The Plot Thickens

Day two of the trip from hell started out normally, with a planned flight from Andrews AFB to a nearby Army base for a cargo upload and an aerial refueling en route to Germany. However, the plan quickly changed; our tanker cancelled, leaving us with a fuel stop in eastern Canada. Since weather was a factor at our usual Canadian airfields, we would stop in Halifax, the largest city in Canada's Atlantic provinces. It would be a long day, but nothing out of the ordinary.

Our takeoff from the DC area went smoothly, but we soon ran into thunderstorms as we headed south. A line of storms faltered just offshore in Virginia and across the Carolinas, threatening our approach and landing at our destination. However, we easily made it in without any of the previous night’s headaches and proceeded to upload our cargo.

It was night by the time we took off and flew northward along the eastern seaboard sleeping beneath us. Much of the East Coast was socked in by a layer of thick clouds, but the glow of the major cities illuminated the clouds from below. After we leveled off, we checked the weather for Halifax, the only destination in Canada’s eastern provinces that was forecast to be VFR.

However, once we began our descent, the weather began to change for the worse. It was still clear – with nearly unrestricted visibility – but a ground fog quickly formed that reduced visibility at the airport to Category III ILS conditions – zero ceiling and zero visibility - flown with an autoland capability. The C-17 is capable of flying an ILS to Cat II conditions – down to approximately 100’ ceiling and 400 meters visibility – but does not have the ability to autoland as required by a Cat III approach. We were out of luck.

We established a holding pattern several thousand feet over the airport while we checked on viable alternates. As we circled, we could see the sparkling city lights of Halifax and the resplendent suspension bridge spanning the glittering nighttime harbor. We could even see the runway lights burning brightly through the ground fog. It was so close, yet so far away. Even if we had tried to fly the approach to land, we’d see the runway until maybe a hundred feet above it, but then we’d be flying blind precariously close to terra firma.

Our planned alternate was another Canadian airport far to the north, but we found a closer airport back the way we’d already flown – Bangor, Maine – a short 45 minutes away. So we climbed up to altitude and flew back to the US. A short approach and landing later, we were on the ground and watched the sky turn pink as we refueled the aircraft. Our already long duty day had just turned a little bit longer.

It still wasn’t the trip from hell, but it was already a more challenging mission than most, given two days of weather woes. As we set out again over the Atlantic Ocean, our spirits were still high, but we could not imagine the immense challenges that awaited us over the next ten days.