Voyage to the Little Island of the Gods

Block's Island

Following the Pleistocene era, after glaciers -- nature's bulldozers -- pushed rock and debris into the Atlantic Ocean before halting their advances, an archipelago formed from the terminal moraines left behind. Known today as Long Island, Block Island, Martha's Vineyard, and Nantucket, these islands attract tourists each summer seeking an oceanside respite well removed from the mainland.

Block Island stands above the waves of the Atlantic roughly twelve nautical miles off the Rhode Island coast. It is named for Adrian Block, a Dutch explorer who "discovered" it in 1614 and promptly named it after himself. In reality, Native Americans settled the island long before Europeans and called it "Manisses" or "Little Island of the Gods". (Internet sources disagree on this translation -- I took this interpretation directly from a Block Island Historical Society interview with a woman whose Native American lineage on the island can be traced to a time before the Dutch arrived.)

My first and only prior visit to Block Island was in October 2017. In July 2024, I returned with the Williamson Flying Club, a flock of  thirteen people who made the voyage in five aircraft. Having just returned from Boston four days prior, I was concerned about the weather on Block. While staying in the Boston area, my plans to visit Katama on Martha's Vineyard were thwarted by a pervasive band of coastal fog that obscured the entire archipelago all week. Nonetheless, the forecast showed some promise and we launched as a group for the Little Island of the Gods.

Fly Gaggle Airlines!

Date	Aircraft	Route of Flight	Time (hrs)	Total (hrs)
14 Jul 2024	N21481	SDC (Sodus, NY) - BID (Block Island, RI) - BAF (Westfield, MA) - SDC	6.0	2859.8

Steve, Scott, and I launched third out of the five aircraft to depart the Williamson Sodus Airport around 8:00 am that morning. Steve is a student nearing the end of his Private Pilot training who has flown with me a few times previously. Scott had to slum it in the back seat because all of our club aircraft were booked that morning, leaving him no ability to fly himself. As WFC President, he humbly suggested that I could legitimately use the callsign "Williamson One" with air traffic control. Call me a coward, but I did not put that to a test.

Photo by Alicia.

First off that morning were Tom and Alicia in Two Six Romeo. They came particularly well equipped for this flight by carrying a pair of folding e-bikes in the Cherokee 180's baggage compartment.

Photo by Gilead.

Second to launch were Gilead, Jonathan, and Amy in Eight One Six. Jonathan is a relatively new club member who joined as an experienced pilot looking for access to affordable aircraft. Jonathan and I planned a club trip to the Piper Aviation Museum in Lock Haven, PA in June, but had to cancel (twice!) due to bad weather. Amy is a student on her first group outing with the club.

The rest of our caravan included two other aircraft. Dan, Alyssa, and Jay flew in Eight Five X-Ray. Dan is the current Activities Committee Chair and organizer of the day's Block Island expedition. Alyssa is a post-solo student who regularly seizes every opportunity to fly that she can. Jay is a naval aviator and friend of a friend who joined in when he heard where we were going.

Finally, brothers Aron and Ryan flew at the helm of One Delta Tango. Aron has been a member for several years, but this was his first time joining an Activities Committee fly-out. His younger brother Ryan soloed back in 2023 before earning his driver's license!

ForeFlight screen shot of our gaggle tracking south of Syracuse.

On departure from Sodus, I deviated south before picking up a course to Block Island in an effort to deconflict with the rest of the WFC aircraft. After listening to Tom and Gilead pick up flight following with Syracuse, I chimed in with my own request, identifying myself as "part of the gaggle headed to Block Island". This elicited a brief, well-controlled snort from the controller. Unlike past experiences with Syracuse, no one was going to compliment us for flying the same line while spaced a comfortable five miles apart that day.

Clearing as Forecast

The direct flight to Block Island required two hours and fifteen minutes. Uplinked weather conditions showed fog and low IFR conditions at Block Island during most of the flight, but the weather improved as forecast during the last hour. Monitoring ADS-B traffic in the area, Scott noted that several aircraft launched from Westerly, RI for Block Island as soon as the weather cleared. Remembering that the ramp at Block Island was not enormous, I worried that there would be nowhere to park by the time we arrived, but we continued on regardless.

Sectional chart depiction of Block Island.

Overflying the twelve mile wide expanse of Block Island Sound presents little risk if altitude is managed properly. We remained within gliding distance of the eastern seaboard or the island at all times. We reached the island shortly after numerous other arrivals, our five airplanes creating a small arrival push at the uncontrolled general aviation airport.

 Maneuvering for the traffic pattern south of Block Island. Photo by Steve.

We overflew the airport at 1,000 feet above the pattern from north to south, then made an arcing, descending turn to the 45° entry for the downwind leg to runway 28. The runway is 108 feet above sea level.

Final approach, runway 28, Block Island State Airport. Photo by Alicia.

At 2,500 feet long, the runway is adequate, but not expansive and single engine aircraft pilots are wise to consider the effects of weight and heat in their takeoff performance. To eyeball the 100 foot wide runway, the unusual aspect ratio creates an illusion of a runway that is even shorter than it actually is.

Follow Me!

My concerns about parking were completely unfounded. Each arrival was greeted on radio and met by a "follow me" truck that led them to parking in the grass on the east end of the airport. Parking spaces were delineated by cones set in the grass where the truck would pause, instruct the taxiing aircraft to "park here", then return to the ramp to escort the next arrival to parking. I was impressed by the practical efficiency of it all.

A TBM that arrived shortly before we did was directed to park on the west side of airport. "Any chance we could get a ride to the terminal?" queried the TBM pilot of the "follow me" truck.

"Uh...we're kind of busy," the driver responded with a heavily implied "no". Clearly someone arrived at modest Block Island with high falutin Martha's Vineyard expectations.

Dan standing guard over the WFC fleet parked at Block Island.

Tom's Cherokee, with e-bikes unpacked and unfolded, was parked next to the club's Bold Warrior, Eight One Six.

There seems to be an unwritten rule that every mass arrival must immediately be followed by some unfocussed milling around behavior. This is so pervasive that I often plan a little buffer time into every post-arrival schedule to ensure that we keep on time.

Warrior 481, Tom's Two Six Romeo, and Eight One Six.

Eight Five X-Ray, the club hauler.

Photo by Dan.

We lined up for our obligatory group photo: Dan, Jay, Alyssa, Jonathan, Amy, Gilead, Steve, Ryan, Aron, Scott, me, Alicia, and Tom.

People Fuel

There is no avgas for sale on Block Island (just imagine those delivery fees), but people fuel can be obtained from "Ellen's at the Airport", a small diner in the terminal building that opened in late 2023. The diner includes both indoor and outdoor shaded seating.

In case anyone is wondering where they've just landed.

We paid our $10 landing fees at the FBO counter, then somehow managed to secure seating for eleven people (Tom and Alicia rode their bikes into town for fancier fare) in the very busy diner, though some of us had a table and the rest were at the bar. The food was good and the staff were friendly.

Victorian Sentinel

Bike Gang. Photo by Gilead.

After lunch, we walked a mile into town, Jonathan and I taking up the rear to ensure that we did not lose anyone. Those of us who did not bring our own rented bikes from Island Moped and Bike. Our first destination was the Southeast Lighthouse, which consistent with my memory of the last visit, stands on a bluff at the end of an uphill slog from town. For his part, Scott swore off bikes for good after making that ride.

The Southeast Lighthouse was constructed in 1873. It was placed atop the Mohegan bluffs close to the edge despite warnings from local farmers of persistent erosion. These warnings became reality decades later when, by the 1980s, only 60 feet of land remained between the lighthouse and the precipice. After a ten year lobbying effort and three acts of Congress, the entire 2,000 ton Victorian brick structure was rescued in 1993 by moving it 250 feet away from the edge. I am certain that it was a white knuckler as the entire intact structure was excised from its original foundation, jacked-up, and rolled to its new foundation.

Alicia, Amy, Tom, Gilead, Dan, Alyssa, and Jay with the Southeast Lighthouse.

Invasion Proofing

In the mid-16th century, the Mohegans tried to conquer Block Island. They failed spectacularly and were forced over the bluffs to their doom by resident Niantic. Centuries later, the bluffs still carry the Mohegan name. It is not a way that I would care for anything to be named after me.

A steep staircase located west of the Southeast Lighthouse provides access to the base of the bluffs.

And it is steep!

Shy of the bottom, the stairway was blockaded and further passage discouraged. Obviously, many people continued on anyway and we did too. It was like the Rockport breakwater all over again.

Tom! Photo by Alicia.

Alicia! Photo by Tom.

Alicia, Tom, and Dan at the base of the Mohegan Bluffs.

Photo by Gilead.

Photo by Dan.

While some of us enjoyed basking in the sun to the hypnotic rhythm of the surf, others (Amy, Alyssa, Gilead, Jay, and Dan) ventured into the ocean.

It was a serene and restful moment for a club flying trip. After a while, my phone buzzed with a text from Jonathan, who had chosen not to brave the stairs. "Are you all still down there?"

I assured him that we were and that he had not missed us, but it inspired me to head back up to the top.

Photo by random tourist.

We scrambled back up the cliffside to where the stairs began. Here, we got one of our better group photos courtesy of another group.

Biker Gang Disbanded

Fortunately, the ride back to town was mostly downhill. Scott threw in the towel and called a taxi to transport both him and his bike to New Shoreham. The rest of us toured around on two wheels for a while before going to Aldo's for ice cream or gelato. I had the blood orange gelato and, after pedaling around on a hot day, I think it was the most refreshing thing I have ever consumed and immediately regretted only getting a small.

Alyssa, Amy, Jay, Jonathan, and Dan at Aldo's.

Tom's shoulder, Gilead, Aron, Ryan, and Scott at Aldo's.

Back at Island Moped and Bike, the eleven of us who did not bring our own bikes to the island were offered a ride to the airport in a pickup truck. Some of us were inside the extended cab while others were in the bed. It was like a throwback to my childhood in the 1970s and '80s.

They certainly seemed to be having fun back there.

Except that it wasn't the '70s or '80s anymore and another Island Moped and Bike employee ran at us waving his arms before we could pull away from the curb. "You're going to get pulled over for sure," he told our driver. "And you cannot be pulled over," he added pointedly.

We headed for the airport after swapping drivers. Our new driver grew up on the island and reputedly knew every officer who worked on the island. Fortunately, it was all moot. No one pulled us over. And we did not have to walk uphill all the way back to the airport. It was a win-win.

Photo by Dan.

Attrition

We discussed next steps in the Block Island State Airport terminal and decided that four of the aircraft would head to Westfield-Barnes in Massachusetts for dinner at Tobiko Sushi. Concerned about an early start the next day, Tom and Alicia flew directly back to Sodus from Block Island.

Warrior 481 waited patiently in the grass for me, Steve, and Scott to return.

Tom and Alicia reloaded their folding e-bikes into Two Six Romeo.

Dan preparing Eight Five X-Ray for departure.

Two Six Romeo (Tom), One Delta Tango (Aron), and Eight One Six (Gilead) running up at Block Island.

It was hot on block island, the runway length was not extravagant, and I was carrying two passengers besides myself. While I confess that I do not routinely check performance calculations for every runway, I did for this one. After running the numbers, I decided to treat the departure as a short field and deployed 25° of flaps after backtaxiing to the end of runway 28, turning around, and lining up on centerline.

The extra precautious were probably unnecessary; Warrior 481 lifted off quickly and climbed skyward with plenty of runway remaining.

Jewel in the Atlantic

Clearing the western end of the island, still on runway heading.

On the way in, I discovered that my still camera was missing its data card and realized that it was still inserted into my PC after downloading the Boston photos. (Oops.) Fortunately, my iPhone was still available in a pinch. Rather than departing directly for the mainland, I made a climbing left turn to both gain altitude before crossing Block Island Sound and to survey the island.

Turning eastbound along the south face of the island.

Looking down at the highest portion of the Mohegan Bluffs.

I was disappointed that time did not permit a ride to the northernmost end of the island to visit the picturesque North Lighthouse like I did on my first visit. Constructed of brown granite and set among the dunes of the island's northern tip, the North Lighthouse is quite different from the Southeast Lighthouse in both look and setting. Considering how tired some participants were, I think the mere suggestion of going there might have incited a revolt.

Topping It Off with Sushi

Our four airplanes landed in rapid succession on runway 33 at Westfield-Barnes exactly one week after my previous visit there.

Aron and I took on fuel at Westfield-Barnes considering how reasonable the pricing was for a towered airport. While refueling, a CFI from one of the flight schools approached and asked how much I wanted to sell the Warrior. I explained that it was not for sale.

Dinner was excellent, as always. Even Scott, who was skeptical, became a convert. Aron and Ryan both ordered noodle bowls that were so generously portioned that they departed with leftovers. It was a terrific capstone to a beautiful day of flying and exploring.

As I approached the Warrior to begin a preflight inspection, Scott pointed out that one of the axle bolts holding my starboard wheel pant in place had backed out. It was a good catch because, if I missed it on my preflight, launching in that condition would have surely resulted in a lost bolt.

I returned to Atlantic-Westfield and asked to borrow a crescent wrench. I knew that the hex bolt head was a 7/16" or a 9/16", but was not sure which. The lineman did not know what a crescent wrench was, but allowed me to poke around in their toolbox and I could not find one. Happily, they had a set of open ended wrenches that we took back to the airplane us.

"It's a good thing that the boss isn't here. He doesn't like us working on customers' airplanes," the lineman said as we walked, handwringing ever so slightly.

"Let me be clear, I am not expecting you to do anything but loan me a wrench. No one is touching my airplane but me." After that clarification, the lineman visibly relaxed. 

The wrench set was missing the size I needed, but I used a metric wrench that was close enough, tightened the bolt, and returned the wrench set to the Atlantic lineman with gratitude.

Westfielded!

The same controller that we encountered at Westfield-Barnes a week prior was working again that evening. Because of the quick repair, the other three WFC airplanes were already running before I came up on frequency. I tuned in just in time to hear:

"Hey, Eight Five X-Ray, are you planning on taxiing any time soon? Eight One Six, once your buddy finally decides to taxi, you can follow him to runway three three via alpha, cross runway 2."

The man clearly has a way with words. Dan may have avoided getting "Westfielded" in 2022 when we departed there for Alton Bay (unlike me and Tom who caught flak from him), but the prickly controller got his digs in anyway.

Photo by Steve.

The ride home was a non-event, but may have involved Scott heaping more vitriol on his rented bicycle. We flew home through a dynamic cloudscape. At one point, I suggested that the cloud in front of us looked like some kind of sleek, twin tailed fighter jet.

"I was thinking the same thing," Steve replied while taking the above photo.

All in all, it was another great trip with the Williamson Flying Club and Block Island is always a worthy destination.