Inbound Belize this summer, the forecast for 12 hours was entirely wrong. A rough storm moved across Mexico. We were getting hit hard and bouncing all over the sky, sometimes with the right wing flapping up 45 degrees. The rain was a bitch. I was scared to death. Devon seemed to be barely holding his own in the cockpit. Half of our passengers were thrupping in the aisle and holding on tight. I yelled at Devon, "How're you doing up there babe?" He yelled back, "After this I'm gonna need some sugar." I yelled at him again saying, "Get us on the ground baby and I will give everybody on this plane some sugar." I guess that was all that was needed. Devon changed course, the wind died out and everything settled down. When we stopped at the hanger I gave Devon what I promised right in front of everybody with a big hug and kiss, and I'll never doubt his skills again. // Cathy