PAC
José Zubizarreta (*)
| "How I can climb that mountain better? Go up, and do not ask how! " F. Nietzche little more than two decades reached last economic boom that allowed many entrepreneurs in our country regardless of the United States a relatively high number of aircraft for private use. | planes flying came to Paraguay and the task of leading from the place where manufacturing, Wichita, Kansas-aviation hub in the world, to Asuncion, in the heart of South America, was, during those years, part of the contents of my vida considerablemente valiosa para mi por satisfacer, en cierta medida, una poderosa disposición de mi espíritu inclinado a la aventura de exploraciones y descubrimientos. El encanto de la tarea era vivido anticipadamente en la planificación previa del vuelo, cuando rodeado de cartas geográficas, reglas, computadores aéreos y libros de información aeronáutica, llenaba la planilla de vuelo con los preciosos datos requeridos para navegar sin sorpresas desagradables. Sin duda el trabajo de elaborarla constituía un anticipo adicional del deleite prometido en el vuelo mismo. Cuando la ruta era virgen y desconocida, la planilla jalonaba los puntos del itinerario con nombres que ocultaban una misteriosa and really arcane, full of seductive promises, denials and sometimes not always, filled with romantic overtones, as in the case of this lonely, secluded small town in southeastern Venezuela, whose name - "La Divina Pastora" - reminiscent of what was, indeed, a pagan goddess, nymph may Eneiras, - Galatea, perhaps? - who incarnated in mortal body beautiful figure wandering through those places just as beautiful to the silent admiration of those who showed. came to boast a little invention of certain new details of my return flight, which greatly facilitated the control of navigation and I thought I saw this feeling justified undoubtedly childish, when after having left forgotten in the flight plan room Airport Saint Croix in the Caribbean in the next trip I was surprised to find it in the same place where had left with the honor of seeing, rather than being thrown away, a small sign attached to it asking anyone to move from his place in case the pilot had forgotten to pass that way again. I dared not plausible to interpret this gesture of courtesy, as well as recognition of the value of their content. |
The usual flight plans, prolonged the journey along the coast to the capital of Chile across the Andes by the pass called "Cristo Redentor" where the mountains are close and enables you to fly at lower altitudes. 
But this diversion
security-misleading-that almost all the drivers used, added thousands of miles and three days to the return trip. I never agreed to support this unnecessary and unreasonable extension of the trip. After crossing several times the range at the height of Antofagasta, a city in northern Chile, the final experience, incredible but true-it can not find anything to eat, stay at the best hotel in the city during the Marxist government of Salvador Allende (whom his ignorance led to believe that the production and distribution of wealth are two processes completely unrelated to each other) I found after a fast of more than 24 hours, not to go through Chile. Before abandon the path of the Pacific coast, the study of geographical maps I discovered a possible third variant of it: Crossing the Andes by the passage of Charaña, plus the north, on the border Bolivia to Chile. When starting from Arequipa, a city in Peru, reached step Charaña Pacific that leads to Bolivia, I was on the threshold pornto in the Bolivian highlands. Crossed the first barrier of mountains, a small modification of course my plane headed to Santa Cruz de la Sierra, on the other side of the mountains in the east and normal target the penultimate leg of the trip. But this diversion But soon I noticed that I was offered another shortest path that can save a travel day. Next to cross the passage, with the usual course in the magnetic compass, always directed my gaze to the right to look through the clear air, which could see of extensive open spaces interrupted by mountain ranges and also spread on the landscape, the shortest route to Asuncion.
I intend to make a nonstop flight from Arequipa to patiently Assumption was an idea developed through my previous flying experiences Andes. The maturation of the project began with the study of geographical maps of the region, with accidents and details of his journey. The viability of the project was tested in the postage section of the western mountain barrier, used several times in previous flights to Santa Cruz. Moreover, the mapping information gathered indicated that exceeded the highlands, the peaks belonging to the eastern wall in the new course, were not higher than before and with a lightweight airplane fuel.
What the letter could not anticipate was the incredible aircraft roughness of the latter part of journey on the mountain that I can only define as debris daunting colossal monstrous dimensions.
Finally, in all this process of assimilation of knowledge on the new route, I found nothing to make the project unfeasible to conclude thinking it would all depend on me and the behavior of the aircraft and, at least with respect to him, nobody would think that it would be great. What the letter could not anticipate was the incredible aircraft roughness of the latter part of journey on the mountain that I can only define as debris daunting colossal monstrous dimensions.
The project could be regarded as an undertaking that would involve certainly a risk, but controlled, by providing the careful planning and calculation, taken before and during the flight, the largest possible degree of safety. Unfortunately, bureaucracy is responsible for modifying aircraft in significant negative measure, expected rates and safety risks of the project.
had to cross the Andes by the widest part of your entire journey, even if they considered all the mountain ranges under different names extend along the entire west coast of the Americas from Alaska to Tierra del Fuego and cross it over inhospitable mountainous terrain with a lot of tension, good dose of anxiety and very attentive to the proper functioning of the oxygen delivery system.
However, The real danger would be confined to two climactic moments in which the operation of aircraft engine would make the difference between life and death of the pilot, this time elapse during the flyby of the eastern and western massifs of the range and its immediate adjacencies , which limit both sides of the high Bolivian plateau. It was very acceptable
the time of day according to my calculations would be over the Andes and the hour of my arrival in Asuncion. But calculations often fail for reasons impossible to predict.
There was also in favor of the project, economic rationale to some extent justified professionally: a direct flight nonstop represented thousands of miles, hundreds of gallons of fuel, aviation taxes, hotel bills and hours, many hours of airplane flight saved.
When representatives in Paraguay Cessna aircraft offered me the job of driving one of its aircraft equipped with a 300 HP engine, I realized that the opportunity arose expected. It was a 300 Agwagon
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of excellent quality as all of the brand, a proven engine with fuel injection, immune to the likelihood of icing in the carburetor, removed by the injection system, one of those marvels of mechanical craftsmanship of this era of aviation that other, very rarely fail and stop.
However, I rejoice to review the navigational equipment on board. Incredibly, as described in the above anecdote was reduced to a solitary magnetic compass. For reasons of economy, owners had become devoid of any instrument that was not essential to the work of fumigating the crops. Just a "turn and bank" to survive, with difficulty, between clouds, the standard engine instruments, a speedometer and a sensitive altimeter.
is, believe it or not, no radio communication or navigation, electricity on board radio (or VOR or ADF). Almost on the roof of the cabin, the magnetic compass and ancient was the only instrument to reach the destination. Was limited to the art of reckoning, as time permits. I'm not afraid of the challenge and was not the first time he had driven sprayers instrumental Franciscan poverty with geographical maps and a computer on board circular.
I accepted the offer and after nearly two months of waiting for receive the aircraft at the factory, I left Wichita on a Thursday at eight in the morning to arrive the same day at Brownsville, Texas, on the banks of the Rio Grande border with Mexico where I spent the night. Then, I could not imagine that this delay in delivery of the plane-an apparently unrelated to the project, would affect in a very dangerous implementation.
The next day I came to San Jose to Panama on Saturday, and Sunday at Talara, a city in northern Peru near the border with Ecuador. On Monday, September 29, 1966, in the afternoon, met the end of the fifth day of flight. Arequipa swiftly approached me, the old city of the Indian Mayta today Peru's second largest, lying on the western foothills of the Andes, more than 8,400 feet high and well away from the border with Chile.
flew over mountainous terrain. I was away from the sea before sighting to Pisco, rising to 9,500 feet to get around the vast banks of low clouds over the region was always the port of San Juan. The course of my defeat me away from the coast to fly on high ground belonging to the Andean foothills that parallel and close to the high snowy peaks, is were free of clouds. The choice of course also helped to shorten the road.
To my right, endless chain, the mountains hide their less elevated peaks in a compact cushion of clouds that stretched beyond the sea coast. To my left, the mountains rose gradually to the line of mountains that formed the western edge of the ridge top. Two snow-capped volcanoes off the perpetual-Chachatni of 20,000 feet and 19,000 feet, Mitzi's signaled the end of the day for that day. Close to them, should find the city of Arequipa. There
been many snowy peaks to 90 degrees in my direction, but the magnetic compass and computer warn air concurred that none of them could be the one he wanted. Very hazy afternoon faded any hope of watching from afar. The average speed of this stage of the flight was very high, thanks to a tailwind component of 22 knots. However, I was impatient, hoping to find against the problem of the calculations behind any turn in the road, clear references in the letter showed near Arequipa.
Finding none, my impatience back to the computer requires some justification for air a vague unease that is not based on objective data to continually pick up and examine. Repeat the calculations for different paths and none of them contradicts the other. All blend harmoniously to persuade me that I will not find surprises in the navigation I do. The computer tells me to get to Arequipa at 17:45 hours, before nightfall. Anxiety is only due to the fact that the magnetic compass is not "seized" at destination as it is a VOR or ADF. With only a compass, I can confuse the references flying over the rugged mountain range and lose precious time getting into dead ends. The
sea \u200b\u200band airports in the sea, unknown to me, they are prohibited by a kind of psychological barrier that translates into real reluctance to making choices that mean away from my destination, not meeting my flight plan to fly over clouds hidden hills, for a fall - God knows how far away the coast! - looking for an airport whose location could only estimate away from precision. I cross slopes
sharp and from time to time as milestones that tried to identify the geographical map, flight impressive gorges with streams of water, that on his way to the sea, disappear beneath the clouds. I remain clinging to my course, until finally at 17:25 hours, in the distance of my address, I think see something that stands out in the gray outline. It may be a cloud on a whim or the snowy summit of a volcano, but the direction shown encouraging my hope to be seeing, far away, the end of my way.
later, all doubt vanishes. Visible, clearly outlined on the horizon, the radio beacon Chachatni Arequipa volcano, turn the nose of my plane to his imposing figure. I cover rapidly the last few miles that separate me from the city on the desert around the airport, the green light comes on in the control tower and Cessna Zulu-Pope-Pope-Fotxtrot-Delta (ZP-PFD) lands on three points on a track that is more than 8,400 feet above the sea level.
I met a stage of nearly a thousand nautical miles at eight hours and 15 minutes. The average of almost 120 knots was not bad for an aircraft designed to spray agricultural fields. It was the first time I went to Arequipa. I knew and liked, not only by the beauty of the frame around it by the colonial flavor of the city and the courteous and friendly disposition of its people. I had always regretted leave after the first night!.
The pure air of the mountains and isolation that encourages toilet seem preserves Arequipa less correct certain customs prevailing in other coastal cities. Customs officers do their job without subjecting the pilot to the constraints common to other airports in the country, where whatever the time of arrival of the plane, never will be within the hours in which services are free.
hotel On the way to watch through the windows of the taxi the high peaks of the mountains without my silent question get a response. I go to bed early, but in spite of tiredness I can not sleep. The commitment-fly a route unknown and potentially dangerous, it makes me feel "at chapel." My determination was so strong that it overrides the intrusion of psychological defenses able to find "reasons" to avoid commitment.
But not only self-preservation known scams. Sometimes when stress becomes annoying, you can fool the conservative forces of the personality promising to "reopen the case" to reconsider a decision to be known, in the last term has been irrevocably taken ... "In Charaña see." .. With this transaction consoling thought I sleep at a stretch until morning next.
At seven o'clock that day, my plane rolls slowly toward the distant head of the single runway airport in Arequipa. I have complied with all requirements of an international flight and weather information collected available. Except for La Paz, where visibility is reduced, queen good time in the Bolivian Altiplano although conditions are not optimal. Some clusters scattered sure I predict turbulence and rising to hasten the day. In Santa Cruz, bad weather, with overcast ceiling of 140 feet and 3 / 8 cumulus nimbus of dangerous higher up. Yacuiba, close to my route in the Argentine Chaco and is best presented south wind blows and in eastern Bolivia, which makes me fear accumulation of clouds against the eastern massif's highest mountain. I do not consider Yacuiba Tarija or as safe alternatives.
However, the autonomy of my plane is so big that I will fly any extension cloudy and the picture is not such stops my plane can not handle. In tanks, took over 170 gallons of fuel, container fumigation material become auxiliary tank, whose contents I can transfer, with the help of an electric pump Bendix, the right wing tank of the aircraft. This gives me a certain autonomy 14 hours of flight. I carry a spare pump and I can change it in case of an unlikely fuel supply interruption auxiliary tank. If you do not forget to keep constantly filled the tank right, I'll always available to me almost three hours of battery life for any alternate decision. Finally, Asunción, the weather is good and firm.
After performing the standard procedure of control of aircraft systems, face the distant tower of the airport in demand for the green light to enter the track and off. With surprise, I see flashing red light warning that orders immobility. Time passes and the signal varies. As the airport is desert and the sky without planes, I suspect that the control tower will tell me I must return to the central platform of the airport, even though that message is transmitted white light.
I return to retrace the lengthy "taxiway" filled with foreboding, fearing that some "fluff" bureaucratic planning spoil most important pillar of which is compliance with the schedules. My fears are confirmed. What had happened?. The central aviation authority of Lima, had revoked the authorization granted by the control from Arequipa to realize that the previous day on my arrival to Peru, had beaten the deadline by which permitted the overflight of my aircraft on Peruvian territory. So things are in America!.
continued ....
(*) Civil Aviation Pilot. This story was provided by the former President of TAM-Mercosur PAC Miguel Candia.
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