They should have been more prepared.
Posted on 02/06/2005 7:41:01 PM PST by aculeus
The plane was packed when, at 17,000 feet, the windscreen blew and the captain was sucked out. Nigel Ogden, who saved him by hanging on to his legs, tells his story for the first time to Julia Llewellyn Smith.
It was like something from a disaster movie and I still find it hard to believe I was at the centre of it all. An aeroplane full of passengers, out of control at 17,000 feet, with the captain stuck outside the aircraft.
I think about what happened every day. It was Sunday June 10, 1990. It was a beautiful morning and I was up early because I was working on the British Airways 7.30am flight from Birmingham to Malaga in Spain. I was 36, had been an air steward with British Airways for 12 years, and loved my job with a passion.
I expected that day to be especially enjoyable. It was a holiday flight, so the 81 passengers would be relaxed, and the crew - Captain Tim Lancaster, stewards Simon Rogers and John Heward, and stewardess Sue Prince - had worked together, on and off, for years. The only member of the crew new to us was the co-pilot, Alistair Atcheson. The aircraft was a 43-tonne BAC 1-11, which was known as the jeep of the skies, because it was a workhorse - reliable and easy to maintain.
The flight was delayed for an hour, so I wandered up and down the plane, making sure everyone knew what was going on. Tim made an announcement - "You'll be pleased to know the weather is sunny and dry in Malaga and we should be on our way shortly." AdvertisementAdvertisement
It was 13 minutes after take-off and we had just reached 17,300 feet, 5000 feet beneath our assigned altitude. I went onto the flight deck and asked if they'd like tea. I was just stepping out, with my hand on the door handle, when there was an enormous explosion and the door was blown out of my hands. I thought, "My God. It's a bomb." Explosive decompression made the whole cabin mist up like fog for a second - then the plane started to plummet.
I whipped round and saw the front windscreen had disappeared and Tim, the pilot, was going out through it. He had been sucked out of his seatbelt and all I could see were his legs. I jumped over the control column and grabbed him round his waist to avoid him going out completely. His shirt had been pulled off his back and his body was bent upwards, doubled over round the top of the aircraft. His legs were jammed forward, disconnecting the autopilot, and the flight door was resting on the controls, sending the plane hurtling down at nearly 650kmh through some of the most congested skies in the world.
Everything was being sucked out of the aircraft: even an oxygen bottle that had been bolted down went flying and nearly knocked my head off. I was holding on for grim death but I could feel myself being sucked out, too. John rushed in behind me and saw me disappearing, so he grabbed my trouser belt to stop me slipping further, then wrapped the captain's shoulder strap around me. Luckily, Alistair, the co-pilot, was still wearing his safety harness from take-off, otherwise he would have gone, too.
The aircraft was losing height so quickly the pressure soon equalised and the wind started rushing in - at 630kmh and -17C. Paper was blowing round all over the place and it was impossible for Alistair to hear air-traffic control. We were spiralling down at 80 feet per second with no autopilot and no radio.
I was still holding on to Tim but the pressure made him weigh the equivalent of 500 pounds [about 200 kilograms]. It was a good thing I'd had so much training at rugby tackles, but my arms were getting colder and colder and I could feel them being pulled out of their sockets.
Simon came rushing through and, with John unwrapped Tim's legs and the remains of the doors from the controls, and Alistair got the autopilot back on. But he continued to increase speed, to lessen the risk of a mid-air collision and to get us down to an altitude where there was more oxygen. He dived to 11,000 feet in 2 minutes, then got the speed down to 300kmh.
I was still holding Tim, but my arms were getting weaker, and then he slipped. I thought I was going to lose him, but he ended up bent in a U-shape around the windows. His face was banging against the window with blood coming out of his nose and the side of his head, his arms were flailing and seemed about 6 feet [1.8 metres] long. Most terrifyingly, his eyes were wide open. I'll never forget that sight as long as I live.
I couldn't hold on any more, so Simon strapped himself into the third pilot's seat and hooked Tim's feet over the back of the captain's seat and held on to his ankles. One of the others said: "We're going to have to let him go." I said: "I'll never do that." I knew I wouldn't be able to face his family, handing them a matchbox and saying: "This is what is left of your husband." If we'd let go of his body, it might have got jammed in a wing or the engines.
I left Simon hanging on to Tim and staggered back into the main cabin. For a moment, I just sat totally exhausted in a jump seat, my head in my hands, then Sue came up to me, very shaken. In front of all the passengers, I put my arms around her and whispered in her ear: "I think the Captain's dead." But then I said: "Come on, love, we've got a job to do."
By now, Alistair was talking to air traffic control, who were talking him through landing at Southampton Airport. All pilot training is done on the basis of two pilots, one to fly and one doing the emergency drill, but Alistair was alone, with a crew he didn't know and relying on memory, because all the manuals and charts had blown away. He asked for a runway of 2500 metres because he was worried that the plane was so heavy with fuel, a tyre would burst or it would go off the runway, but all they could offer was 1800 metres.
Over the intercom he told the passengers we'd lost the windscreen. Some of them could see Tim out of the window but the cabin was silent as the grave. We walked up and down, preparing the passengers for an emergency landing. People gasped as they saw the blood on my face. The plane was very shuddery, very rocky. I remember one man at the very back, with a little baby on his knee, saying to me: "We're going to die," and I said, "No, we are not," lying through my teeth.
All I could see out of the windows was a line of trees, and I thought we'd either smash into those or into the housing estate beyond. I had a partner, Jean, and a stepson, Jamie, but I was thinking most about my Mum. She'd lost my brother in a car crash the year before, and I couldn't bear to think how she'd take the news. But, in spite of everything, Alistair did the most amazing landing, what we call a greaser - completely smooth and stopping the aircraft only three-quarters of the way down the runway.
There wasn't even any need to use the emergency chutes. We got all the passengers down the steps in an orderly fashion, although I did have to shout at a couple of people who were trying to get their handbags from the lockers. The whole time from the explosion to the landing had been 18 minutes, but it seemed like hours.
I got back on board to check everyone had left. The paramedics had Tim in the cockpit on a stretcher and I went in to see him.
He was lying there, covered in blood, but to my amazement I heard him say: "I want to eat." I just exclaimed: "Typical bloody pilot." Luckily, he'd been in a coma throughout the ordeal, his body had just shut down. I went out onto the front steps, and shouted at the others "He's alive!" and then I cried my eyes out. Hero came crashing down
Air steward Nigel Ogden was left with a dislocated shoulder, frostbitten face and some frostbite damage to his left eye. Amazingly, Captain Tim Lancaster suffered only frostbite, fractures to his arm and wrist and a broken thumb. Within five months he was flying again and today he's a pilot for easyJet.
Ogden returned to work after a break but suffered post-traumatic stress and took early retirement in 2001 on the grounds of ill health. He is now a night watchman at a Salvation Army hospital.
In 1992, a report was published showing that a BA engineer, working under pressure, had fitted a new windscreen with bolts that were too small.
* Top of Page
Ping.
Incredible. . .
Wow, that's interesting. I assume the writer means that passengers could see through the cockpit door.
I know I've never been able to see the nose of an airplane while seated and looking out through the window.
Bookmarked, with this.
Probably not, as early as 1990. But even ISO9000 companies make mistakes.
17,000 Feet, face outside the aircraft? I thought that, a la Payne Stewart, being that high without pressure and oxygen caused death within minutes. Could there be, at least, some exaggeration going on?
Yeah, sure.
I have inside information that he broke out the windshield because he saw a monster on the nose of the plane.
Yeah, and they've got a really good mission statement too!
So9
No, hypoxia at that altitude and velocity resulting in his passing out. Had they been stationary he probably would've had some brain damage, but at nearly 400 mph he had plenty of O2. Also, they were in a nosedive with steadily increasing oxygen.
Payne Stewart's Lear suffered decompression on its' way up to 41,000 feet, most likely through a failure of the pressurization pumps. They died because the co-pilot didn't follow the rules - one of the flight crew MUST be strapped into their seat and wearing oxygen at ALL TIMES above FL 12. (12,000' above sea level.)
What happened was: the engineer replaced the windshield and used the several same size bolts as he had removed, and also re-used some of the originals, as there weren't enough new bolts in stock.
It turned out that the bolts that were holding the windshield were 1 size smaller than the specs call for.
I saw this on the discovery channel last week. It's a truly amazing story, and there is much more to it than you can get from a 6 paragraph blurb in your local rag.
Why you punk kid! What's someone your age doing on a site like this? You're young enough to be my grandkid!
They should have been more prepared.
Learning from you.
"Why you punk kid! What's someone your age doing on a site like this? You're young enough to be my grandkid!"
To contribute to the debate from a unique perspective. I have also found that I learn as much here as in any history class.
As far as I know there is no minimum age.
BA= British Airways??
"In 1992, a report was published showing that a BA engineer, working
under pressure, had fitted a new windscreen with bolts that were too
small. "
Now why am I not surprised......
One has to be curious about the other planes who "fall out of the sky".
This is still an amazing incident, with several heroes.
Welcome to FR, kid, even if you're not exactly a newbie.
I hope some of your conservative leanings rub off on your classmates. We can use more young conservatives in CA. Gives hope that the west coast may yet turn around some day. I bet we will see you leading the charge in a few years.
So, stick around kid, the funs just startin'. Be careful though, this place can be addictive.
FReegards,
RT
As God is my witness, I thought it was going to be about Howard Dean, too!
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.