I will remember the last flight I took from Denver to Miami. Got stretch seating for that but the seats would not recline and had as much padding as a bus bench. Frontier, I’m looking at you. And goodbye.
I also remember a puddle jumper flight in Costa Rica. Twin Otter. Bad weather so we where going to divert to a different airport. They knew this before takeoff, and one of the ground crew gave the pilot a portable GPS unit that they rubber banded to the wheel/yoke. Case he got lost I guess. Not sure what ‘emoticon’ to use here. It was a bit strange. Weather cleared up in flight and we ended up at our originally planned destination. Our ride was, or course at the other ‘airport’. Kind of a long day, but I can talk about it, so a perfect flight.
On another very short flight from Belize city to Ambergris Caye, the flight was a bit full. I was stuffed into the co-pilot seat. That was a Cessna Caravan. “Don’t touch anything”, was my pre-flight safety instruction. I obliged.
Flew into Bloomington Ill about 45 years ago in a twin. I was right behind the pilot. Even at that age I knew what a stall buzzer was (my father was taking flight lessons at the time, he was not the pilot). I swear this was some sort of training flight. The plane stalled on approach in a very, very nasty rain storm. Landed a bit hard, but all ok. That was scary.
I gotta disagree with this. These days every seat has a video monitor that feeds a constant stream of visuals and info about the flight, it’s path, speed, altitude, time at destination, time to arrival, even the view from the nose for take off. And people watch them. A lot.
(I personally find the take off view unsettling but can only avoid it by closing my eyes because it’s on almost every screen!)
If the OP is asking whether flights used to be more bumpy than they are now, the answer is yes. Airlines are far better equipped to identify storms over the oceans and route their flights around them than was possible in the 1960s.
If the OP is asking whether someone on a transoceanic flight could actually identify where the flight got bumpy, an experienced traveler like Mr. Bond develops a knack for knowing where they are along the route at any given time. The Azores would be about 1/3 of the way from Europe to the U.S. along the southern Atlantic route.
I can think of at least two flights that ended with stories like that. Although not so calm.
On a prop flight from Milwaukee to Detroit: “OMG the turbulence over Lake Michigan!” I came off that flight so seasick, that an old friend spotted me in the hallway at Detroit Metro and asked if I needed an ambulance.
From DCA to Tampa, for my Grandfather’s funeral (whose name was Daniel, as it happens): “We passed over Hurricane Danny in Georgia, I actually hit my head on the roof of the cabin!” The turbulence on that flight was truly epic. And I never did get to use the bathroom. Most uncomfortable.
Perhaps that’s so, but today the pilots often announce where the plane is when turbulence hits (“we’re climbing to avoid thunderstorms around Abilene, but it will still be bumpy”). Of course there are fewer reference points over the oceans, but IME pilots will still say something like “200 miles north of Shitbird Island” or whatever.
There is some truth to this. Scheduled service out of my little local airport (“We’ve got two gates–one for departures and one for arrivals!”) is aboard a Beechcraft 1900D, heading for Calgary. No inflight entertainment, the noise of the propellor engines preclude conversation, no food or drinks, and hardly enough room to get up if you need to go to the lav, which I’m still unsure if the aircraft is equipped with. I just sit and look out the window, but I remember the flights–some bumpy, some smooth, and some weird takeoffs and landings.
By contrast, my connecting flights on larger jet aircraft from Calgary, to such places as Toronto, Vancouver, and various American destinations, are pretty unmemorable. There is entertainment, food and drinks for those who want them, an inflight magazine, talking with a seatmate, and all kinds of other distractions. I might be able to tell you what I did during the flight, but I won’t be able to tell you much else.
Back when I started flying places, in the '760s, your in-flight entertainment options were the in-flight coloring book, a book, your seat-mates, or looking out the window.
And when I woke up in the morning (after sleeping unbuckled on the floor), the windows were open and the pilot was flying just at the top of a sea of cloud, with waves and peaks and canyons of white.
Prince Philip was once reported as replying to some greeting functionary’s enquiry about his flight " Have you ever flown?"
“Yes, of course, sir”
“Well, it was just like that”.
Thanks for the input everyone. It doesn’t really answer my question, but I guess that’s because the particular thing I’m asking about is just a subjective impression of mine to which there is no factual answer. In any case the replies were all interesting!
I think what I’m asking about is the type of dialogue. Irrespective of whether flights are now less bumpy, or just as bumpy, as they used to be, my feeling (but again, it’s a purely subjective one) is (1) that people used to be more likely to inquire about how another person’s flight was than now, when flying is considered to be a mundane and boring form of getting from A to B rather than an adventurous endeavour, and (2) that people are more likely nowadays to think of flying as a kind of teleportation, where you magically disappear at the airport of departure and magically reappear hours later at the airport of arrival (with the hours in between being a period of time that you need to kill), instead of an actual voyage that makes you pass through all the points along the route.
Sometimes they’re just not where you’d expect to find them, or possibly not where you could get to one if you needed it. Maybe there’s a supply in the cargo hold?
Even in non-propeller planes you might find one if you know where to look!
Just yesterday (Dec. 2), while doing a pre-flight inspection of this cute little aircraft, I found several barf bags — conveniently stashed underneath the rear seat where neither occupant would ever be able to get to it when you need it.
In 1980, I had the distinct opportunity to answer the question by describing my view into Mt. St. Helens. Just a few weeks after that big eruption, I happened to fly from S. F. area to Seattle for a four-day symposium all about killer whales. On the way, we flew right alongside (not exactly over) the volcano. The pilot announced the fact, and dipped his right wing so we could look down into the crater. It was still smoking. The terrain was solid gray for miles around, and littered with piles of trees laying around in heaps like piles of Pick-Up Sticks.
Well yeah, mundane and boring people probably think flying is just a mundane and boring form of getting from A to B rather than an adventurous endeavour.
Of course, there’s still opportunity enough for more adventurous people to think otherwise! (Cite.)
Recently, on Nov. 10, while I flew the above-pictured aircraft in circles for an hour while going nowhere in particular (flight trace here) — adventurous enough! — my friend Ramy, unbeknown to me at the time, flew his glider down the adjacent mountain range, about 200 miles from Point A (Hollister) to Point B (Santa Ynez) (flight trace here)!
This is a guy who routinely flies his glider on 600-mile cross-country trips!
There’s adventure out there for those who are into that, beyond the mundane and boring!
Not to mention the ugliest stews in aviation. I love the Hercs, but if they’re the only plane that can get you where you’re going, you’re going to a bad place.
According to Sebastian Junger’s The Perfect Storm, U.S. Coast Guard para-rescue divers, famously unflappable, refer to dives into even the most terrifyingly mountainous seas as “sporty.”
My purely subjective opinion is that it is common human behavior to inquire a fellow traveler about their journey whether via land, sea or air. Sort of, kind of, like the common question which really does not need a truthful answer.
“Hello. How are you?”
“How was your trip along the Silk Road? Were the natives restless?”
“Glad to see you arrive safely. How was your voyage through the Indian Ocean?”
“Did you see any train-wrecks along the way?”
“I heard a bus went off the cliff in <insert location here>”
“How was your flight?”
“You posted a serious question on the SDMB? In General Questions? And it got hijacked?”
“How was your flight?” - “A bit bumpy above the Azores, but fine otherwise.”
Coincidentally, this exact line was in Our Man in Havana. I just finished the book, and I am guessing it is in the movie version and that is where it was heard. In the book it is a throwaway line that indicates that travel is no bother to a dashing secret agent. Of course the dashing secret agent is mildly incompetent, so take it for what you will.
