The C-118 transport droned on across the vast reaches of the Pacific Ocean.  Like most of us on the flight, I'd elected to try and sleep as much as possible during these open ocean flight legs.  It seemed to me that the cruising speed on this flying antique was 180 knots flat out.  With such a blistering pace, all of our trans-Pacific legs were at least 12 hours or more.  About an hour out of Wake Island, the word of our impending arrival filtered through the restless travelers.  I had a window seat on the right side of the aircraft and I peered out to see the first sign of our next stop.

 

As seen from the air at 10,000 feet, Wake Island was roughly bullseye-shaped with its three islands (the leftovers of a long-dead volcano) surrounded by coaral reefs with an inner lagoon.  The three islands that made up Wake were totally devoid of resources and wildlife.  The islands themselves had large expanses of white sand.  A desalinization plant mades fresh water for the personnel stationed there.  As the aircraft touched down on the island's airstrip, I looked out the window and saw the remains of all the airplanes that hadn't made it -- burned out and bulldozed off the edge of the runway in a kind of aircraft graveyard.  I thought that this was a rather grim way to start off our visit.   

 

At the time we passed through, Wake had a lot of military traffic stopping by to refuel.  Today, Wake's importance as a refuel stop has diminished, but it still operates as an emergency field and is home for scientists and observers on the Pacific Missile Range.  Wake is about 2,500 miles from anywhere; very isolated.  In 1970, the population was primarily Air Force, FAA (to run the tower) and the scientists and observers for the PMR.  Once a month, there was a "sanity flight" free of charge to other islands in the Pacific to keep people somewhat sane. 

 

Our stop on Wake was brief -- about four hours -- so we adjourned to the new bowling alley [all of four lanes] for something to eat and a couple of beers.  After the bowling alley, I went for a brief walk around the island.  I soon found out that the most valuable piece of equipment was a bicycle and there were very few cars or trucks.  Most of the motorized equipment had to do with the airfield.  Without exerting yourself, a person could walk to most any part of the island in about 30 minutes.  Our four hour layover on Wake was enough to convince the majority of us that we didn't want to stay here for any length of time.

 

The next stop on our Pacific Ocean odyssey was Midway, as in the famous Battle of Midway.  Midway is at the notheast end of the Hawaiian Islands and is hardly more than a huge pile of white sand.  The islands that make up Midway are home to a lot of sea birds including the albatross.  The albatross is a bird that eats fish and nests virtually everywhere on Midway.  The antics of the albatross' have earned them the name of Gooney Bird by the sailors and others that have seen them take off and land.  The average Gooney has a wingspan of over six feet.  The bird uses this expanse of wing to soar for hours on the sea breezes and thermals while hunting fish.  However, the bird's wingspan tends to get it in trouble when it tries to takeoff.  To takeoff, a Gooney takes a run down the beach while mightily flapping its huge wings.  It soon gets enough lift for takeoff and then is able to fly with a great more dignity than its attempt at getting airborne.  Gooney landings are controlled crashes and something that the birds have yet to master.  A Gooney lines up and makes his landing approach with both feet forward.  Just before contact, the bird flares and stalls, and its feet hit the sand.  At that time the bird goes head over tail several times until it stops.  The bird then gets up, shakes off the sand, and waddles away.  As far as personalities go, Gooneys are similar to barnyard geese -- extremely territorial and will attack any animal or human that "invades" their space.

 

As it turned out, we made landfall at Midway Island about 0630 in the morning and were just in time for breakfast.  We landed without incident which was no mean feat -- Gooney birds were causing millions of dollars in damages to aircraft because many of their nests were in front and near the active runways.  Sometimes the startled birds would takeoff in multitudes in front of landing or departing aircraft.  Always with fatal results for the Gooneys and sometimes [infrequently] for the crews of the aircraft.  The folks at the terminal directed us to the chow hall and we picked out way to it around the nested birds on the sidewalks and grass all the way there and back.  By 0900 we were back in the air again on our way to NAS Barbers Point, Hawaii.  Our crew was almost as anxious to get there as we were to be getting closer to home.  For them, NAS Barbers Point was home -- that's were they and the aircraft were stationed.  We figured that we'd have at least a remain overnight in Hawaii because the married guys wanted to "go home to  momma."  The rest of us looked forward to some sightseeing.