Now that time has drawn a veil over the South China Sea it can be told. A certain Captain on a flight to Hong Kong with a replacement engine decided against advice to consume a chicken curry in Penang. The following morning, apart from the usual post curry burbling he appeared alright. Some hours later into the flight as we passed our PNR for a return to Butterworth and the crit point for Clark Field, Manila the Captain went below with "tummy pains". Some time later the Loadie proclaimed the aft end of the freight bay a no-go area and could he come up on the flight deck. Shortly afterwards the phone on the para door intercom came alive and the Captain declared that he was not "very well"
Well we had a couple of hours to go so we thought that he would be delivered of the curry ere long. It was suspicious that the chicken had four legs.
Some time afterwards He appeared on the flight deck, naked apart from his flying boots and a huge blue nappy made out of kim wipe. He was a pale ethereal green colour and resembled a close approximation to the incontinent green waterfowl that wished he could fly. Well he couldn't and neither could C*** K*** who suddenly hugged his belly and a fearsome stench pervaded the flight deck. I was on oxygen and it still got through. He fled below and we decided to divert. To the left was Viet Nam. Still not good then. Brunei was too far so we called Clark. There is a sudden tropical storm advancing from the east, they said. It will be over us in one hour and Hong Kong in three. Just on our ETA. Well it looked like we would have to press on. Can you set up the Cheung Chow, Stone Cutters, IGS for a landing on 13 the come up and sit in the Captain's chair to hold the tiller said the Co.
Er No I said, too many switch overs. I can come up at the chequer board.
That's too late he said.
As the wind increased to 40 kts from the east and the cloud rolled in we did the only option remaining.
Put out a Mayday call for priority landing against the traffic onto RWY 31. We came in lowlevel past Tathong Point NDB so we could see the sea and with me doing my first landing in the captain's seat, kept the right wing down till we were over the runway. The Meat Wagon rushed Orville off to hospital with his passport tucked in his nappy - a new one with puzzled expressions.
Lots of San Migs later we felt good enough to phone to ask if he was O.K.
