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An anxious hum cuts through the warm night air at Honolulu International Airport. Side by side, with their vertical fin logos proudly illuminated, an army of jets sits ready for action on the terminal ramp, poised for their nocturnal mission with auxiliary power units zooming.

Baggage trucks and figures with red light sticks zip back and forth, to and from the gates, carving tiny shadows on the concrete, bathed in an orange glow from rows of flood lights.

Inside the terminal, a giant slumber party is gathering. Young boys and girls in their favorite pajamas, young women in designer sweats, and businessmen in jeans, are row by row ushered into the overnight capsules.

Pushback. Engine start. And now the challenge of weaving through a sparkling city of blue, green, amber and red that decorates the taxiways and makes the stars above perhaps just a bit jealous.

Back on board, the hushed cabin is greeted by the usual chorus of overhead chimes, preflight do's and do not's, and tiny thumps and whines from the belly of the Boeing. Some eyes are open, some closed, and many are somewhere in between.

Atop the tower, the beacon spins at its usual pace. White. Green. White. Just below in the cab, clearances crackle into the night and the fleet of long-range liners line-up for their ETOPS takeoff.

Inside the cockpit, hands busily twist and turn dimly lit nobs and buttons. The engines spool up. The centerline lights race towards the nose one by one, then become only a blurry line. V1. V2. Rotate. The moon fills the flight deck.

The wheels climb up to their bunks, and tuck neatly into their own beds, more comfortable, for sure, than the upright passengers above.

Drinks? No. Snack? No. Movie? Please, no. Just some sleep. And then it happens. The jet settles softly into its high-altitude perch, the cabin falls silent and still, and heads slowly tilt left and right, forward and back.

Then, suddenly a soft desent. A ding. A seat belt sign. Murmurs in the cabin. Then conversation. Five hours, and many miles have passed, with just one blink of the red eye.

Article by Chris Archer; Send him an email