Surfing Dude

by Ed Nelson

  I asked Mr. Sinatra if he had a song in mind.

  “I was thinking of a remake of The Coffee Song or maybe High Hopes.”

  “I’m not familiar with either of them.”

  “Not to worry, they are easy songs to do.”

  Mr. Baxter was with me, so I asked him if he would take care of the details. Of course he agreed. Mr. Sinatra gave him his agents contact number and they were to work out the details. I was surprised on how much money I had ended up making on my last foray with Brothers. It was fun to do and I would continue until someone realized I couldn’t sing.

  Mr. Sinatra told us about a funny conversation he had with Judge Smails, the Judge thought he could get Sinatra to get some heavies after me. Mr. Sinatra told him that there was no one heavier than my godfather. Of course Smails bit and asked which gang leader that was. Franks answer ended the conversation quickly. Frank told me he was a little disappointed because he never got to mention my godmother.

  As we were leaving I noticed several people had been eavesdropping, so I knew it would be in the scandal sheets. I made a mental note to tell Susan about it on our flight.

  When I got home after dinner I didn’t feel like hitting the books so I watched TV with my parents. When I said good night I realized I had no idea what had been on the boob tube.

  Chapter 36

  Saturday I passed on my workout, I had to leave for the airport at 4:00 am to make a 6:00 am flight east. I was able to doze off in the limo, but it wasn’t deep sleep. There were no problems getting checked in and boarding for my first class seat. Susan was waiting for me at the check-in counter. She had our first class boarding passes in hand for TWA flight 160. The Today Show had paid for these.

  There were only several other people in first class so there were ten vacant seats. The copilot was standing in the doorway to greet passengers along with a stewardess. I must have been really gawking into the cockpit because he asked me if I wanted a look. I jumped at the opportunity. With my interest in flying of course I wanted to see the cockpit.

  When I told him I had my student’s license and had soloed I became a member of the fraternity. He and the pilot both whose name I missed welcomed me and gave me an extensive tour of all those gauges and instruments. I came to the conclusion that as long as nothing mechanically went wrong a person could keep track of what was going on. It was when those lights went red the excitement started.

  I was amazed at all the gauges and dials. One thing puzzled me; there was a pilot and copilot, but no flight engineer even though there was a seat for one. I asked about that and found out a flight engineer was only required for flights which were more than eight hours in the air. As we were doing a stop in Cincinnati, Ohio we weren’t required to have one. I asked how that worked for them and was told that it wasn’t a problem. Even on the long hauls flight engineers had less and less to do all the time.

  The copilot thought with the advent of transistor radios that radio needs on aircraft would change dramatically. He figured that on the overseas routes they wouldn’t even need a Navigator using a sextant to keep track of where they were headed.

  I took one last look at the instruments and was glad that I would not have to fly this bird.

  When I returned to my seat Susan teased me about flying the plane. I shook my head and told her that I would need many years training to do so and really wasn’t that heavy into it. Changing the subject I brought her up to-date on my conversation with Mr. Sinatra. She told me that she would get in touch with Mr. Baxter as soon as we landed in New York.

  While the coach passengers were boarding our stewardess asked us what we would like to drink. I had a Coke, Susan asked for a Mimosa. I had to ask what that was, turned out it was champagne and orange juice. While she was serving us, the stewardess told us that very soon there would be in flight movies for long flights. Susan thought that amazing and wondered if they would ever have telephones. I thought they would someday, but it would be far in the future.

  The take-off was amazing to me, it took such a long runway to rollout, I was used to my little plane; this was a whole different ballgame. Landing this thing must be a trip.

  We were no sooner up in the air and the stewardess was preparing breakfast. The menu gave a choice of Eggs Benedict or French toast, along with orange juice, coffee or tea. Susan and I choose the French toast. I noticed that one of the stewardesses and the guys up front took Eggs Benedict. I wondered if after I finished my French toast if I could beg for a serving of Eggs Benedict.

  Apparently not, TWA seemed to have a firm one passenger one meal policy. Oh well, we would have lunch before landing in Cincinnati. It would be a small filet so I would probably make it to New York. Maybe they would have a meal on that leg of the trip.

  We had been in the air about two hours when the copilot made a quick trip to the restroom. I say quick and I mean quick; he looked desperate. Next thing you know the pilot is standing at the restroom door urging him to hurry up. A quick change took place and they returned to the cockpit. In another five minutes they were both out again. Except this time the pilot got to the restroom first.

  The copilot went to the galley and was throwing up in a bin. The pilot came out but turned right around again for the restroom. In the meantime the copilot obviously had uncontrollable diarrhea. He was doubled over in pain. The smell was awful. The head stewardess helped him to a seat where he promptly passed out.

  She next checked on the pilot. He was unconscious in the restroom. I helped her bring him out to a seat. To put it mildly it was a stinking mess.

  In the meantime the head stewardess got on the public announcement system and asked if there was a Physician on board; if so push the button for help. There were two responses. Soon two Doctors were escorted up front. One was a general practitioner and the other a surgeon. They both quickly agreed that it was food poisoning. This was no sooner said than one of the other stewardesses rushed to the restroom, she had the Eggs Benedict.

  As a thought was going through my head it was confirmed by a request for any pilots or aircrew to ring their call buttons. There were no dings or red lights on. It dawned on me that I may be the only one on board that had ever been at the instruments of an aircraft. Talk about a sinking feeling in your stomach.

  I identified myself to the head stewardess as a student pilot who had soloed. She gave me a piercing look and said, “You’re all we’ve got.”

  Talk about the pressure.

  We went into the cockpit which I had been a tourist earlier in the day. Now it was mine. I hadn’t eaten Eggs Benedict, but had a desire to go to the restroom. I managed to overcome that to take a closer look at the pilot’s seat and the controls. At least we were at cruising altitude and on autopilot.

  I went back to the Doctors who were tending their three patients. Not that there was much to do, as all three were unconscious. I asked how long before one of the pilots might be conscious and able to help me. Both had very bleak looks as I was told they had no idea. Whatever poisoned them was extremely serious.

  From the noise in the back end you could tell people knew something was going on and they were getting worked up. I signaled the head stewardess to come with me.

  “Do you know anything about the radios,” I asked Sara. I knew she was Sara because of her nametag.

  “A little bit, I have watched them many times.”

  “Okay, you are now my copilot.” She made the sign of the cross and said, “Okay.”

  We sat down in our respective seats. At least the pilots didn’t mess them up. We buckled up, adjusting our straps and put on the headphones. After fiddling for a minute we had them set correctly so we could talk to each other and use the radio at its current settings.

  Reading from a card set in front of the radio, I made a call.

  “This is TWA flight 160 tail number N742TW declaring an inflight emergency.” I repeated this twice and then waited.

  Almost immediately there was a reply.

  “TWA 160
what is the nature of your emergency?”

  “The pilot and copilot are both unconscious, suspected food poisoning. Physicians on board are not optimistic.”

  “Please reconfirm, pilot and copilot are unconscious.”

  “That is correct.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Richard Jackson, a student pilot who has soloed.”

  “TWA 160 this is FAA TRACON, what is your flight status?”

  “We are on autopilot, bound to Cincinnati, Ohio with probably a lot of fuel as we are only one and half hours out.”

  “TWA 160, DO NOT, REPEAT; DO NOT TOUCH THE AUTOPILOT.”

  “Roger flight control, not touching the autopilot.” There is no way in the world I was going to mess with the autopilot.

  “TWA 160, go to radio channel 121.50000 MHz Repeat 121.50000.”

  “Roger going to channel 121.50000 MHz.” From my studies I knew this was the VHF Guard channel for emergencies. They wanted us to go to this channel while they sorted things out. Every aircraft and scanner in the area could hear us. Most of them would monitor the new channel, but it would free up the main channel for normal business. That seemed a little cold, but they had a whole lot of aircraft to keep out of trouble.

  Sara had been paying attention as she adjusted one of the radios to the correct frequency.

  “This is TWA 160 on Guard channel.”

  “Roger TWA 160, we are contacting your company. In the meantime do not touch the autopilot.” I got the impression he really didn’t want me to touch the autopilot. That worked for me.

  The people in the back had to be going crazy. I got on the in plane radio and announced.

  “Ladies and gentleman, there is an inflight problem. The pilot has suffered food poisoning. He is receiving medical care; we are currently in contact with FAA TRACON who will direct us to the nearest safe landing.”

  Since I had seen several Latino’s board the aircraft I repeated the message in Spanish. Odds are they spoke English, but it was easy to do, and might forestall problems. I also asked again if there was anyone else on board with flying experience. No one came forward.

  I was not about to tell everyone that both the pilot and copilot were unconscious. Panic would ensue with that information. Time enough for panic later.

  “Sara, have someone stationed at the rear of first class and do not let anyone come forward and see the real mess we are in.”

  “I already have.” Thank god for at least one professional here, I should have ordered that first thing. Ordered that? I think at that moment it really sank in, I was now the Captain and pilot of this flight and it all depended on me.

  Thoughts of what I would have to do, get us to an airport, dump fuel, land the aircraft, stop the aircraft. I would have many opportunities to kill us all!

  My mind went in circles for what seemed forever, but was only a few seconds. Then my life training kicked in; one step at a time. I needed expert help. Presumably the FAA was contacting TWA for that help. See problem resolved. Who am I kidding! About that time instructions came back.

  “TWA 160 this is FAA ARTTC Denver Control Center, please go to channel 130.925 MHz for TWA.”

  “Roger that Denver.” Sara tuned the radio to 130.925. One small saving grace was that we had good reception.

  “This is TWA 160 calling TWA.”

  “TWA 160 this is TWA, please tune to channel 130.125 immediately. Repeat channel 130.125 immediately.”

  Sara was quick on those dials.

  “TWA this is TWA 160.”

  “TWA 160 this is TWA, we did that to try to give us some privacy on this.”

  “Roger that TWA.”

  “TWA 160 what is your name?”

  “Richard Jackson, but call me Rick.”

  “I am Edward Frankum, but call me Ed.”

  “Okay Ed, I need a lot of help here.”

  “My first question is exactly how many people are on board; tell a stewardess we need to know how many souls on board.” I had never heard it put that way before. It didn’t sound good, but it did give total head count without any confusion.

  The head stewardess was prepared with that and told me 139 souls on board. I relayed that and was given the next question.

  “What is your experience?”

  I told him what aircraft I had flown and my hours.

  “Okay so you understand the principals of flight and handling an aircraft, but know nothing about how jets operate or handling something this large.”

  “That is correct.” By this time we had given up on radio protocol and were having a conversation.

  “Well at least we have something to work with. Please reconfirm the conditions of the flight crew.”

  I checked with the Doctors once more. All three were now described as being in a coma, and we couldn’t count on a recovery in the very near future. The doctors felt if we could not land and get an IV in them, we could lose them.

  I relayed this to Ed.

  “Okay Rick, we will proceed as though you are going to land this aircraft. The first thing we will do is get you familiar with how the aircraft handles. It will respond to the same controls as you are used to, but will seem like trying to steer an elephant in comparison.”

  “Roger that, steer like an elephant.” Even in the grimmest of times you can get a chuckle out of things.

  “Rick in a minute I’m going to ask you to disconnect the autopilot but I have a few questions first.”

  “Okay.”

  “What is your altitude?” I could see the altimeter clearly but he described its appearance and location.

  “We are at 33,000 feet above sea level or FL330.”

  “What does your airspeed indicator show.” Again he made certain what gauge I was reading.

  “474 knots.”

  “There should be a clipboard with the pilot’s notes on it.”

  “I have it.”

  “Can you see any fuel estimates on it?”

  “Yes it says the initial fuel weight was 120,000 pounds. He further calculated that he burned 14,000 pounds during take-off. There is another note saying 16,000 pounds per hour.”

  “So you have been air born for two hours now?”

  “Roger.”

  “From that it looks like you now have 74,000 pounds on board. We are planning on landing in St. Louis which is five hours total flying time. That will take you down to 42,000 pounds. We need to have 6500 pounds for holding thirty minutes, but of course we will try not to hold you at all. Then another 15,000 to your alternate airport which will be Indianapolis, plus 1,700 pounds for descent, all that means we can dump 18,800 pounds of fuel. That will make the plane easier to handle and safer on the ground.”

  “Come again I didn’t get most of that.”

  “Bottom line, Rick you will have to dump 18,800 pounds of fuel. This will make the aircraft handle better, along with what you burn along the way; it will handle like a cow rather than an elephant.”

  “Roger, will be dumping 18,800 pounds of fuel and will handle like a cow.”

  “Now when we begin some gentle handling maneuvers, it is important you don’t change the airspeed or altitude very much or we will have to recalculate the fuel.”

  “Roger, don’t vary airspeed or altitude during gentle maneuvers.”

  He then proceeded to work with me so I had my seat adjusted so I could properly reach the pedals, and where the basic flight controls were. There was nothing surprising about this, which gave me some hope.

  Ed then walked me through both turning off and turning on the autopilot. Finally he had me turn the autopilot off. The plane didn’t do anything dramatic as I put my hands on the controls. Ed first had me descend a little. He was right, it was like asking an elephant to turn compared to what I was used to. More like driving a car without power steering. You just had to work at it more. Then came a series of turns, they were as he asked gentle, you could hardly tell we were banked at all.

  After this exercise he had me reset the au
topilot. I then read off the airspeed, altimeter and headings. Next he had me check the gauges on each engine. I had to report the Engine Pressure Ration, % RPM 1st rotor, Exhaust Temperature, % PRM 2nd Rotor and Fuel Flow (pounds per hour x 1000) for each engine. All were within norms which was a relief.

  Then there was oil quality, oil temperature and oil pressure from the Engineers panel. Again all was normal. I had to check almost one hundred gauges in total. It was easy to do as each horizontal row had its needles parallel to show they were okay. Only if one was not parallel would there be a concern.

  Another thing going for us was that the weather forecast was excellent all the way. There was no air turbulence reported in front of us. I wasn’t listening to those channels, but Ed and his backups were. From the talk in the background of the radio I could tell he was not a one man operation. They were getting reports from all commercial aircraft in between us and St. Louis.

  During that time we were handed off from the Denver Control Center to the St. Louis Control Center.

  Ed had me disengage the autopilot several more times and practice gentle rises and dips while turning. He had me go through this exercise for the next two hours. I think it was as much to keep me occupied as to get the feel for the aircraft. While doing all this he asked where I had learned to fly and who was my instructor?

  When I told him it was Mr. McGarry he wanted to know if that was McGarry of the Flying Tigers. When I said yes, his response was, “Then you do know how to fly. Just promise you won’t strafe the runway.”

  Since I had no weapons it was an easy promise to give. It was evident that he did know Mr. McGarry.

  At one point I got up and checked on things in the back. The flight crew members were still out with no sign of recovery. Dr. Casey told me that there was no chance of one of them helping even if they regained consciousness.

  I looked into the back cabin and the passengers were all sitting quietly, some of them in obvious prayer. I thought there would be panic rather than quiet acceptance.