They say that we're living in the Information Age these days. (They? I mean the smart folks). The Knowledge Economy. Knowledge is power. Roger Waters may have asked in 1987's hit-and-miss effort Radio KAOS 'Who Needs Information?', but it seems that we all, like Johnny 5, 'need input', and that that input can make not a lot of people a whole lot of money. While the Big Bad World out there might try and tell us that there is no point in searching for absolute truth, it is certainly encouraging us to fill our mind wheelbarrows full to overflowing with pointless trivia. Television, radio, films, magazines, Internet are all supplying it by the bucketload - the cultural plethora is, truly, a veritable one. Well, fear not dear reader because I'm here to provide you with even more of it here at NOMW.
For those of you who may find yourselves from time to time perusing the vast expanses of pap on cable television's less prestige channels, or failing that ITV's interminable Grandstand-busting Saturday afternoon fare ('Hollywood's Greatest Stuntmasters' anyone?), you may be aware of a programme called 'Ripley's Believe It Or Not' presented by Dean 'Superman' Cain. Well, if you are, then this little column follows much the same principle, but without the 'atmospheric' tracking camera shots of the Cainster in a smoke filled studio, more's the pity. And now, with just a little more ado, let's get to our first 'amazing' story.
Passenger 57. Executive Decision (yes, the one where a top-billed Steven Segal dies in the opening scene - I'm still waiting for my refund Warner Brothers). Airforce One. Con 'put the bunny back in the box' Air. Turbulence. And even (to a lesser extent) Turbulence 2. There can surely be no doubt that some of the finest pieces of sophisticated, thought-provoking Cinéma vérité have emerged out of the dramatic set-up of the airplane in crisis. But what happens when there is no Snipes, Russell, Cage, Liota or even the good ol' Mr President himself to save the day? Step forward the intrepid crew of BA flight 5390. (Actually, that sounds more like a Michael Buerk lead-in for a 999 story. Remember that guy who somehow managed to get a javelin through his neck? And how they'd always try and justify their weekly celebration of all things tragic by including adverts for first aid courses? You weren't fooling no one, Buerky). Those were the days. Anyhow, that's the ado taken care of, so let's get to it.
1990. The Berlin wall has just fallen. Iraq invades Kuwait. Italy plays host to the most boring football tournament ever staged. James 'Buster' Douglas knocks out 'Iron' Mike Tyson in Tokyo. At the Toronto Skydome, Hulk Hogan squares off against the Ultimate Warrior in the 'Ultimate Challenge'. Hibs win the Tennents' Sixes. Anyway, even with all this going on, it was just another June morning for the 81 passengers, 4 cabin crew and 2 flight crew on the BA flight 5390 from Birmingham to Malaga. You've seen the films - there's the lovely old couple (she's scared of flying), the young child playing with the toy plane, the amorous couple, the off-duty cop/naval officer/anti-terrorist officer/fireman/soldier heading back to his young wife and child, and the faceless extras. Good grief, that's some fine scene-setting even if I do say so myself. And now, like the lazy hack that I am, I'll let Wikipedia pick up the story:
At 7:33 AM, the cabin crew had begun to prepare for meal service. The plane had climbed to 17,300 feet, and was moving over Didcot, Oxfordshire. Suddenly, passengers heard a loud bang, and the fuselage quickly filled with condensation. The left windshield, located on the commander's side of the cockpit, had suffered a catastrophic failure. Tim Lancaster (the captain) was jerked out of his seat by the rushing air and blown head first out of the cockpit; however, his knees had snagged onto the flight controls. The door to the flight deck was blown out onto the radio and navigation console, while papers and other debris in the passenger cabin began blowing towards the cockpit. On the flight deck at the time, flight attendant Nigel Ogden quickly latched his hands onto the commander's belt. Susan Price and another male flight attendant began to reassure passengers, secure loose objects, and take up emergency positions.
It was immediately apparent that the aircraft had suffered an explosive decompression, so the copilot began an emergency descent, re-engaged the temporarily disabled autopilot, and broadcast a distress call. Due to the rushing air on the flight deck, Atchison was unable to hear the response from air traffic control. The difficulty in establishing two-way communication indirectly led to a delay in British Airways being informed of the emergency and consequently delayed the implementation of the British Airways Emergency Procedure Information Centre plan.
Ogden, still latched onto Lancaster, had begun to suffer from frostbite, bruising, and exhaustion. He was relieved by the remaining two flight attendants. However, by this time, Lancaster had already shifted an additional 6 to 8 inches out the window. From the flight deck, the flight and cabin crew were able to view his head and torso through the left direct vision window.
The co-pilot eventually received clearance from air traffic control to land in Southampton, while the flight attendants managed to free and hold onto Lancaster's ankles for the remainder of the flight. By 7:55 AM, the aircraft had landed safely on Runway 02 in Southampton Airport. Passengers immediately disembarked from the front and rear stairs, and emergency crews retrieved Lancaster, who incredibly had suffered only minor injuries.
The
first-hand account of this incident is incredible, and this one, from the Sydney Morning Herald, has one of my favourite photos ever - in my opinion it sums up the indomitable British spirit better than any amount of pseudo-intellectual sociological musing could ever hope to do. Btw, for those of you who despair over the state of contemporary print journalism, give the SMH a try. They have a tendency to give more column inches to alternative news stories than your average rag, and more importantly can always be relied upon to supply fabulous punnage in their headlines, this story being no exception.
Well, that's all for now. If your appetite for the quirky and inane has been only temporarily satisfied, then please come back here again soon for the next installment. Any positive feedback is gratefully received. Any negative feedback should be considered misguided and, hence, remain suitably undisclosed. Peace out.
