Houston We Have a Problem
Sailing Francesca | Antarctica Expedition, Day 1 (sort of)
The plan was simple. Friday, November 13th, depart SFO at 10:53 p.m., connect, connect again, and land in Ushuaia with days to spare before Icebird Expeditions sails for the Antarctic Peninsula. Simple plans are the ones that go sideways.
The day the whole country stopped
My flight was delayed first. Then the entire country was grounded.
At 3:54 p.m. Eastern (12:54 p.m. in San Francisco), the FAA issued a nationwide ground stop for every airport in the United States. The cause was a communications outage affecting multiple Air Route Traffic Control Centers, the facilities that guide planes through the sky between airports. When controllers can’t reliably talk to aircraft, nothing takes off. At the moment the order came down, more than 4,000 flights were airborne and headed for US airports. The Homeland Security Secretary said there was no indication of a threat; it was a precaution. The ground stop lasted a little over four hours, until about 8:15 p.m. Eastern, but the damage was already done: thousands of flights delayed or cancelled, and every airline scrambling to put the pieces back together. You can read the FAA’s statement here.
Four hours doesn’t sound like much. It is plenty to wreck a tightly connected itinerary across the whole country.
A very quiet airport
By the time I got to SFO, the terminal had gone strangely still. No rush, no rolling suitcases racing for gates, just a long hush and a lot of people staring at departure boards that kept changing their minds. Somewhere between the third delay and the second cancellation, it stopped feeling like an airport and started feeling like a waiting room for the whole country. Planes were also stuck on the tarmac, with no one leaving no one was coming in.
It was eerily quiet and in the afternoon when a plane took off there was cheers.
An airport friend
That’s where I met a fellow traveler, Hari. We compared notes, compared itineraries, and swapped the sort of stories you only trade with someone in the same boat. A bad day is a lot easier to take when someone else is having it with you.
We booked with an agent at the airport and then did the sensible thing: we went back to Francesca. This was after many delays and two cancellations. at 11:00pm Hari and I headed home to Francesca. We both slept like logs. In the morning we had a really nice breakfast on the water, which is a better way to start a travel disaster than anything an airport food court can offer.
The rebooking
Around noon, I got the text: flight cancelled, rebooked. The new itinerary would have gotten me to Ushuaia on Wednesday. Wednesday is the day the ship leaves. That’s not a plan; that’s a prayer.
So back to the airport I went, determined to find anything that would get me to Ushuaia by Monday. My friend, meanwhile, landed a seat on an earlier flight through LA. I’m very happy for him. I also have no idea why I couldn’t have been on that flight too. (I’m choosing to be gracious about it.)
The itinerary from hell
Here is what I ended up with:
- Today: SFO to Chicago, leaving 10:35 p.m., arriving 5:04 a.m.
- Tomorrow: Chicago to Houston, 6:55 a.m. to 9:50 a.m.
- Tomorrow evening: Houston to Buenos Aires, 6:30 p.m. to 7:20 a.m.
- Monday: Buenos Aires to Ushuaia, 8:50 a.m. to 12:30 p.m.
Yes, Houston. We do, in fact, have a problem. It’s also a very long way around the hemisphere, and I’ll be sleeping in four airports’ worth of seats. But if every one of those legs actually goes, I’ll be standing in Ushuaia on Monday afternoon with time to spare.
I’m exhausted, and it looks like I won’t be sleeping for a while. Next stop: Chicago.
Follow along on Instagram @sailingfrancesca. I’ll post from the road as long as I have bars.