Note: Although this is a short story about my days in the military, it is not a “war story” as that term is generally used. There is nothing in it about heroism, or hand-to-hand combat, or even combat. It’s just a slice of life not unlike any other except that it occurred in a locale that is far away involving people who met and departed in a moment of time leaving separate memories never to be repeated. It was like ships passing in the night, as the poet is wont to say.
It was a bitter cold day in January 1969 in Ohio. I paused for a moment while pulling my 215 pound electronic device on its dolly through the airport. Before resuming I noticed with some amusement that my cargo was parked directly under an ad for a Bulova watch that proclaimed “world’s most accurate timepiece.” My device was an atomic clock about 30,000 times more accurate than any watch.
I was on my way to several stops in South America, then on to Easter Island. I anticipated that the Easter Island body figures, or moai, would be the highlight of the trip. To my surprise they were surpassed in excitement by both the landing and the take-off from the landing strip at Rapa Nui airport.
We departed Santiago, Chile in a US Air Force C-141, a relatively new 4-engine jet cargo plane, and headed for that tiny island 2500 miles due west. Up front in the cockpit were the standard crew plus one special passenger, the Chief of Staff of the Chilean Air Force. Although the clock usually made us the center of attention, on this leg we were completely ignored. We were just so much weight. The crew were focused on showing the top Chilean aviator just how wonderful this big silver plane was. And why not? A large jet plane had never landed on Easter Island. We were to be the first, and the Chief of Staff no doubt had photographers and reporters ready to record his grand arrival. That gave me about 5 hours in which to catch a little shut eye.
Our aircraft commander apparently was a frustrated fighter pilot who just could not resist showing his flying skills to observers on the ground and to a few in the air. I had also heard that the runway on the island was very short, and it was laid out ocean-to-ocean, hence the reluctance of anyone to dare try to land a large jet plane there. Some said it was impossible. They obviously did not tell our pilot about such limitations.
As we approached the airfield, I noticed that we were flying at a very low altitude and we were flying much faster than any landing I had ever experienced. We were barely off the water and the plane was our only protection from getting wet. I wondered if we were below the altitude of the runway! And, my god, we must have been doing 400 mph! Suddenly I saw land and I was right. We couldn't possibly land at this speed. There was a sudden blur of people near the runway as the aircraft pulled up into a vertical climb. In just a few seconds we were back up to an altitude of several thousand feet. Hell, we had just made a high speed touch-and-go to the delight of those on the ground to say nothing of us inside the plane.
But we were not finished. The highest part of the island was the inactive volcano, Rano Kao, that had risen up from the ocean floor at some time in the distant past. It occupied the northwest corner of the island. On the side nearest the water it rose to a height of several hundred feet. It was the perfect place to hide this speeding bird from view by those who were trying to follow us by eyesight.
Our intrepid pilot circled low and came in again from the east. Again, we screamed down the runway at a blistering speed, and once more, we shot straight up in a vertical climb the likes of which would have given Top Gun aviators a thrill. A quick bank and duck and we were behind the volcano again our wing tip seemingly inches from the sheer wall that fell straight down to the ocean. We made about six passes before we finally landed.
There were about 10 passengers along with me. Nearly all were island natives returning home from their stay in Chile. Most were now sick, scared, weary or all three. I thoroughly enjoyed being a part of this big bird being put to its landing and takeoff tests. The navigator was a young lieutenant who was white as a sheet. He refused to look at or talk to anyone as he disembarked.
My whirlwind tour of the island was over in two or three hours. It was hot, smelly with tons of excrement from horses and sheep, intermingled with billions of flies. I was too uncomfortable for long conversations.
The crew and I left the next day. I can’t speak for any others. We repeated our vertical takeoffs, hide-and-seek tactics behind the volcano, and touch-and-go flight patterns down the runway for an hour or so before heading back to Santiago. When we landed we managed to cut some tires on landing, thus we got “stranded” near the world’s best kept secret location—featuring blue waters, glistening white beaches, bevies of exotic beauties in bikinis, and margueritas and such. I stopped telling this tale years ago because too many cargo pilots simply did not believe me. Some pilots are small thinkers.
Did I mention US Air Forces fighter pilots are the best?...
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*My apologies to anyone expecting 24 hour whirlwind tours complete with vertical takeoffs today. I understand that Easter Island now has hotels, and restaurants, and other mundane things to keep you occupied.
Video of a large jet plane landing at Easter Island:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ui9uuu45rMg
Video from atop the Rano Kao volcano on Easter Island:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d5wFWkY3DK4
Video of the moai figure carvings and their history: http://www.today.com/video/today/9955569#9955569
I'm surprised that the young pilot wasn't reprimanded for his hijinks showing off to the Chilean Chief of Staff. But then, it probably wasn't reported to command. I know that you didn't. I'm not sure about the atomic clock. Did you deliver it, or was it just a tool you used as part of your military assignment?
Got me thinking about several hairy landings that I experienced during my brief time flying. Thankfully, none of those were because of a pilot showing off. They were pilots doing a great job under trying circumstances.
In the summer of 1979 I had an opportunity to join an educational group on a cheap tour to South America and Easter Island. For some reason I passed it up. Based on your description of the island, I probably would've been disappointed.
How to See Easter Island in 24 Hours or Less*
