A Special Delivery.

By night, the modern flight deck can be a serene place. Gone are the continual position reports on the scratchy HF frequencies and straining to hear the latest weather reports by the same scratchy means. Now, satellites beam the data to the myriad aircraft crossing the globe and the ground stations that are tracking their progress. Those HF frequencies loiter silently in the background as a second line of communication.

The glow of the instrument panel dimly illuminates the faces of the crew and the whisper of near-supersonic airflow slips past the windscreen is the only sound. As the equator grows closer, the cloud tops grow taller. Between the weather “painted” by our radar and the towering cumulus lit by lightning and moonlight, we weave a path well clear of any disturbance.

In the cabin, darkness prevails. The majority of the passengers are sound asleep, unaware of nature’s light show outside. Among their number is my wife.

In the distant past, in a life before kids, we would frequently accompany the other on our flights. My wife would take me to London and Singapore, while I would take her to Australian ports. With our children grown, self sufficient and able to manage the household, the opportunity to travel from time to time are returning. And so it was recently as she travelled with me to Dallas.

It is difficult to overstate what a privilege it is to share such journeys. We have long held the belief that life is about experiences rather than possessions and travelling together provides us with such opportunities. Memories are forever.

The pandemic grounded us for more than 400 days and then my surgery dealt a similar blow. There is a lot of lost time but as the equator slips beneath us I am reminded of all that lies ahead – not what has past.

When the sun rises we will be nearing Mexico and closing in on Dallas. It’s been said before – it’s a fortunate life.