Island Adventure
It takes a series of mishaps, a fuel shortage, and some inhospitable neighbors to turn this routine, two-day flight mission into “Around the Pacific in 35 Days.”

The year was 1979, and there was a worldwide gasoline shortage. You may remember long lines at the pumps, but I was stationed at NAS Agana, Guam, and we had to worry about refueling stops on flight missions. The station’s only fixed-wing aircraft, a US-2B, was scheduled to be swapped for a similar recently overhauled aircraft at NAS Atsugi, Japan. As the pilot on that mission, I planned a refueling stop at Iwo Jima, Japan, the only available fuel stop along the route of flight.

Current flight planning publications advertised available aviation fuel at Iwo Jima, but when we arrived the Japanese operators refused to sell us any from their limited supply. The verbal exchange that followed could have been from Laurel and Hardy. I told them we would need lodging since we could go no farther. They replied that Americans could not stay on “their” island. “Fine, sell us fuel, and we will leave.” “No.” “Then we will need lodging.” “No.” After half an hour, they relented. Selling us fuel, it was decided, was the lesser of two evils.

Under the watchful eyes of a group of Japanese monitors, Woody, my ever-resourceful plane captain with a giant body and flaming red beard, began filling our tanks. As he approached the agreed-upon bare minimum amount of fuel, Woody gazed skyward, commenced whistling, and kept pumping. The Japanese monitors were infuriated and scrambled for an alternate shut-off valve. Upon take-off, we were told, in no uncertain terms, we were not welcome back on Iwo Jima.

Our only way back to Guam would now require diplomatic clearance to fly through the island nation of Taiwan. We waited three weeks in Atsugi for the clearance to come through.

Once finally under way, somewhere over the Philippine Islands, our HF radio died. We landed at NAS Cubi Point where we received a replacement that had been sitting on a supply department shelf for 18 years, and it too malfunctioned. At our next stop on Mactan, a hydraulic line ruptured. There were then several more days of waiting for a replacement line that was onboard an aircraft carrier enroute from Hawaii.

We then landed at Palau—and Yap, and Ulithi—but there was no fuel to be had. We waited another week until a passing merchant ship dropped a 55-gallon barrel of fuel into the ocean for us. When we arrived back in Guam, we realized it had taken one day to fly to Atsugi, and exactly five weeks to fly back. We were gone so long that a betting pool was under way, with bets placed as to our return date. I don’t remember who profited from our journey of mishaps, but I’ll never forget the adventure.

— Cmdr. Gordon Roberts is retired from the Navy. He lives in Cadiz, Ky.