A few months ago, Compass Aviation, the ministry that I am working with in Shelby, NC, prepared an airplane for missionary service in Honduras. A few weeks ago, Compass was contacted and asked if we could send a team to Honduras to repair some damage done to that very plane.

After assessing the damage from photos, Compass decided that only one person needed to go, and they decided that since I was the one who initially installed the now-damaged piece, I was the most obvious choice to send.

As far as distance goes, Honduras is closer to our home in North Carolina than California, where we spent 2 weeks just last month. But the differences are enormous. One thing I notice around there is the cheapness of life and prevalence of sin.

First of all is the fact that any and every security guard in the cities is packing some SERIOUS heat. Whether it’s a shotgun, an M-16, or whatever; they have stuff with a punch. And it’s because otherwise, people would be far bolder in robbing, and so the only way to prevent it is with the threat of death.

Once we arrived in the village, I would hear gunshots every once in awhile. We would simply hope it was just a soldier shooting a dog or pig and not another person. Apparently gunshots are pretty common there. A lot more common than what I’m used to having grown up in Africa, where it was a big deal; hence why dad wouldn’t use his gun any more than necessary.

Second thing is the wildlife. The missionaries there had a pet monkey, there were parrots flying overhead every morning and evening, and I saw my first Tarantula in the wild.

Another thing is the drug cartels. Flying around Eastern Honduras, I saw drug airstrips all over the place. I was told about how bad it’s become recently, where in some villages, on Sunday morning as they’re filing into church, people are handed out their pay for helping unload the drugs from the plane the night before. No-one has ever taught in the church about how drugs are bad, and helping the drug trade is bad, and instead there seems to be a focus on petty issues and minor squabbles. Of course, who WOULDN’T be tempted to make a years’ worth of wages (in Honduras) in just one night of work? I can see how it would be easy to justify it when you’re not the one making it, and you’re not the one using it. Before we judge them, consider how much restraint it would take to withstand working only one or two nights, and then being able to relax the rest of the year off that paycheck. How strong are YOUR convictions?

But those are all just impressions about Honduras, not what I went to do.

The original goal was to repair a damaged wingtip on the exact plane that we at Compass had prepared earlier this year to send down there. The airstrip in this particular village gets very narrow at one end, and so turning around can be tricky. Normally, it’s not an issue, but this time, before takeoff, the pilot noticed the flaps going up a bit, then down a bit, then up a bit, etc. He thought he was stopped while he looked out the window at the flaps to try to figure out what to do, and it was then that he bumped into a tree. The good news is that he was going so slow that he thought he was stopped, so the damage was very localized and minor. The bad news was that he still hit a tree.

I spent a few days cutting out the damaged leading edge ‘cuff’, then returning the original leading edge skin (still on the plane) to its original shape, or as close as possible, and then splicing in a new piece of leading edge skin that I brought with me in my luggage. After trimming, fitting, and then riveting it in place, it was painted and ready to go after just a few days’ work. 

This left me in an excellent position to help out with other things on the plane. For example, the major contributor to the damaged wing was the flap oscillation, which I knew was caused by a microswitch in the cockpit having vibrated out of adjustment, so I was able to readjust that. I was also able to apply an anti-corrosion treatment to the entire airframe. Because the air is humid and salty (they fly to the coast quite frequently), corrosion is a major problem, and so the solution is to apply an oily mist to all the metal on the inside of the plane.

All of this was done on my own, because the pilot/mechanic there came down with something very severe the day after we flew into the village of Rus-Rus. It seemed to be a combination of malaria and something else, which got so severe at one point that he could not keep down water and only remained hydrated by means of an IV drip.

He was asked to do a flight, but couldn’t (physically). Someone in the village shot himself through the foot with a spear gun. Thankfully, it wasn’t a critical injury, and so they could endure the very uncomfortable six hour drive over gravel and mud roads instead of the one hour flight.

That incident, however, spurred me on to get the plane back into the air. I kept telling myself that as soon as the pilot felt better, if something urgent came up medically, then the plane would be needed, and people could die if it were not ready to fly.

Sure enough, as soon as the pilot was well enough to start flying again, a request for a medical flight came in. It was a lady with the same symptoms that the pilot had previously had, but she was unable to stay in the village because the majority of the IV bags had been used up on the pilot (considering it’s a very small medical facility in that village).

At the larger hospital, we found out that 3 people with those exact same symptoms had died that week because they had not been brought in soon enough, and most likely died of dehydration. Thankfully, the lady that was flown out was still in the early stages and could be treated properly.

It was a privilege to be so immediately involved in saving someone’s life, having just repaired the plane used for that flight.

Just because the work on the plane was done did not mean I sat around for the rest of my time in Honduras. Instead, I was able to help out the missionaries there with multiple projects, like mounting an antenna for a satellite phone so they can actually talk inside their house, or like putting screens up on the windows so that at least a few of the bugs will stay outside. I was also able to help install some security lights on the hangar, and protect their water pump from the elements by constructing a little shed around it with left-over roofing material from the airplane hangar.

Once all that was done, I was able to move to another mission station and work on another airplane for a different organization: Alas de Socorro. That airplane needed all of its cylinders replaced, and because I was qualified and available, I was more than happy to help. 

Strangely, I found myself teaching the mechanics there about changing cylinders out. That’s because typically they do not do such heavy maintenance on their planes, whereas at Compass, we do it quite frequently.

 I found that Compass has given me a degree of confidence and level of skill that I wouldn’t otherwise have. I may not know all the details of how something is done, but I know where to find those details and I know what I’m doing. Really, that’s about all you need. Aside from tools. 

Speaking of tools, I saw just how much I REALLY need my own tools. I found myself longing for this or that which I would borrow from someone at the shop. And in Honduras there was no other tool box to go to other than a meager box of corroding tools. So what should have taken just a few seconds instead took 10 minutes just because I didn’t have that perfect tool. And when there’s pressure of getting a plane running because it’s often relied upon for medical emergencies, those few minutes can add up pretty quick into the difference between life and death for someone. I may be able to get by for now, but before I head overseas long-term, a complete set of tools will be essential.

Until then, I’m glad to be back home in North Carolina with my family and back at Compass where we are continuing to have an impact on the world through mission aviation.