African Sunrise
By Mitch Stirling (Air Rhodesia)
Captain Roy Downes has been recording his memoirs in a book called
"African Sunrise." It spans a wonderful career in aviation, from the
grauncher's bench at Central African Airways to senior captain and
training instructor on the Air Zimbabwe Boeing 707s. An excerpt
follows:
African Sunrise
My most memorable flight was a charter flight to Perth, Australia. Apart from it being the longest flight I have ever made there were a number of other factors I recall which are perhaps worthy of note. The purpose of the charter flight was to collect the returning Zimbabwean Athletics team from the 1982 Commonwealth Games in Brisbane. The nine hours forty minutes to Perth was uneventful and because of the prevailing westerly winds and a near empty aircraft, fuel required was not a problem. However, because of these strong westerly upper winds, fuel for the return flight was going to be quite critical.
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707-330B engines. |
"I’m afraid you can’t stay here!"
"Why ever not?" I queried.
"Well it’s these black women… we can’t have them here."
"This booking was made weeks ago," I reminded him, "what did you
expect from Zimbabwe?"
The manager, who had probably never heard of Zimbabwe, looked
suitably abashed and proceeded to his office; I assume he went to
consult a higher authority. After about ten minutes he returned and
reluctantly agreed to our staying in his Inn.
We were scheduled to spend two nights in Perth awaiting the return
of our aircraft, but on the afternoon of day two there was a knock
on my hotel room door and I was met by a very weepy deputation of
black girls. When I asked what the problem was they tearfully
exclaimed,
"Captain we want to go home now… today. We do not want to spend
another day here."
They went on to say that they were used to shopping anywhere in apartheid Johannesburg and Durban, and had never had a problem or been treated the way they had been in Perth.
They went on to say that they were used to shopping anywhere in apartheid Johannesburg and Durban, and had never had a problem or been treated the way they had been in Perth.
"Captain, they chase us out of every place we go to and we cannot
even buy our meals."
I managed to calm them down, reminding them we did not have an
aircraft to get us back to Harare. For the remainder of our stay
they accompanied me and the other crew members to purchase food. At
a fast food outlet, I witnessed them being refused admittance. My
co-pilot, John Reid-Rowland and I had to purchase the food, which we
all ate sitting on a low wall outside the establishment. This,
apparently, was acceptable.
On the flight to Perth we had experienced 110 knot tail winds which did not bode well for the return trip. In order to have the maximum fuel for the Perth/Harare sector, the incoming crew tankered fuel from Brisbane, arriving at the maximum landing weight of 112 tonnes. The cold soaking of the fuel between Brisbane and Perth enabled us to uplift sufficient for the return flight, as the colder the fuel the higher the specific gravity and therefore the greater the number of British Thermal Units (BTU) per pound of fuel. Colder fuel takes up less volume than warmer fuel, so that allowed us to load a greater volume of fuel [very technical stuff this].
On the flight to Perth we had experienced 110 knot tail winds which did not bode well for the return trip. In order to have the maximum fuel for the Perth/Harare sector, the incoming crew tankered fuel from Brisbane, arriving at the maximum landing weight of 112 tonnes. The cold soaking of the fuel between Brisbane and Perth enabled us to uplift sufficient for the return flight, as the colder the fuel the higher the specific gravity and therefore the greater the number of British Thermal Units (BTU) per pound of fuel. Colder fuel takes up less volume than warmer fuel, so that allowed us to load a greater volume of fuel [very technical stuff this].
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Derek Warner's memo. |
The flight as far as Mauritius was uneventful, although the upper
winds, which were right on the nose, were never less than 110 knots.
Over MRU, in the dark, we had only twenty-one tonnes remaining and
here the blackmail came into its own. The thought of one hundred and
sixty odd bodies stuck at Mauritius for twenty four hours, without
accommodation, had little appeal. According to the forecast there
was no weather to worry about and, as we approached the coast of
Africa, the winds were supposed to back to a southerly direction,
resulting in a better ground speed. I thought I would chance it.
Some time after leaving the Mauritian funk-hole far behind, distant
flashes appeared on the horizon over the African coast. "What do
think that is, captain?" This query was from the rather incredulous
co-pilot. "Perth said there’d be no weather." He had yet to learn
that long range forecasts, based on suspect data from Africa, are
often somewhat erroneous. "Perhaps the Mozambique war has restarted
and maybe that’s only gunfire?" I suggested.
As we approached the coast, the wind did back and the groundspeed
improved considerably. But the radar quickly disabused us of the
gunfire idea. We were heading toward a solid line of cunims. At our
cruising level they were not a problem, although it meant dodging
around the cloud tops, adding to our fuel burn. Our fuel endurance
at take-off was twelve hours and twenty minutes and, after six long
hours with a 110 knot headwind right on the nose, our flight time
was going to be at least eleven hours and forty minutes. At the
pre-flight briefing in Harare, I had been told that at the top of
descent (TOD) point, I would probably have to decide whether to go
to Bulawayo or Harare, depending on the weather. There would be no
alternate fuel. At TOD, our radar indicated that the Perth forecast
could not have been less accurate and there was little to choose
between the routes to either destination. There were lines of storms
ahead of us, no matter which way we went.
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![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4YPwcqrmDU5UEzbaiGz_GFNYtOKmazalpi2IUT2S_FAIviwXDgCGrco9HqNDOsoH_cvFxxml1Z-nxhusGlevGECPRCU0_lEsAyGWhQEaRTwoI6_UAXNQGGGKDKh6QaCTTEfkCIvAyKmFZ/s1600/Ph+7+TS+at+night+from+707.jpg)
I chose Harare, only to find a final cumulonimbus sitting on the right-hand base leg for runway 06, eagerly awaiting our arrival! However, with the ILS functioning for a change, we landed safely. The B707 was comparatively easy to land, but no matter how smooth the touch down, one was always aware of when the wheels touched the runway. Not so that night. I was unsure as to whether we were on the runway or not and had no idea of what to do next. As it happened, we were rolling on tarmac; it was a "greaser", right out of the top drawer, but probably no more than an absolute stroke of luck. The passengers ignored the "Fasten Seatbelt" sign and gave the arrival a standing ovation. It was a flight of which I am inordinately proud, although the applause was probably only at the relief of being back on terra-firma. Or, as my long departed mother who detested flying used to say, "The more firmer the less terror."
We had been airborne for eleven hours and forty minutes and had thirty five minutes fuel remaining. It was the one and only time I had neither alternate nor contingency fuel reserves.
We had been airborne for eleven hours and forty minutes and had thirty five minutes fuel remaining. It was the one and only time I had neither alternate nor contingency fuel reserves.
Plane spotters:
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VP-WKU at Frankfurt. |
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"Bird Strike" Jean Dodd and Elly van Duren. |
End
Thanks to
Mitch for sharing this article with ORAFs.
Comments are always welcome, please mail them to Eddy Norris at orafs11@gmail.com
(Please visit our previous posts and archives
Ref. Rhodesia
Ref. Rhodesia
Labels: air zimbabwe, Aviation, stirling downes
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