

His next great exploit also involved his fishhook, which was made from the bones of his deified ancestors. The hook was the source of his power, but he himself wasn’t, hence his demigod status. None of his brothers had any kind of powers despite being children of deities, making Māui the only child to have such powers. His fishhook is what is now known as the constellation Scorpio.

According to legend, Māui’s mother was annoyed that her cloth would not dry, as the days were too short, or rather, the sun was moving too fast and quite irregularly across the sky. In response, Māui ascended to the summit of Hale-a-ka-lā and steals bananas from his grandmother who resides there. A blind woman, she comes to recognize her grandson through this and offers her help in his quest in exchange for the stolen bananas. Standing atop a wiliwili tree, Māui lassos the sun by its rays, stopping it dead in its tracks, and as a result pleads for its life. The deal they negotiate is that the days of summer will be longer and the days of winter will be shorter.

I should probably mention that the lasso was made from his sister’s pubic hair, and the sun’s rays were its metaphorical genitalia, so…

It’s worth noting that the Hawaiian god of the sun, Kāne, is also the same word for man. Without treading into truly debaucherous territory, there is a certain irony about the god of the sun pleading for its life when it’s been caught by the balls in a rope made from female pubic hair. Then again, other religions similarly believed that the sun and rain were both figurative and literal semen from the gods essential to life on earth, so this tale isn’t all that far-fetched.

Two of Māui’s most riveting tales take up almost all the time, including brief spiels on what the dance means after each one.

Rosalina and I both give each other semi-quizzical looks throughout each routine to see if it’s what we remember from both her tour scripts and my own knowledge from my various tours and time here in the islands. Ultimately, the two of us dismiss any preconceived notions we have since 1. They’re definitely more knowledgeable than us because it’s literally in their line of work. And 2. Neither of us have needed to regularly reference them in this form. Obviously, we have to understand the plot of the tale to know that because ancient humans tended to deify things that were beyond human control, modern hindsight teaches us that nowadays, we know what’s happening in the natural world and making the connections to what civilizations mythified and the natural world’s explanation for said events.

To use an example from this very performance, the legend of pulling the Hawaiian islands out of the ocean. This may very well be a creation myth. However, it’s well-known that the Hawaiian islands formed by a series of volcanic eruptions over millions of years in the Hawaii geological hotspot. So, ancient civilizations believed it was the work of a demigod, but now today we know that there was in fact a terrestrial explanation for what was at the time deemed as extraterrestrial handiwork.

At the end of the routine, to much applause and a standing ovation, the group exits the stage as stage hands prepare the floor for the titular event of the night.

Students, faculty and staff all line up and prepare for the first dance of the night, the cotillion.

Extending my hand and bowing elegantly, almost losing the hat, I catch it with my other hand just as Rosalina curtseys and giggles, mostly at me almost dropping my hat.

Those with prior experience at a cotillion may or may not be familiar with its roots in French culture. The traditional dance actually had lyrics.

« Ma commère, quand je danse, mon cotillon va-t-il bien? » (“My friend/comrade, when we dance, is my petticoat doing/moving well?”)

Let me use a more familiar approach, as the original French lyrics follow the exact same meter.

“Blue red, step ahead. Green black, now step back.
Black, green, red, and blue. Red, black, hold one and two.
Red, blue, red once more. Green, black, blue, red, three and four.”

When the music starts, Rosalina and I complete the first set of moves, as that’s what we remember, but after the first few steps, we both kind of drag our feet and follow the flow of the crowd, who to my utter surprise nail it like pros. It’s almost as if the entire student body was required to attend a cotillion or class in formal dance in prep for this very event. Color me impressed.

When the music ends, despite our best efforts to follow along, we end up on opposite sides of where we started but otherwise it’s gone relatively smooth.

Back to the top, we try and mirror each other by role reversing, but as Rosalina does most of the movements, I get caught in her having fun and almost miss my own cues. Fortunately, since we’re role reversed, I don’t have to do all the movement, so when we finish again, I curtesy and Rosalina bows. We acknowledge the completion of the dance with applause and decide to sit out the next round as a much more upbeat song begins.

“That was fun.” I say chuckling as the kids start to have fun.

“You’re a lot more knowledgeable with cotillion dance than you remember.” She responds.

“I remembered the French lyrics, somehow. Following that in meter helped a lot.”

“That’s true. A cotillion dance isn’t that hard once you know the meter. The dance steps are relatively easy after that.”

“Exactly. I‘ve never been to one, but I have had to do it for a stage performance back when I dappled in theater.”

“Do you have any footage?”

“I don’t ever recall being recorded, but if I was, I definitely don’t possess any footage.”

“Oh.”

As we watch the students light it up on the floor, I take a look at the weather for the return trip. That storm system is tracking more northbound than northeast-bound now, so if we leave as close to our target as possible, the ride home should be smooth as silk. I also file the flight plan with a departure for 18:30 local. Since we’re only here for the day, this event may very well be lunch/early dinner. One could argue that that would be an inconvenience based on the time zone, but considering that any acclimation would have to be accomplished in a window of less than 24 hours, mealtime may as well be based on pacific time. Better yet, Spring Forward isn’t until this coming weekend, which was intentional.

Oh how I wish we could’ve had either Vinyl or Spike come and DJ. Both had to decline on account of the length of time they’d need to free up. Both currently live and work on the east coast, so I completely understand.

After a few songs, I join in a few songs with the students by virtue of my own obligations. A couple of my favorite songs and one that the entire student body participates in, which as the finale, no one is sitting down for.

“Alright, Crystal Prep Academy!” The DJ hollers. “Thank you so much for having your spring dance here. That marks the end of our time together! Please travel safely and we hope you return to our lovely isles again! Aloha!”

Making haste for the bathroom, I ask Rosalina if she wants to fly with me, but she declines because she’s at a critical time in the business. Fortunately, most of the students will be asleep, so as far as beverages and snacks are concerned, it’ll be mostly self-serve.

While the buses load, Rosalina and I race back to Sunshine so I can preflight. With her help, the cabin is soon chilling to a more bearable temperature or at least more comfortable by virtue of circulating air, and the external walk-around is complete just before the buses arrive.

Since we’re right at closing time and all flights have concluded for the day, I ask Rosalina to hold the students indoors while I program the planned route into the FMS. After I verify it against the GPS, I head inside and address the students, though without a PA system, I have to speak up.

I raise my hand for their attention. A sea of shushes follows.

“Alright! I know we’re all a little sad to be leaving Hawaii, but at this time we’ll begin the boarding process! All those passengers that need extra time to board, please step forward at this time.”

Again, no takers, so after I wait for a few moments, I call out, “at this time, all passengers seated in the first class cabin, please step forward!”

All 16 in first class then verify themselves with Cadance and I. The two in premium economy then follow them since they’re sort of in-between the two major boarding groups.

After they pass through, Cadance gives me a signal so she can start crossing names off when I finally call, “at this time, we’d like to welcome all passengers aboard with Crystal Prep Academy.”

One by one, Cadance crosses off names with me, and despite some complications with a long line on the boarding stairs, all 90 students are checked off without needing to repeat ourselves. Even with only two to a side and no one with carry-ons or overhead bin luggage, there’s still a line, so I run to the baggage compartment and briefly check the luggage compartment to make sure the girls grabbed all their luggage. Nothing left behind, I return to the airplane and find just about everyone taking their seats.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard our flight. We are returning to Sacramento Mather airport. My name is Split Scimitar, but you can just call me Max. I am your Captain for this evening’s flight. In case you couldn’t tell, I am the only crew member for this leg, so let me lay down a few extra ground rules for flight with a single crew member. Snack and beverages will be self-serve, but please do take your fellow schoolmates into consideration. Rule number two, no more than one person waiting for the forward lavatory at a time. If I have to use the lavatory, I don’t want a crowd in this hallway, and I do respectfully ask you give me priority. Rule number three, if there is an emergency that requires my attention, please let one of the faculty or staff know. Principal Cadance is responsible for communicating with me. Please do not hesitate to let her know. Are there any questions about those rules specifically? If so, please ring your attendant call button.“

No one responds, so after I take a breath, I continue.

“Okay. If there are no additional questions, let me close and arm the doors, and we can get going.”

L1, R1, closed, locked, armed.

L4, R4, closed, locked, armed.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard our flight with service to Sacramento Mather Field. My name is Split Scimitar, but please call me Max. At this time, we are now ready for departure. Please direct your attention to the video monitors for a presentation of the safety features of this Boeing 737-900ER.”

When the video ends, I wrap up the cabin announcement with, “we’re expecting about 5 hours 15 minutes en route, so please sit back, relax, and enjoy our flight this evening.”

2 alight and stable.

Surfaces check. Flaps 10 for takeoff.

Cleared as filed, no anomalies, NOTAMs, or outstanding PIREPs. I think we’ll have a good flight ahead of us.

“Maui airport ATIS information Lima, 0440Z. Wind 010 at 11. Visibility 10. Scattered clouds at 13,000. Temperature 21, dewpoint 17, altimeter 30.11. ILS and Visual runway 2 in use. Landing and departing runway 2. Notices to airmen: taxiway B north of taxiway F closed. Advisory: all VFR aircraft contact clearance delivery prior to taxi. Advise on initial contact you have information Lima.”

“Maui ground, Shadowbolt 1, Sunshine ramp, Lima, taxi.”

“Shadowbolt 1, Maui ground, runway 2, taxi via C. Go ahead and switch to tower, 118.7.”

“C to runway 2, 118.7, Shadowbolt 1.”

“Shadowbolt 1, Maui tower. Will you be ready upon reaching?”

“Affirm, Shadowbolt 1.”

“Roger. Runway 2, line up and wait.”

“Line up and wait runway 2, Shadowbolt 1.”

“Shadowbolt 1, for your planning purposes, expect radar vectors with HCF approach.“

“Shadowbolt 1.”

“Hawaiian 526, Maui tower, report final approach fix inbound, traffic departing prior to your arrival a 737.”

“Report final approach fix inbound, Hawaiian 526.”

“Shadowbolt 1, runway 2, cleared for takeoff.”

“Cleared for takeoff runway 2, Shadowbolt 1.”

Set takeoff thrust, spool up, a short field takeoff.

Thrust set, brakes off, rolling.

80 knots.

V1

Rotate.

V2

Positive rate, gear up.

“Shadowbolt 1, contact HCF departure, Mahalo E Aloha!”

“HCF departure now, Mahalo E Aloha, Shadowbolt 1.” “HCF departure, Shadowbolt 1, HIAKA One, 2,400 climbing 9,000.” Flaps up.

“Shadowbolt 1, HCF departure, aloha. Traffic inbound to Maui opposite direction inbound on the LNDHY One. Expect radar vectors in about 5 minutes.”

“Roger traffic. What’s their transition?”

“Traffic proceeding via APACK.”

“Shadowbolt 1, roger.”

“Shadowbolt 1, turn right 10 degrees for spacing.”

“Right 10 degrees, Shadowbolt 1.”

Immediately, the incoming aircraft shows up on TCAS. Well clear of it even for wake turbulence (even though we’re both 737’s), I decide to hasten our climb since I have plenty of performance to spare once we pass 10,000.

“Ladies and gentlemen, from the flight deck, we’ve reached our cruising altitude of 37,000 feet. We’re expecting a smooth ride all the way home to Sacramento tonight. Our aircraft as I mentioned earlier is equipped with complimentary WiFi access, so if you do need to communicate travel information, our expected arrival time is about 2:10 am. At this time, I’ll turn off the seatbelt sign but please do remain seated with your seatbelts securely fastened in case we do encounter some rough air. If there are any outstanding changes, I’ll let you know as soon as possible. Also at this time, I will go ahead and leave the cockpit door open if there are any of you who may be interested in taking a peek. Thank you once again, welcome aboard.”

Once I finally release my own safety restraints, I breathe a little sigh once we’re with Oakland and in SELCAL territory. While it’s arguably the easiest part, it’s also the most boring part. A view of nothing but blue above and blue below, coupled to the setting sun. I’ve done flights like this before. Normally those flights leave at anywhere between 14:30 and 16:00, thus arriving on the mainland around midnight or so, but sometimes hourlong delays happen for whatever reason. Not that it bothers me.

I then take a quick peek back at the cabin. With a few exceptions of those on their phones, most of the cabin is asleep. To that I decide to grab couple of random drinks from the galley.

When the sun goes down, I turn on all the panel lights and the cabin lights to their lowest setting. With most of the students asleep and all but one of the adults, I wash my hands and return to the cockpit.

“Shadowbolt 1, descend and maintain FL280, proceed direct PIRAT, direct ARGGG, then direct Sacramento. Expect to transition via COLOM on the ILS runway 22L.”

“Descend FL280, direct PIRAT, direct ARGGG, direct Sacramento, expect COLOM, Shadowbolt 1.”

Cadance then sits down in the right seat.

“Hello Cadance. Just the woman I wanted to see.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Now that we’re descending, I wanted to debrief you on the arrival. Mostly stuff you should be familiar with. Since I don’t have any crew, I have to ask you to go up and down the aisle to make sure everyone’s seated, belted, and all their trash and stuff is taken care of. You should turn the cabin lights on so you can see and to indicate we’re in the final approach phase.

“You can wait a little. Usually it’s done twice just in case.”

“Was planning on it.”

“Perfect. Feel free to use the PA to wake everyone up too.”

“You got it.”

“Shadowbolt 1, cross Sacramento at or below 200 knots.”

“Sacramento at or below 200, Shadowbolt 1.”

“Shadowbolt 1, Half Moon Bay altimeter 30.02.”

“30.02, Shadowbolt 1.”

After passing 15,000, I call the cabin.

“Cadance speaking.”

“We’re out of 15,000. Go ahead and do the final check. As soon as we drop below 10,000, everyone’s gotta be seated. Call me when everything’s secure.”

“Got it. Cabin lights are on.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, as we begin our final descent into Sacramento, please at this time check in your general area for any trash or other items. Please return your chair backs and tray tables to the full upright and locked position. Principal Cadance will be passing through twice to pick up any remaining service items. We’ll be landing shortly. Thank you.”

A few minutes after I’ve briefed the approach, I arm the speed brakes and set airspeed to 200.

“Flight deck, go ahead.”

“Everyone is seated, all belts are secure, and the trash has been collected.

Below 10,000, speed below 250 knots.

“Thank you. Over and out.”

“Shadowbolt 1, IFR flight plan is closed. Understand Mather in sight.”

“Affirm, Shadowbolt 1.”

“Shadowbolt 1, roger. Do you still want the ILS or did you want a visual?”

“We’d like the ILS via COLOM. Proceeding to COLOM via AUDIO.”

“Shadowbolt 1, approved as requested. Retain squawk code for flight following. No additional traffic observed at Mather. No landing information available for Mather. Switch to advisory, good night!”

“As requested, squawk to the ground, thanks for the help tonight, Shadowbolt 1.”

“You’re welcome!”

“Mather traffic, Shadowbolt 1, approaching AUDIO, proceeding inbound ILS 22L via COLOM, Mather.”

No responses on frequency. Approaching AUDIO, speed 180, flaps 5.

The area I’m flying over and most of the surrounding area has noise abatement, since it’s a suburban residential neighborhood. As such, no reverse thrust, and a slower approach speed. Even though we have an 11,000 foot runway, I’ll use flaps 40.

Turn right to intercept COLOM.

Flaps 10. Speed to 160.

Established on approach path. Flaps 15. “Mather traffic, Shadowbolt 1, COLOM, inbound ILS 22L.”

Glide slope intercepted. Lower landing gear. Flaps 25. Speed to 140.

“2,500.” Flaps 30.

Flaps 40 as the GPWS calls out, “1,000.”

“Mather traffic, Shadowbolt 1, 7 mile final 22L.”

500.

“Autopilot disengage.”

Hand fly to touchdown. Touchdown at 130.

50.

40.

30.

20.

10.

Touchdown. Spoilers up, brakes on, no reverse thrust.

30 knots, brakes off.

Exit at F, F A to Superior.

“On behalf of your Southern California based pilot, we’d like to welcome you home to Sacramento Mather Field. Current local time is 2:24 am, the weather a dry 59°, calm winds and clear skies. For your continued comfort and safety, please wait until the aircraft has come to a complete stop, the seat belt sign has been turned off, and I have specifically given the all clear. Our revised procedure is due to our late arrival, so please wait for my signal and all three conditions have been met. It has been an absolute pleasure serving you today, and I hope that this event was as much of a success as we all had hoped. Thank you so much again for your patronage, welcome home to Sacramento.”

Flaps up, landing, strobes, wing/pulse lights off. APU on. APU generator on.

Parked at the building’s closest spot with a comfortable margin of wingtip clearance. Shut down.

Seatbelt sign off.

Cabin lights on.

“Disarm left front main. Standby for stairs.”

L1 disarmed, opened.

The aircraft’s own air stair is then released from its storage bay and deployed. Secure against the ground and the guardrails set, I get on the horn and announce.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience. You are now free to deplane and follow me to the terminal building. Have a wonderful spring break, and don’t forget to spring forward on Saturday Night.”

With that, I head down the stairs and let a small line form behind me. I enter the code for the building, given to me before I left, and giving a wave to the security camera, I open the door and let the students and faculty in. Only the uncontrolled lights remain on, which provide enough light to guide them from the plane side to the ground side, where buses are waiting for them.

After I run back to the plane and make sure no one is stowing away, I find Cadance so I can officially close out the tab.

“Thank you so much for doing this.” She says as she opens her arms.

Accepting her embrace, I reply, “the pleasure was all mine. Felt really nice to return to Hawaii with a clientele.

I should have a statement ready by the next business day. I’ll send it to the email you provided me.”

“Actually, if it’s school related, can you send it to my school email? Let me send it to you right now.”

“Sure.”

*Cadance - message*

“MiAmore.Cadenza@CrystalPrepAcademy.org”

“Got it. Thank you.”

“Do you want to spend the night here?”

“Nah. I’m an hour’s hop away from home.”

“Okay then. Travel safe. Thanks again for doing this.”

“My pleasure. Good night.”