I sit and I wait.
It was a rush to get to the airport so that I could sit and wait.
It was a hassle at the check-in kiosk. I thought that the purpose of the kiosks was so that you didn’t have to wait in line. There was a line waiting for the kiosks. I also thought that the purpose of the kiosks was to free up the employees by allowing you to do it all yourself without the employee. There was an employee directing people in how to line up properly, one employee performing IT fixes on the kiosks that were not working properly, and two employees helping people at the kiosks. Maybe if they got rid of the kiosks and put these four people behind a standard check-in counter, there would be enough clerks helping passengers that there would be no line. What a novel idea. The instructions for using the kiosks told you to slide your passport or boarding pass into the machine face down when in reality, you need to hold it under a little red light underneath the slide portion of the machine. Another passenger had to show me this as the employees were all busy doing other things. After printing my checked luggage tag for my one checked bag, the instructions tell you that you are to put the luggage tag on the bag yourself, so that an employee did not need to do this. How? How do I get the paper off the adhesive part so that it will stick together? I had to have an employee do this anyway. Despite the hassles, I got my bag checked in and now I am off to find gate A27.
I go through the security check point. Both my carry on and my “personal item” are pulled aside for additional inspection. When this happened the first few times, I would get worried. Now it is almost a given. The bottle of sugar and the smoked sausages were suspect. I have to admit, who would be taking C and H pure cane sugar from Hawaii, back to Hawaii? Does C and H still exist? I know that they no longer grow sugar in Hawaii, but I thought C and H was based out of California. One of those things that make you go Hmmmm.
At the gate, I sit and I wait. Gate 27 and Gate 29 share the same seating area. I see a plane sitting at the end of the ramp for gate 27. It does not look very big. I hope that it is just my angle.
The people for the flight to Miami leaving from Gate 29 line up. The line extends past gate 27 and down the concourse. I wonder about social distancing. They get on their plane.
I sit and I wait. A mechanical voice calls for group 1 for my flight, and about 16 people go through the gate and down the ramp towards the plane. I do not hear them call for group 2, but the call for group 3 attracts 5 people to the gate door. A crowd of 15 to 20 people are standing in a semicircle about 15 feet away from the podium at the gate, waiting. The mechanical voice calls for group 4, and no one moves. These groups are assigned by the airlines when they creat the boarding passes. Surely, they know that there are no people in group 4. But we wait. Group 5 is called and 10 to 12 people go to the podium, scan their boarding passes, go thru the door, and head down the ramp towards the plane. The gate agent leaves the podium and goes into the jetway, closing the door behind her, leaving 4 people standing at the doorway. The group of people grows to around 25 or 30 and crowds closer to the gate door. We wait. A few minutes later, the gate agent returns and scans the boarding passes of 4 people who were waiting at the door. They enter the doorway and go down the ramp as the gate agent returns to her position behind the podium. We wait. She is furiously punching keys on the keyboard of her terminal and the mechanical voice says, “We would like to welcome group 6 to board American Airlines flight 663 to Kona.” Everyone presses forward and I get in line behind 9 or 10 other passengers. It is my turn, and I go to scan my boarding pass on my phone screen and the gate agent informs me that I also need a picture ID. Huh? What? I don’t remember doing that before. Whatever. I stand at the scanner as I put away my phone after scanning my boarding pass. I search for my ID. It is not in my wallet. I find it in my shirt pocket where I put it after printing my luggage tag. I show it to the gate agent and everyone behind me stands and waits. I go down the jetway, and straight on to the plane. It looks empty. I find my seat, and wait. The plane is about 1/3 full when they close the door and start the safety briefing.
The plane leaves the gate, taxi’s to the runway and immediately heads off down the runway! We are off! 6 hours and 27 minutes to Kona!
I sleep.
Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean, I slide up the window shade. The ocean stretches out for miles. There are a few clouds out on the horizon, but as I look down, all I see is water. I wonder what it would be like to be on a sailboat in the middle of all that water for three weeks. We approach the clouds. They look like cotton balls that have been spilled out onto the bathroom floor.
We fly between Maui and the Big Island as we approach Kona, and begin to descend as we fly along the coast of Hawai’i. The landing is soft and smooth and we taxi to the gate. I gather up my cell phone, my book, and stuff them into my backpack and head to the front of the plane. Kona does not have jetways. Getting on and off the planes, you must walk from the gate, across the tarmack to a mobile ramp that leads up to the dooor of the plane. The reverse is true for when you arrive. There are cones that direct passengers to the appropriate gate and don’t just wander around the tarmack. Today, there are a dozen people stationed among the cones “helping” the passengers stay within the boundaries of the cones. Once inside the gates, the terminals appear deserted. There are lanes identified to direct you to certain checkpoints. The first of which is to verify that you have registered on line with the Hawaii Department of Transportation and have received a bar code pattern for you and this trip. It is really quite simple, the form asks you a few questions about your health, and where you are staying and how they can track you – everything short of imbedding an RFID tag under your skin. I had tried to register a week before traveling, but you are supposed to do it within 24 hours so that the information about your health is current. I could not complete it because I was too early and didn’t remember to go back and complete it, so they had people there to assist travelers in completing the form. After getting the bar code, I needed to have it visible on my cell phone so I could show it to the person at the next check point 15 feet away, along with proof of my negative covid-19 test within 72 hours of traveling. I checked out and was free to go on my way.
I passed an area cordoned off with those metal barriers that look like bicycle racks where travelers who did not have proof of their negative test were sent for further processing. What that meant, I do not know.
I went out of the terminal and into the fresh air. The psychological difference was amazing. Inside, while passing through their gauntlet, I felt depressed, oppressed, inferior, suspect, etc, but once out of that environment, I felt truly free.
I collectred my checked bag and got on the shuttle to the car rental facility. Check in was relatively quick and easy, and they asked to see the proof of my negative covid test. My car was in space A28 – it was a Chevrolet Malibu. The car in space was not a Chevy Malibu, it was a full size Nissan SUV. Back to the office. “Wait here, sir. I’ll bring up your car to you.”
Through the gate at the street and around the corner to the Highway, and I’m off on another Hawai’i adventure.
TropicalCastaway 