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Posted on May 28, 2012
A small island-hopper plane took off from the Saint Maarten airport. It offered one seat on each side of the aisle, a cabin not tall enough to stand up in, and no flight attendant. A white Igloo cooler filled with soft drinks was secured in the cabin for those thirsty enough to dare unbuckle in flight.
As the plane approached the neighboring island, it began its descent. Without a cockpit door, Noah and Robin held onto each other tightly as they watched the pilots fly the small aircraft downward at a steep 45-degree angle just above the treetops of the mountainous terrain. Noah wondered where the horizon had gone as the runway — growing ever so large by the second — filled the entire forward view through the front windshield. At the last possible moment, the plane leveled off and touched down. As the plane raced down the short runway, the brakes were applied, and the plane started slowing down, coming to a stop at the very end, where two topless women walked in front of the plane on a white sand beach.
“Bienvenue à Saint-Barth,” the pilot announced proudly as the plane veered right, heading toward the small terminal. “Welcome to Saint Barts !”
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