The Bermuda Triangle is for Real, People!

I was in Puerto Rico a few weeks ago celebrating my cousin Philippe’s wedding. On the flight home, my plane got lost in the Bermuda Triangle. No joking. Here’s what happened:

The American Airlines flight I was on from San Juan to JFK started off with some massive turbulence during the accent caused by some rough tropical weather near San Juan. Once we were up above most of the bumps, the plane seemed to continue to maneuver around more that usual, like we couldn't get our proper bearings. I figured we were just avoiding more choppy air. But then, about 90 minutes into a roughly 3.5 hour flight, the plane takes a very serious and prolonged left turn. A few minutes later, the captain announces over the intercom that “two of the three navigation systems on the aircraft have… ceased to function properly, so we will be flying back to San Juan.” We descended to 10,000 feet, which is the altitude at which a plane flies when it is in an emergency-type situation. And off we went towards what the pilot assured us was San Juan. But looking out the window there was absolutely nothing to see, only the deep dark ocean below. No land, no boats, no markers of any sort.

Naturally, my mind went to that unhappy place where I started imagining that the pilot was lying to us and that, in fact, we had NO working navigation equipment whatsoever and we were flying off into the wide blue yonder until we would eventually run out of fuel and crash into the ocean. I am usually a skeptic when it comes to urban legends like The Bermuda Triangle. But when suddenly thrust into a situation in which I am on an airplane with malfunctioning navigation equipment flying over the middle of nowhere Atlantic Ocean, I couldn’t help but think that maybe we really could be caught up in some sort of magnetic irregularity that occurs only in the Caribbean Atlantic. I happen to be an avid watcher of the TV show LOST, which no doubt contributed to my wild imaginings. Adding to my sorry state was the fact that I am very much afraid of flying even with all three navigation systems functioning properly. Needless to say, I was shitting bricks.

To make a very long story a tad shorter, the plane did land safely back in San Juan after going through that same awful storm on the way down that we had gone through on the up. But I didn’t care about another dose of terrible turbulence, I was just happy to see land and still have fuel in the tank. We then sat on the tarmac for three hours while they fixed the navigation systems. And then, after enduring a near rebellion by the passengers when we were informed that we would not be getting any food while we waited (eventually they gave us some sandwiches), and after waiting yet another hour for the crew to clean out the lavatory because some stressed out nicotine addict decided to smoke a cigarette, nearly getting himself arrested, we took off again and landed at JFK after an uneventful flight (aside from the third encounter with that storm hovering over San Juan). I took off (the first time) from San Juan at 10:30am New York time. I landed at JFK at 11pm, having never left the navigationally challenged plane.

So do I now believe in the Bermuda Triangle? Stay tuned for a post on my thought about the believability of urban legends and conspiracy theories.