okay, story time.
So there we were, out over the PAC at 1500', wind shear like you'd never believe +/- 500' and +/- 40kts of airspeed constantly. We were shaking like a cat s*tting on a sheet of ice. It was bad, it was awful. But, being the 3P on the crew and having planned a magnificent meal of blueberry pancakes, fruit and whipped cream topping, breakfast sausage, and fresh french roast coffee, i was not deterred. I HAD A MISSION!
Now, the galley in the P-3 is in the back, right under our HUGE vert stab. If you even look at the rudders you throw people around back there. In these conditions we were bouncing around like teenagers on crack. Never the less, I push forward, summoned all my courage and intestinal fortitude (i occasionally get airsick unless i'm in the flight station) and I cooked. It was epic. I should gotten a medal! The griddle was 400 degrees of pure hell. The 1950's convection oven howled like a wolf in heat. The coffee maker was spilling liquid hot...liquid...everywhere. I was burned, scalded, but I never quit! I served that meal!