Just Like In the Movies
Paula and I took a vacation one winter in San Juan, P.R. We decided to take an excursion trip to do some shopping in St. Thomas. The hotel travel agent arranged our transportation to the airport. Two types of planes were available for us. One was a turboprop that held eight passengers. That was our first choice. The other was an old DC-3. Since there was a party of eight that was together who wanted the turboprop, we were had Hobson’s choice, which means no choice at all.
I had read all about how DC-3’s were the most dependable plane ever built and how they were able to fly over the hump of Burma with one engine operating carrying a full cargo during World War two. This was to supply to supply General Stillwell’s troops fighting the Japanese. Our plane held 23 passengers and a young pilot and flight attendant. When we were airborne on the way to St. Thomas we had noticed the aircraft carrier U.S.S.America was in port. St. Thomas was teeming with many very young sailors. Their general deportment was not the best, but they must have just been at sea for awhile and were letting off steam.
We went shopping all day even though St. Thomas was seedy looking compared to how it used to be, before the drug era.
I was particularly happy to buy a sweater from Hilda of Iceland that was made of Icelandic wool known for its exceptional warmth. I had desired one for some time after having seen one that a relative had. We had two full shopping bags after some successful shopping.
At the appointed hour we took off to return to San Juan. We were airborne for about five minutes when Paula my wife who was sitting near the window exclaimed to me, “Oh look, just like in the movies, the propeller is going in slow motion.” I looked and said, “My God, don’t you see the black smoke; the engine is on fire.” The pilot had “feathered” the engine. I saw the pilot jabbering away on the radio in rapid fire Spanish as he was pulling on a stick between the two seats in the cockpit. He was spraying powder or foam from a built in fire extinguisher onto the fire. He was not having great success at that point. I thought to myself that if we crash landed on the water and survived that my new sweater from Hilda of Iceland would shrink and be good enough for our future grandson.
. The pilot turned the plane around and I wondered if he was going to try and land on the aircraft carrier which was now at sea. I did not think at the time that DC-3’s were not designed for aircraft carriers, nor did they have a tail hook. Surely our young pilot was not trained for such things. I realized that in retrospect, much after the event.
The pilot announced that everything was under control, that he had shut down one engine and that we were returning to the airport. The fire seemed to be out even though the engine was still smoking black smoke. He said we could fly safely to Puerto Rico but even “though I am a little crazy, I am not stupid.” So like the coffee commercial where one pilot says to the other, “we forgot the Savarin”, the pilot turned around. We were later told that we had popped an engine rivet and the fuel was igniting on the hot propellor engine.
I said to Paula, it is amazing how calm everyone was. There was no time to do anything except sit still and listen to the usual instructions from the stewardess that we have all seen in every type of scarem’ airplane movie. We soon saw the airport coming into view and all the lime green fire engines racing down either side of the runway. They were followed by several ambulances trailing behind. We had a perfectly safe landing and were told where to wait until another DC-3 was available to continue back to San Juan.
Only after we went to the bathroom to empty our bladders did I begin to realize the enormity of the situation and of what could have been. We felt ourselves trembling until we got on the next plane and felt like the fellow who fellow off the horse and got right back on again. I said now we have a story to tell our grandchildren. Little did I know that I had a topic for an essay in case some year we move to Florida and I join the writers group!
