Wolfe’s Woofer: Mayday! Mayday!

Sunday, July 3rd, 2016

Dennis-Wolfe-Wolfes-Woofers“Boom!” was the sound of our plane bouncing in an air pocket.
“Help! Mayday! Mayday! Dis plane gon crash! Help!”
That was the sound of Juan Lopez, my traveling companion. He was seated next to the pilot who was knocked out cold and wedged into the pilot’s seat.
We were flying from Playa del Carmen, Mexico back to Chetumal in a little three-seater Mexican plane. I woke up to see the pilot crumpled up in his seat, out like a light.
“Dis pilot hit his head and he ain’t awake!” Juan yelled at me.
A heavily accented voice came over the radio saying, “We have heard your Mayday call. This is the control tower. Calm down and don’t worry about anything. We are going to explain how to land this plane step-by-step. First, sir. Do you speak Spanish?”
“Me? No. We in Mexico. I thought you was speaking Spanish.”
“Never mind. How high are you and what is your position?”
Johnny said, “I five foot six and I sitting right next to de pilot.”
“No! No!” the tower said. “What’s your altitude and location?
“I got a good attitude and I from Belmopan, Belize.”
“No, señor! I need to know how many feet you are off the ground and how is your plane in relation to your airport.”
“Counting me and Mr. Dennis and dis pilot we got six feets off the ground altogether and I don’ believe dis plane related to your airport.”
There was a long silence before the control tower came back on the radio.
“Sir, we need to know who is your next of kin.”

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