Flying with the Rich and Famous: True Stories from the Flight Attendant who flew with them (3 page)

By the way, we go through emergency training just like the airlines. Some of our training is more intense than the airlines
and some is simpler; it really depends on the company but we can sure as heck save your life if we have to. I had one chief pilot that chartered a boat in Newport Beach harbor. We had to do a mock ditching (landing in water) in the freezing cold water. We had some crazy guy from some survival company that made us jump over the side of the boat. Then we had to use all our training to get back to the boat – like it was a raft. That was one of the worst days of my life - it was so cold that all my blood had gone to my organs leaving my arms and legs useless. I had to take off my jeans and throw them over my head to “catch” air in the legs and then tie the legs in a knot, creating a flotation device. That was so damn difficult, trying to tie the knot before the air escaped out of the legs. I think it took me more than twenty times to do it properly, so my jeans actually allowed me to float upon them, but it did work. Then he made me swim back to the boat even though I had floated away from it, way far away from it, remember I had no use of my arms and legs. I don’t really know
how I got back to the boat. I hated my chief pilot that day. I didn’t talk to him the entire way back to the marina. And he just kept laughing; they were all laughing at me. I did not think it was funny, not in the least. Actually, I don’t think I talked to him for a week. But, now you all know how to survive in the water with a pair of jeans!

Some companies carry really expensive equipment onboard that will relay a passenger’s medical issues (once I hook you up to it) to an emergency doctor on the ground. The doctor can see what the passenger looks like and read all the vitals. He or she can tell me what the passenger needs to stay alive until we can land. In all my years of flying, I have never had any major medical or emergency issues—knock on wood! The worst thing that ever happened to me was running out of vodka on the way to Europe! But as luck would have it (depending on how you look at this), we had a minor mechanical issue and had to temporarily land in New York. I immediately and secretly tipped a ramper to
go and get me vodka…whew.

Although, as far as close calls, once on Regent Air, four Wall Street stockbrokers shared a stateroom. They were all drinking red wine and chatting. It was a quiet, dark night and I remember hearing idle conversation and the hum of the engines. Everything was status quo and then bam! Out of nowhere, we hit a wind shear and dropped about 1,000 feet in a nanosecond. Just like that. It was like God stepped on us, and then immediately realized he was stepping on us and removed his foot.

We went straight down, then straight up, it felt like the floor had fallen out beneath my feet. I happened to be walking in front of the stockbroker’s stateroom when this happened. I flew straight up out of my shoes as did the wine right out of the stockbrokers’ goblets; then I came right back down as did the wine in the glasses. I was stunned - the stockbrokers were pale. Then all four of them immediately pushed their wine glasses to me to pick up for them. Well gee, I thought to myself
“yes, I’m
ok, thank you for your concern!”

A day in the life of a private jet passenger might go something like this. You ascend the stairs, and I settle you into a seat of your choice. (If you’re not the chief passenger, you best be going to the back of the bus. He who pays the bills gets his choice of the frills!) I begin by bringing you a glass of sparkling champagne or the beverage of your choice, served on a shiny silver tray – I usually have a sprig of mint and/or a small flower on my silver tray as well. I then bring you a superior selection of newspapers and magazines and offer a cozy blanket and pillow, sometimes even a cashmere sweater and slippers. Usually, I have a boarding snack basket or fruit bowl set up on the credenza for you to peruse while waiting for everyone else to board. I also have “boarding music” playing - that choice depends on who I’m flying and where we are going.

After we are in the air, the full meal service starts. I pull out your table and set it up with fine linens and silverware. I pour
wine into your glass, which will never go empty, and serve you course after course of mouth-watering cuisine. The meal service might last hours and include up to six courses. After all, you’ve no place to go. I might start with a unique appetizer, then a crisp salad or homemade soup, perfectly warmed bread and butter, your favorite entrée cooked exactly the way you like it, with vegetables of the ideal crunch. Finally, of course, a decadent dessert served with premium alcohols and gourmet coffee.

I really love to serve dessert and most of my passengers enjoy it on their flights. I mean, you’re on a private jet—who cares about calories right now? I have a homemade secret recipe for oatmeal chocolate chip cookies that I bake onboard. I will make the batter at home then bake them in-flight. I also order one hundred percent pure vanilla ice cream from the caterer which is brought to me on dry ice. (Dry ice is a hazardous material but in small amounts is fine, as it dissipates anyway) After I bake the cookies, I make an ice cream cookie sandwich with the vanilla
ice cream – but you have to be very careful on timing. If you take the ice cream off the dry ice too soon it will be hard as a rock and break a tooth. Too late and it will melt all over and make a gooey mess. Sometimes, I will roll the ice cream sandwiches in mini chocolate chips. Many a pilot has coveted these cookies, making every burn mark on my right hand and arm worth it. It’s always fun having your arm in the four hundred degree temperature oven and then hitting turbulence - essentially, these airplanes are two-ton, forty million dollar, five hundred miles-per-hour Easy-Bake ovens!

Another one of my favorite desserts to prepare is hot fudge sundaes. The ice cream is once again packed with dry ice, and I purchase all the condiments before departure. When you receive a loaded hot fudge sundae on an airplane in the middle of an eight-hour flight, in the middle of a dark ocean, it’s impossible not to take thorough pleasure in every bite. Just ask the pilots.

If we’re in a foreign city, I like to serve food that’s indigenous to the area. For example, in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, I immediately think stone crab claws; in New England, definitely clam chowder and lobster. In the South, barbeque is a must. I do a lot of cold seafood platters because everyone loves them, and a chicken caesar salad is usually a perfectly acceptable choice for lunch.

There are times, especially on long trips—say over the center of the Pacific Ocean in the middle of a dark night—when someone might be craving a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a glass of milk. Or maybe in their inner time zone when its morning and they want breakfast. I have done fried eggs, bacon, and toast many times after the passengers have awakened from a long sleep, and we still have a way to go. I’ve also prepared and grilled tuna melts for pilots who were longing for comfort food and home.

Some passengers like to have their catering from one of
their favorite restaurants, so I will order and pick it up on my way to the airport. One of my favorite owners loved king crab legs from a famous seaside eatery, so I would arrange dinner from there often. One of my favorite pilots loved a salad dressing from an old, well-established Newport Beach restaurant, so I would always bring that with me when we flew together. I have been sent on missions for favorite meals from the most alluring establishments and famous restaurants that I couldn’t wait to see, and I have been sent on wild goose chases for items that were so hard to locate that I would pretend it was a scavenger hunt.

Some passengers bring something special with them. Sometimes it’s a person, like their personal chef—nothing like getting it your way! Wolfgang Puck designed all the cuisine for Regent Air, and I have had personal chefs prepare the food for a specific flight. Early in my career, one woman brought all these paper bags from a famous restaurant with her for lunch. She handed them to me and said “Please prepare our Steak tartare for
lunch.” Now I was all of twenty-something and grew up camping and flying in Sheila; I had
no
idea what Steak tartare was! I asked the pilots – they were completely useless. I didn’t have a clue what to do with all those condiments. Steak tartare is minced raw beef (superior quality beef) with onions, capers, a variety of spices, Worcester, and usually a raw egg (but in this case it was hard boiled) all rolled up together – or something like this, depending on where you’re getting it from. Since I had no idea, I served each condiment in individual ramekins. Well let’s just say, that woman was not too happy with me that day! I don’t think I ever flew when she was on board again, but I did fly her husband.

Occasionally, the owners or pilots will request the flight attendant purchase everything at a high-end grocery store and prepare it fresh onboard. There’s been some flack over this by the FAA as the flight attendants are not allowed to prepare food on a charter aircraft. Regardless, no matter where the food comes
from, before every departure I shop in my home city; staples are a necessity. Most dry goods are stocked on the airplane already with backup stored in the hangar. At the very minimum, I will purchase fresh-squeezed orange juice, half and half, milk, bread, lemons for water, limes for beer and cocktails, flowers, newspapers, magazines, and whatever else I deem necessary for the duration of the trip. Running out of something during the flight is not an option—it would be problematic to stop at 7-Eleven.

If you are flying for a foreign company, let’s say a Japanese company, then you must shop at a Japanese grocery store. Trying to translate the language so you can buy the appropriate videos, snacks and the periodicals can be very challenging. Trying to get a hold of those Japanese newspapers in Oklahoma is
almost
impossible. You must pre-arrange all of this before you leave on that trip. You cannot expect a business man from any culture to not have his favorite newspaper on his
own private jet, no matter where you are. Usually, they want three or five newspapers on the credenza when they walk in the jet – almost always, the newspapers are the very first thing they grab, even before they give me their suit coat. Many times, they don’t have time to read them on that particular flight, but they will take them to the hotel and read them there. As their flight attendant – you
best
be having their preferred newspapers!

There are exceptions, of course, to decent catering. An out-of-the-way airport in the middle of rural Arkansas or a small town in a foreign country can prove to be quite the challenge. These destinations require a flight attendant to plan and prepare ahead. Sometimes, one encounters language barriers and/or misunderstandings. I once ordered tuna-stuffed tomatoes from a handler (handlers sometimes replace FBOs, usually in foreign countries) in Taipei, Taiwan. I intended them to be prepared as entrees; however, when they were brought to the airplane, they were tuna-stuffed
cherry
tomatoes and not nearly enough to feed
all my people. As luck would have it, I had the easiest going passengers on that trip and I just added my own canned tuna and made tuna sandwiches for lunch – nobody cared – but it could have been a nightmare with other types of passengers. (Now you see why I bring staples – I needed the bread for the sandwiches!)

There have been plenty of times when I received catering at the aircraft, and it was just not worthy, especially for the price. I have pitched a fit or two and absolutely refused the food unless it was prepared to my standards. The caterers will call their kitchen in a panic and have the food remade to my liking, then drive back and pick it up. This doesn’t happen very often but when it does, it really freaks me out. Occasionally, the passengers will show up and I’ll be in the back receiving the replaced catering through the baggage door. This situation seriously unnerves me – I strongly dislike not being prepared in advance, especially in this career. But it can happen – sometimes the caterer is just late. Once again, late is not an option in this
business!

Many times, we’ll enter the United States or a foreign country at an airport where we can refuel. The pilots, depending on weather, fuel reserve, customs and immigration availability—and whether or not they need more Guinness from Ireland—ascertain this fuel stop. After flying all day from Europe back to the United States, the passengers might just want a cheeseburger. These entry cities and fuel stops are occasions when I have sent someone to McDonald’s for us. Hey, the rich and famous eat like everyone else and who doesn’t crave a Big Mac now and then?

At that time, most private jets did not have the capacity to fly from the West Coast to the Pacific Rim or Europe without a fuel stop. If going west, we would almost always stop in Anchorage, Alaska. If going east, we usually stopped at Bangor, Maine or Reykjavik, Iceland. Sometimes we spent the night, sometimes we changed pilots, sometimes all the crew changed and sometimes we’d bring on another pilot and keep going.
Although, now the newer aircraft can make it across both ponds without a fuel stop, depending on the route, winds, etc.

Anchorage is very accommodating to business aircraft, passengers, and crew, and they have outstanding catering. Of course, they’re making some serious money with the amount of fuel we purchase.

Once, we were taking off out of Anchorage heading for Japan. I had served a huge breakfast to everyone, as it’s a long flight across the Pacific. About a quarter of the way through the flight, breakfast began to hit everyone in the gut and the lavatory was being used frequently. The odor began lightly but escalated to an overwhelming stench. I tried to spray air freshener but you know how that is, it just smells like daffodils and daisies on a dairy farm. My chief passenger decided he could take it no longer and asked us to dump the lavatory.

We landed in some remote part of Russia. It was so unreal—the dilapidated buildings with only three walls, dirt and
gravel in between. The bland landscape, such pitiful nothingness, it looked like left over ruins from a long ago war, yet it was a usable fuel stop. It truly made me appreciate where I lived. Landing that airplane to dump the lavatory had to cost an immense amount of money, but I must admit it was worth it.