The FBO Crisis Nobody's Talking About

I'm going to say something that a lot of people are thinking but nobody has the courage to say out loud: the FBO situation at ACK has become untenable. There. Someone had to say it.

For those unfamiliar with the term—and I realize some readers may primarily use the ferry—FBO stands for Fixed Base Operator. It's the private aviation terminal. Where people like my family arrive when we fly in for the weekend.

And lately? It's been a disaster.

The Incident

Last Friday, my father—Prescott Whitmore III, you may have heard of him, he's on the board of several things—landed at approximately 4:15 PM. Prime arrival time. Our family's usual slot, actually. We've been landing around 4:15 on summer Fridays since 2012.

He waited forty-seven minutes for ground transportation.

FORTY-SEVEN MINUTES.

At the FBO. Which, I cannot stress this enough, is not the commercial terminal. This is the private side. The side that exists specifically so that people don't have to wait.

My father called me from the tarmac—well, from the lounge, but he could SEE the tarmac—absolutely beside himself. "Trip," he said, "I didn't fly private to stand around like some kind of... ferry person."

His words, not mine. Though I understand the sentiment.

The Root Cause

Here's what's happening, and I've done extensive research on this (I asked around at the yacht club): the airport is overwhelmed because too many people are trying to use it.

Not too many private flights. Private aviation is fine. We have every right to be there. My family has been flying into ACK since—well, since we started chartering in 2015, and fractional ownership in 2019, and the G550 in 2022. We're legacy users.

No, the problem is the commercial side. JetBlue. Cape Air. The parade of rental families clogging up the airspace with their—and I'm not trying to be elitist here, I'm just stating facts—their scheduled departures.

Every time a Cape Air flight takes off, that's runway time that could be allocated to private aircraft. Every JetBlue arrival means more congestion, more delays, more of my father standing in a lounge that, while admittedly very nice, is not his living room.

A Conversation at Cru

I was discussing this issue recently at Cru with a gentleman I met at the bar. Turned out he was the CEO of a major—I probably shouldn't name the company, but let's just say if you've ever bought anything online, you've used his platform. MAJOR player.

Anyway, Richard—we're on a first-name basis now, we've literally had one conversation but it was very substantive—Richard said something that stuck with me. He said, "Trip, the island is being loved to death by people who don't understand how to love it properly."

I think about that a lot.

Richard gets it. He flies in on his own plane—not fractional, actually his—and even HE has experienced delays. If it's happening to Richard, what hope do the rest of us have?

The Two-Tier System

Look, I understand that commercial aviation serves a purpose. Not everyone can fly private. I get that. My family wasn't always in a position to fly private either—I mean, we were, but we chose not to for environmental reasons for a while in the early 2000s. So I understand the other side.

But there needs to be a system. A hierarchy. A recognition that some travelers have different needs than others.

When my father lands after a long week of board meetings and whatever else he does—I'll be honest, I'm not entirely clear on the specifics, something with capital—he shouldn't have to wait behind a Cape Air prop plane full of day-trippers who are going to spend four hours on the island and leave.

Those people can wait. They have nowhere important to be. They're here to look at lighthouses or whatever.

My father has a dinner reservation at 7:30. Priorities.

Proposed Solutions

I've given this considerable thought, and I'd like to propose the following:

1. Priority Landing Slots for Legacy Families

If your family has been flying into ACK for more than ten years, you should get priority. Simple. My family would qualify. So would Richard's, probably. We could form a committee.

2. Commercial Flight Caps During Peak Hours

Friday afternoons and Sunday evenings should be reserved primarily for private aviation. Commercial flights can operate in the off-hours—Tuesday mornings, for instance. Nobody important is arriving Tuesday morning.

3. The ACK Gauntlet: Earning Your Landing Slot

If commercial passengers absolutely INSIST on using the runway during peak hours, they should have to earn it. I'm envisioning a competition—something like that ninja warrior program my trainer's always watching—but tailored to Nantucket.

Picture this: contestants must first navigate a full-scale rotary replica while being honked at by actors driving rental Jeeps. Points deducted for using a turn signal (locals don't). Then they must parallel park a Wrangler on a cobblestone street while a crowd of influencers attempts to photograph their feet in front of the vehicle.

Round two: wait in a simulated Juice Bar line for 45 minutes without complaining, checking your phone, or asking "is it always like this?" Elimination round: correctly pronounce "Siasconset" on the first try. (Automatic disqualification for saying "Sy-AS-con-set" or, God forbid, asking what it is.)

The finals would include a blind taste test distinguishing a $42 lobster roll from a $38 lobster roll, identifying which wine Richard would order at Cru based solely on the sommelier's raised eyebrow, and folding a Nantucket Reds sweater to Gwyneth Paltrow's exacting standards while she watches disapprovingly via Zoom.

Winners get ONE peak-hour landing slot. Per season. The rest can fly in on Tuesdays like I suggested.

My father thinks this is "a bit much." But my father also waited forty-seven minutes last Friday, so I think desperate times call for creative solutions. Richard thought it was "hilarious," though I'm not entirely sure he understood I was serious.

4. Improved FBO Amenities

If we MUST wait, at least upgrade the experience. The current lounge is fine, but "fine" isn't really the point, is it? I'm envisioning something more... club-like. Membership-based. With a sommelier.

5. A Fast-Track Ground Transportation System

Dedicated vehicles for frequent flyers. My father should not have to share a car service with someone he doesn't know. That's not why we fly private.

A Broader Point

I know some people will read this and think I'm out of touch. That I don't understand "regular" travel. That I'm complaining about problems most people would love to have.

To those people, I say: you're missing the point.

This isn't about privilege. This is about efficiency. About systems working the way they're supposed to work. About promises made and promises kept.

When you pay for a private aviation experience, you're paying for speed, convenience, and the absence of hassle. If you're getting hassle anyway, then what are you even paying for?

My father asked me that. "Trip," he said, after the forty-seven-minute incident, "what am I even paying for?"

I didn't have an answer. I still don't.

A Call to Action

To my fellow private aviation users: we need to organize. We need to make our voices heard. We need to advocate—respectfully, professionally, through the proper channels and also possibly through some of our board connections—for a better system.

Richard said he'd make some calls. My father knows some people at the FAA, or says he does. I'm going to raise this issue at the next yacht club meeting, assuming I can get it on the agenda. (They've been very focused on the dock situation lately, which, don't get me started.)

Together, we can fix this. We have to fix this. Because if we can't fly into our own summer community without waiting forty-seven minutes, then honestly, what is even the point of any of it?

My father is considering the helicopter option for the rest of the summer. It's not ideal—the helipad situation on-island is its own whole thing—but at least he wouldn't be dependent on the runway.

That's where we are now. That's what it's come to.

Something has to change.