Ever wonder what it’s like to fly in a Navy jet, take off from an aircraft carrier, pull over 6 g’s or vomit in a fighter?

Read on.

On April 1, 2014, I received a phone call that, even after months of waiting, I wasn’t expecting.

I had applied, with the blessing of my previous employer, to the US Navy for a very remote yet potential opportunity to fly with the Blue Angels at Sun ‘n Fun in Lakeland. They are the U.S. Navy’s flight demonstration squadron, showcasing the Navy and Marine Corps’ skill and teamwork through aerial display.

Six months, a detailed physical, and many wavers later, I received a phone call from Pensacola, advising me that I was cleared to be in the second seat of the #7 F/A- 18.

Naturally, as it was April Fool’s Day, I thought it was a joke. It wasn’t.

So 11 years ago this afternoon, I met Lt. Ryan Chamberlain, the pilot who would take me through preflight and ultimately take me on a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I was fitted with a jumpsuit. Given an air sick bag. Advised to eat a banana muffin for two reasons: it’s best to fly with something in your stomach, and it tastes the same coming up as it does going down.

I’m not ashamed to admit that this proved to be good advice for me that day.

The pilot of the #7 plane is, among other responsibilities, the announcer for the Blue Angels at air shows. He’s also the one responsible for flights granted to guests, community leaders and the media.

Chamberlain asked my how I wanted my 45-minute flight to go. I requested an aircraft carrier takeoff, and for him to put me to the test until I begged for mercy.

He obliged me.

On that day, I also met 7 crew chief Eli Lang, a gentleman in charge of safely installing me into the jet.

Walking up to it, this aircraft was a little intimidating, knowing it was about to take me for the ride of a lifetime. Lang directed me up a ladder and carefully into a tight-fitting seat. A six-point harness left no wiggle room whatsoever. My precious airsickness bag was safely secured in a leg pocket of my jumpsuit; with the harness on, it was the only way I could reach it once in flight.

At the end of his safety checklist, he asked me to give a thumbs up and smile for the camera. If you look closely at my goggles, you will see his reflection as he took the above photo. I’m eternally grateful for the photo, especially since I was smiling. I wouldn’t be for long.

After some final instructions, including what would happen if we had to eject, the canopy was closed. There was no going back.

We taxied out to the runway and waited for takeoff clearance. When it came, Chamberlain throttled up, and we catapulted down the runway so fast, I felt that I’d left my very soul back in the hangar.

As we approached 300 knots, I’d been told that, when the pilot hit his mark, he would say, “Ready, hit it,” and pull back on the stick hard for a vertical takeoff.

The second we left the ground, I was both terrified and exhilarated. I saw nothing but blue sky and the back of the pilot’s yellow helmet as gravity forced the blood out of my head. Still, I’d practiced some techniques to keep from passing out and managed to stay conscious for the entire flight. It remains one of my proudest moments.

Going back to the airsick bag: flying in tight turns, flipping upside down, and pulling big gravitational forces caused my stomach to become unhappy. Not even a motion sickness patch and Dramamine could stop the inevitable.

After 20 minutes of hard flying, I was physically done. We spent the remainder of the flight checking out the bombing range in Avon Park, enjoying the commentary from the pilot as he prepared for landing.

Once back at the hangar, Lang was the first to see me out of the jet. Once free of the restraints, I wobbled down the ladder, and stood beside #7 with Chamberlain for a photo and a handshake. For the experience, I was gifted a personalized group photo of the crew in formation, and a copy of a video shot of me during my flight. Much of it would need to be censored.

Frame in hand, I walked slowly back to the preflight room, where I proceeded to watch the room spin for another hour. When my mind settled and my body calmed down, I was ready for the drive home.

This was 11 years ago. Why am I writing about it again now?

Truth be told, the experience was life-changing. Very few people in the world get this opportunity. It was never a lifelong dream of mine to have this experience, but I would do it all again if I could. The risk was worth the reward.

Sun ‘n Fun brings hundreds of aircraft from all eras to Polk County. Military aircraft, like the F/A-18, historical planes from WWII and earlier, experimental aircraft, and private planes from all over the world, flown by everyone from student pilots to seasoned veterans.

If you’re an aviation enthusiast, someone who craves cool experiences, or want to share something special and unique with your family or friends, this event is less than an hour from here. It’s educational. It’s entertaining. And it’s incredibly fun.

While you may not get a ride in that blue jet this week, know that awesome things happen all around us, even right in our backyard.

For more information about Sun ‘n Fun 2025, running now through April 6, please visit https://flysnf.org/.