The turbulence didn’t worry Ray. His mate Bill had told him years ago that bumping over air pockets in the sky was the same as bumping over pot holes on a bush road. However that persistent knocking in the right engine did have him a little rattled.
He distracted himself by looking out onto the magnificent, whiter than white, mile high cumulous clouds. It always felt magical to glide in and out of these billowing monoliths.
“Hello everyone, sorry about this but we have a problem with the right engine. I feel the safest course would be to make an emergency landing. So can I ask you all to keep an eye out for a dirt road or even a clearing so we can put down.
“Jesus!” “Can’t rely on him I’m afraid.” She let them know in Darwin that she was attempting an emergency landing as soon as it was safe to do so.
It wasn’t long before one of the four passengers in the six-seater, twin-engined Cessna called out. All Ray could see out of the left was trees, mangroves and a river. “Over to the right there is a clearing”. “Got it” said the pilot reassuringly calm.
It was a very bumpy landing but to the credit of the young pilot she kept the plane on an even keel and pulled up safely before the bush started again. Unfortunately the radio no longer worked. The pilot assumed wires had been dislodged in the heavy landing.
They all climbed out not sure whether they felt elated that they had landed safely or distressed that they were in the middle of nowhere, with a buggered plane.
“Who are we going to eat first?”, some bright spark said. “You, ya clown”, replied Ray.
“Ok, we need to get our ducks in a row if we are going to get out of this as quickly as possible. We are not far off our flight path so they will start looking for us along that corridor. Could you all start collecting fire wood. Some small kindling and some larger stuff so we can build up some decent fires to light if we hear an aircraft.
Ray looked at his phone optimistically but “no service” was all he got for his trouble. He headed off in search for fire wood. As he hauled the wood back towards the group he noticed a tortoise lumbering through the grass. Amazing, he thought to himself, you are just going about your business here, able to survive quite happily in what we see as a hostile environment and we won’t last at all unless we get help.
They worked together to build four fires at the four corners of the clearing to let any searcher know the size of the landing space. Although a search plane wouldn’t land here after dark it could mark the location and note the dimensions of the landing area for a morning rescue. The fires would also indicate survivors rather than bodies.
As the sun started to set each of the five found a spot to rest, some in the plane others on the ground. Ray had just put his head down on his briefcase when he thought he saw lights at the far end of the clearing. He sat up quickly. They definitely were lights and he could now make out a Toyota heading straight for them.
A tall man stepped out of the truck with a huge smile on his face. “I thought I heard a plane in trouble. So I thought I better have a look. I knew this clearing was here so I thought I’d try here first. My outstation is just an hour or so south of here and we have a radio. So jump on and come back with me. We can contact Darwin and you can all have a drink and a feed.” “Thank you”, they chorused and climbed up on the truck.
In the jargon of all pilots and with enormous relief in her voice, the young pilot shouted, “Thank Foxtrot, Uniform, Charlie, Kilo, for the outstation movement”.