The fear of flying - aviophobia - is one of the most common phobias. Making the flight as stress free as possible for the reluctant flyer is probably the most important factor. First, I try to schedule a non-stop trip if possible. This may cost a little more in some cases, but limiting the number of take offs and landings seems to help. Second, I try to avoid booking us on small planes, or airlines not subject to FAA regulations. Third, and the hardest tip for me to follow is that in planning the cruise vacation, I don't talk about the flights. It is better for him to be surprised, especially if I have broken one of the first 2 rules. At first I thought discussing an upcoming trip would make it easier, but it only seems to intensify the dread he feels. Finally, on the day of the trip, I allow plenty of time at home to get to the airport, and plenty of time between flights if we do have to make connections. For cruising, this often means getting to the embarkation port at least a day before your cruise. This is probably the most important factor to alleviate stress. Sprinting to catch a flight while dragging carry-on luggage is not good for anyone, no matter how many times you fly!
We've been very lucky on our flights together, with no serious storms or emergencies. I travel a lot via airplane on business, and whenever I have a "bad" flight, I am always thankful that Ronnie was not along with me. I also never talk about them when I get home. However, when traveling as a couple, there have been a few times I was concerned that I would have to leave him at home or that he might not do the return flight. The first was on a trip to the Caribbean. We were meeting a Windjammer ship, the Flying Cloud, at the harbor in Road Town on Tortola in the British Virgin Islands (BVI).
We left home early for the airport (rule number 4). We flew nonstop (rule number 1) to San Juan on a big jet (rule number 2), but jets don't land on Tortola. Therefore, we had to catch a small American Airlines (rule number 2) plane for the short hop over to the BVI. I had mumbled this fact to Ronnie while planning the trip, but hadn't elaborated on it (rule number 3). One of those summer afternoon thunderstorms delayed the flight for over an hour. We waited. And waited. We didn't have to worry about missing the boat, because we had planned to stay at Guana Island near Tortola for 3 days before we sailed (rule number 4). The palm trees outside the windows continued to bend over in the fierce wind.
Finally, they called our flight. We went outside the terminal for the short walk to the plane. The wind seemed to briefly intensify, as if to let us know the dangers ahead. Two women in front of us in line looked at each other. The first woman said to the other, "Let's wait and go tomorrow." They turned and left. I looked at Ronnie, and he was as white as one of the Windjammer's sails. He was looking at the plane. Guess I hadn't mumbled loud enough all of those months. I started thinking of taking a boat to Tortola, or spending the night in San Juan. He looked at me and growled, "isn't that the kind of plane that just crashed in Georgia last week?" Before I had a chance to answer, he put his head down, and pushed ahead towards the plane. We had no trouble finding our seats. I joked, "Well, every seat is a window AND an aisle", but he didn't laugh.
Miraculously, the flight was much smoother than anticipated. As we approached Tortola, I could see the runway ending right at a cliff dropping off into the surf. I'll never forget Ronnie's comment, "I can see fish down there", as we skimmed low across the surface of the Caribbean. Thankfully, this distraction kept him from noticing that the runway looked shorter than our driveway back home. I held my breath as we made a perfect landing on the runway. And we lived happily ever after until we had to start home. . .
