Dear Reader #2: We Have a Small Problem…
As I soldier on through rewriting The Telford Liar (a mix of reassessing character motivations and frantically looking up when Kleenex was first packaged in boxes), I find respite in reading. Recently, I’ve been slowly working my way through Federico García Lorca’s body of poetry, but this week, an exciting development in my hunt for vintage books has unfolded…
I’ve been weirdly into airplane disasters for the past few months, and one story that popped up on my radar is that of British Airways Flight 009. En route from Kuala Lumpur to Perth, the Boeing 747 encountered strange lights dancing along the windscreen and wings before all four engines abruptly surged and flamed out. The pilots had less than half an hour to restart them before colliding into the mountains ahead; miraculously, they got all four running and even made a safe landing at Halim Airport despite struggling with a sandblasted windscreen and faulty instruments on the ground. An investigation revealed that the plane had unknowingly flown through the ash cloud of an erupting Mt. Galunggung—an unforeseen event, as the weather briefing didn’t include the eruption, the crew couldn’t see the plume in the dark night, and dry volcanic ash doesn’t appear on weather radar meant to detect water droplets. The flight crew received numerous awards for their level-headed problem solving, as did the cabin crew for keeping the passengers calm, even as smoke filled the cabin, lights flickered, and a crash-landing at sea seemed all but inevitable.
It’s a thrilling tale with a happy ending, the kind of event you’d expect someone to write a book about. Turns out, someone did—one of the passengers, Betty Tootell (later Betty Ferguson). After deciding that someone ought to write a book about the experience, Tootell took up the challenge, tracked down about 200 of her fellow passengers, and compiled their testimony along with crew accounts and investigation reports in her 1985 memoir, All Four Engines Have Failed.
Unfortunately, while looking for a copy, I discovered that it was no longer in print. Thus, I began my mad hunt for a used copy that wouldn’t bleed me dry—a herculean task, since all I could find were either American sellers charging 90 bucks for a 208 page paperback, or international booksellers with reasonable prices but exorbitant shipping fees (it’s expensive to ship something from New Zealand to the USA, turns out). Almost a month ago, I managed to snag a copy for less than $20 that shipped domestically, and waited with bated breath as the estimated delivery date came and went. Suddenly fearing that I’d been scammed by some flourishing network out to get gullible fans of air disaster incunabula, I was relieved when my copy finally arrived on Monday.
At 208 info-rich pages, it’s a quick enough read if you have the day to yourself. Perhaps some style revision could have helped the beginning not feel so slow, but granted, Tootell is an aviation consultant, not a novelist, so I can forgive some stylistic hiccups in the service of the wild recounting of the events on board. I can only describe everyone’s reactions as the most quintessentially stiff-upper-lip English attitude—just keep calm, carry on, tell your passengers it’s only a minor hiccup and would they please remain in their seats.
While you’re here, have some choice quotes.
Upon first seeing the engines surging in the cabin:
Without knowing really why he did it, [Mike Valentine-Smith] at once introduced himself [to his neighbors], and they exchanged names. Perhaps all felt a need for closer companionship in this time of crisis. Perhaps, somehow, it even seemed indecent to die without knowing one another’s name. (Tootell 50)
This beautiful headache of SFO Greaves’ first attempt to contact ATC (I mean, how could you even respond to that?):
Roger Greaves made urgent contact with Jakarta Area Control Centre on radio ferquency 120.9 MHz. Using the airline’s call sign and flight number he called: ‘Mayday, Mayday, Mayday. Speedbird 9. We have lost all four engines. Out of 370.’ Jakarta ACC replied, ‘Speedbird Nine, have you got a problem?’
Controlling his frustration, the First Officer tried again… Jakarta ACC misheard, or misconstrued the message, and replied, ‘Speedbird Nine. You have lost number four engine?’
For SFO Greaves it was total exasperation. He turned aside to his Captain and exploded, ‘The f*** [sic] twit doesn’t understand!’ (57)
Tootell and her mother’s own reactions to the ordeal:
During one of the periods when the lights were on, the tall, fair-haired Purser strolled down the aisle alongside us, smiling cheerfully.
‘Are you two ladies all right?’ he asked nonchalantly.
I moved my [oxygen] mask to the side. ‘Yes, we’re fine thanks,” I lied, smiling back at him, and lifting an acknowledging left hand. … It seemed more like a game of bluff and counter-bluff, each wondering to what extent the other knew that something was seriously, desperately wrong, and each trying to conceal the fact from the other. (103)
And though it’s already infamous, one can’t talk about BA009 without mentioning the glorious understatement that is Captain Eric Moody’s first announcement to the passengers, minutes into the disaster:
‘Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. We have a small problem. All four engines have stopped. We are doing our damnedest to get them going again. I trust you are not in too much distress.’ (109)
Later followed by:
‘Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. We seem to have overcome that problem…’ (137)
And finally, the troubles not even being over once engine power was restored:
Then, at last, the aircraft approached Halim Airport. It was difficult to see anything at all.
A black hole at the best of times, thought Captain Moody, but now it’s like trying to negotiate your way up a badger’s ass! (142)
And we haven’t mentioned the one passenger who narrowly escaped getting wrapped up in gang activity after landing in Jakarta, the Polish passengers not formally allowed into the country due to a lack of diplomatic relations, or the delightful post-script years after publication that Tootell went on to marry James Ferguson in 1993, a fellow passenger she had befriended, after his wife passed away. Nothing like the feeling of certain death to bring you together. On a sweeter note, Captain Moody would later form the Galunggung Gliding Club for all the passengers and crew, with reunions regularly being held around the world.
If you somehow manage to get your hands on a copy of All Four Engines Have Failed, I recommend you check it out. Probably the perfect book for a long flight, come to think of it…
Anyways, back to rewrite hell for me. (And for the record, yes, Kleenex came in boxes by the 1940s. Very vital information for this single throwaway line.) I’ll see you next week, dear readers!
-Noga
Works Cited:
“All Engines Failed!” Mature Times, 2 July 2007, maturetimes.co.uk/node/1847. Internet Archive, 24 January 2009, https://web.archive.org/web/20090124235355/http://www.maturetimes.co.uk/node/1847.
Tootell, Betty. ‘All Four Engines Have Failed’; The True and Triumphant Story of Flight BA009 and the ‘Jakarta Incident.’ Pan Books, 1986.
