A TALE FROM A LONG TIME AGO
On the morning of November 15th 1967 I was tasked with operating the scheduled TAA flight from Port Moresby to Misma, with a stop at Gurney.
Misima is a volcanic island in the northwest of the Louisiade Archipelago, within the Milne Bay Province of Papua New Guinea and some 2hrs 50mins flight time in the DHC-6 Twin Otter which I was flying at the time.
The island measures 40 km by 10 km and back in 67, prior to the discovery of gold, was a fairly sleepy place. It had a short crushed coral airstrip and the weekly air service from Port Moresby was mostly to service the patrol post and the area administration center that was based there.
At that time TAA (Trans Australia Airlines) was one of the first operators of the Twotter which was flown as a single pilot IFR operation in a nineteen seat configuration thereby avoiding the need for a cabin attendant.
On checking the NOTAMS for the flight, my attention was drawn to a report of an inter-island cargo ship the “Bev” which had been reported as foundering in a recent tropical storm and pilots of aircraft operating in the area were asked to maintain a look out for possible survivors.
The area given was between Gurney and Misima, and decided to fly this segment lower than normal and check out the uninhabited islands along, and to the south of my track, briefing my passengers accordingly and asking them to act as observers.
Being unsuccessful on the outbound leg I repeated the exercise for the return trip, but this time taking a more northerly route to examine some islands that lay on that side of the direct track. Sure enough passing over the uninhabited island of “Bunora” - not much more than a sand cay - six survivors were sighted, one of whom lay immobile on the sand.
After making a couple of low passes to check out the logistics of the island, and the condition of the survivors it was clear that their situation was not good. The island was void of any useful vegetation, or signs of fresh water and the immobile person were obviously seriously injured. As I climbed away to continued the flight to Gurney I passed this information to Port Moresby on H.F.
Moresby acknowledged the information and advised that due to a lack of suitable aviation resources being available it would be some time before a sea rescue could be organised. My thoughts immediately turned to the Esky full of sandwiches and soft drink sitting down the back of the aircraft – in flight catering - which so far had been untouched by the passengers – and how I could get it to the survivors.
By the time we landed at Gurney a plan had been conceived…
With the unanimous support of the passengers the Esky and its contents along with any other suitable items that we could add would be air-dropped to the survivors.
Having completed our preparations, refuelled, and with the small baggage loading door removed we headed back to Bunora Island to complete the mission, which went off without a hitch.
Mission accomplished and with a last wave to the survivors it was back up to cruise level for the return to Port Moresby.
By the end of the day I had logged just under eight hours of total flight time and felt very satisfied with what had been achieved.
The Sequel:
Many years later – now a check pilot on the B-747 – I was enjoying a sun-downer at the Changi sailing Club in Singapore and was approached by a fellow aviator who wanted to introduce me to a friend who was accompanying him. The friend turned out to be the captain of the Bev, one of the survivors from Bunora Island who insisted on buying me dinner.
As he put it, “You bought the last one.”
Last edited by Exaviator; 27th Feb 2017 at 03:28.
Reason: Correcting typos