Airship Over Atherton

by Christopher Cummings

  Graham sat there, hunched unhappily in his seat. “I’m getting bloody cold. Has this thing got heaters?” he asked.

  Willy sat and examined the controls in detail, then shook his head. “Doesn’t appear to have. There are windscreen wipers and de-misters though. I wish I’d seen them earlier.” He bent forward and tapped a gauge and frowned.

  “What’s wrong?” Peter asked.

  “We’ve lost a little bit of height, that’s all. We’ve come down about a hundred feet in the last hour.”

  “Perhaps we got holed by one of those bullets?” Peter suggested.

  Willy shrugged and continued to study the controls. Stephen came forward and leaned over between them. “Does that mean that we could come slowly down and end up in the sea?”

  Willy nodded. “Yes, I suppose so. In about 16 or 17 hours time, unless there is a reserve of helium in those gas bottles.”

  Stephen looked horrified. “We could be drowned. No-one might find us!” he cried.

  Peter frowned and looked at the control panel. “This thing must have a radio. Surely we can call for help?”

  Willy pointed. “All that stuff there. That is just normal aircraft radio equipment. Next to it is the radio navigation equipment. I think this screen here is for some sort of direction finding. They must have used a radio beacon to home the airship in on the right tree in the dark.”

  “Can you use the radio?” Stephen asked.

  “I think so. We can have a go anyway,” Willy replied.

  At that moment Marjorie interrupted. “I think you should have a look at that man. He looks awful and he has started that terrible sounding snoring.”

  They moved back to look at the man. He appeared very pale and slightly blue around the lips. His snoring was a series of spasmodic snuffles.

  “Concussion perhaps?” Willy said. “We’d better make him more comfortable.”

  “And lie him on his side so he doesn’t drown in his own vomit,” Peter added.

  Clothing was extracted from a suitcase and used to pillow the man’s head and to support him. A rug was found and was draped over him. There was nothing else they could do so they moved back to the controls.

  “Only just ten O’clock. It is going to be a long night,” Willy said.

  Stephen pointed at the altimeter. “Look! We have come down over another hundred feet just while we have been talking.”

  Willy bit his lip. He sat down and placed a set of earphones on and began clicking switches and turning dials. Diodes glowed and the set began to hum and crackle. In a pocket under the dashboard was a plastic covered book with pages in the plastic inserts. Willy picked it up and began leafing through it. He nodded and grunted and placed his finger on one page. With his other hand he moved the frequency selectors. Suddenly his face lit up.

  “There, got it!” he cried. “Listen. It is Cairns Airport Control.” He took off the earphones and let the others listen. Marjorie beamed at him and gripped his arm. He smiled at her and put the earphones on again, then pressed a switch.

  “Cairns control this is the airship, over.”

  The others strained to hear. Willy nodded and grinned, then said: “Sorry Cairns. We do not have a registration number or a call sign. We are on an airship. Call the police and ask them to explain.”

  The conversation went on for some time as Willy tried to explain who they were. “No, it’s not a hoax. Call the Atherton police and check with Sergeant Carmody or Senior Constable Grey. My name is Willy Williams. They are looking for me. They will explain.”

  There was more to and fro conversation before Willy said: “Change to Channel 3? OK. Wait-out.”

  Willy clicked the frequency setting and explained: “They want us to off the normal frequency as it is interfering with flight traffic.”

  Once he had re-established contact Willy spoke to the air traffic controller again. “Where are we? Over the sea I think. There are no lights visible, just the thunderstorm, and it takes up about a quarter of the horizon to the west of us.”

  There was more discussion. “No, we aren’t in any immediate danger. But we are losing some gas and coming down slowly.”

  “Bloody fast,” interjected Stephen. “We are down to fourteen hundred feet now.”

  Willy went on: “Yes control, we will do that. We will maintain a radio watch. Roger, out.” He took off one earpiece and turned to the others. “They can’t pick us up on radar but think we are somewhere east of Babinda or Innisfail. That is where the thunderstorm is now. They are trying to get a radio direction fix on us.”

  Willy went back to talking to give the radio direction equipment a transmission source. All the while his eyes stayed on the altimeter. It seemed steady enough. Cairns control then called him again. He relayed the information to the others. “They think we are about ten kilometres east of Russell Heads.”

  “What will they do now?” Marjorie asked.

  “Nothing till morning they said. And I’m not going to touch anything until I have to. So I recommend that we make ourselves comfortable and turn out the lights. We can take it in turns to maintain a radio watch.”

  They agreed to this after some discussion. Peter then said: “I’ll go first watch. You get some sleep Willy. You look a wreck.”

  “Not as much as I would have been if you blokes hadn’t arrived in time,” Willy replied. “Thanks.”

  They got all embarrassed at that and made light of it. “It was nothing,” Graham replied, implying that it was the sort of thing they did every day. “We’d do the same for a navy cadet.”

  It was agreed they would do an hour each. Willy then moved to the rear of the cockpit and opened another suitcase and made a bed out of the clothing. “Wake me if anything happens. And keep an eye on that storm.”

  They settled down and all lights except those on the controls were turned off. Willy wormed himself around until he felt as comfortable as his aching and cramped limbs would allow him. He was asleep in minutes.

  Peter did the first watch: from 2300 hours till midnight. Marjorie went next, from midnight to 0100. Stephen followed from 0100 to 0200. Then it was Graham’s turn. He stayed up till 0400, doing an extra hour before waking Peter.

  “You should have woken me earlier,” Peter said.

  “No. I took Willy’s turn. He needs the sleep. I’m OK. Besides, I’m too scared to sleep anyway,” Graham admitted.

  He lay down and Peter took over. Despite what he said Graham quickly slipped into a deep sleep. Peter sat and stared out the window, occasionally calling on the radio to ensure they were still in contact. At 0500 he woke Marjorie. She did the last hour before daylight. At 0600 she woke Stephen. There was just a hint of greyness to the east.

  “Shouldn’t we wake Willy?” Stephen asked.

  “Not yet. He needs the sleep,” Marjorie answered.

  Stephen grumbled. He got up and rubbed his eyes and stretched, then sat in the co-pilot’s seat. “That is the height isn’t it?” he asked, touching a gauge.

  “Yes, I think so,” Marjorie replied.

  “Then we’ve come down a long way. We are just on a thousand feet. I’m going to wake Willy,” Stephen said. He ignored Marjorie’s protest and went to shake Willy. Willy groaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes. He shivered and cried out as cramps seized his arms.

  “Ow! Aargh! Uuh! What? What?”

  “We are losing height and it is getting light,” Stephen said.

  Willy struggled to his feet and hobbled forward to the pilot’s seat. He slumped in it, massaging his wrists and forearms as he did. Still rubbing he gave the control panel close attention, muttered and clicked a switch. Nothing happened. “Hmm. Can’t seem to get the lights to work.” He looked out through the windscreen. “You are right. It is getting light.”

  To the east the hard, straight line of the horizon was now visible, with the pink flush of the approaching dawn above it. A few clouds stood out as confusing layers in silhouette. Willy looked down. “I was right. We are over the sea. So at
least we won’t fly into a mountain.”

  He pressed the engine starter button. There was a dull, grinding whir, then a click. The already dim dashboard lights went out.

  “Uh- Oh!” Willy said. He tried again but nothing happened. The noise had woken the others and they now stirred and sat up.

  “What is it?” Graham asked anxiously.

  “I think we have no electricity. The batteries seem to be flat,” Willy replied.

  “Then you are right,” Stephen said sarcastically. “We won’t fly into a mountain!”

  “Stop it Steve,” Peter said. “We are worried too.”

  “I’m not worried,” Graham added. “I’m bloody terrified.”

  “But everything worked last night,” Marjorie said.

  “I know,” Willy replied. “I probably left the wrong switch on and drained the battery.” He carefully scrutinized the control panel again.

  “Use the radio and call for help,” Stephen suggested.

  “What can they do? We aren’t a ship. They can’t come out and tow us,” Peter replied.

  “A helicopter might,” Stephen replied. “Anyway, they can send something out to rescue us when we ditch in the sea.”

  Willy put the earphones on and tried the radio. After two attempts he turned to the circle of anxious faces. “Sorry. Not a sausage. The set is not transmitting. We don’t seem to have any power.”

  “But we must have!” Stephen cried. “It’s not possible! Why.. we. we could be blown right out over the ocean.. and .. and starve to death.”

  “No,” Willy replied calmly. “We are still losing height. The sharks will get us long before we succumb to hunger.”

  After a moment of silence Peter said: “If this thing was going to fly over the ocean it must have safety gear; life rafts and radio beacons and so on.”

  They all got up and searched. Every locker and compartment was searched as well as under all the seats. Nothing was found. They stared at each other in mounting dismay.

  “What about the diesel engines?” Peter suggested.

  “Good idea, but I think they need electricity to get them started, to work the starter motor,” Willy replied.

  “We can try it,” Peter said.

  “Yes we can,” said Willy, levering himself from his seat. As he made his way back he said: “Do you know how to start a big diesel engine?”

  Peter shrugged. Graham stood up as well. He had often watched the huge marine diesels in his father’s ship being started but had never paid attention to exactly how it was done. He mentally kicked himself and dredged around in his memory.

  Stephen opened a locker. “There must be some sort of operator’s manual,” he said. But there wasn’t. They all went into the engine compartment and looked at the engines but none had any idea of what to do first.

  “Why not ask that man?” Marjorie suggested.

  “Yes! Well done Marj!” Willy cried. “I think our friend Klutz is the engineer. I hope I didn’t hit him too hard.”

  They gathered around the blanket covered form of the recumbent crewman. Willy knelt and shook him. For a moment nothing happened and Willy feared he may have seriously injured the man. Willy shook him again. The man groaned and opened his eyes. For a while he lay there, his eyes unfocused. Then, with a start, he looked up.

  “Vot goes on? Vere are ve?”

  Willy explained the situation. The man’s eyes bulged in disbelief. “You fly zis airship! Zat ist nicht, is not possible.”

  “Maybe not. But we have. Now we need your help,” Willy replied.

  “My help? Vy should I giff you my help?”

  “If you don’t you drown as well as us,” Willy replied.

  The man considered this, then said: “I tell you vot. I help you and you help me. I get der motors to go. You land der airship and let me off and tell der police zat I escape, ja?”

  Willy shook his head. “No deal. You mongrels murdered my Uncle Ted. You will pay for that.”

  “Zat vos not me. I had nosing to do vif zat! Zat vos Hank der Yank. You make him to jail go.”

  “Too late I’m afraid. He’s dead,” Willy replied grimly.

  Again the man’s eyes goggled. “Dead! You say dead? How he die hien?”

  “He fell into a wood chipping machine,” Willy replied. He suddenly felt sick and exhausted. He just wished it was all over. Determined to save his friends he faced the man and said: “Now tell us what to do, or you die too.”

  Obvious fear crossed the man’s face. He licked his lips and nodded. “Ja. OK. I do zat. You untie me and I do it.”

  “No. You tell us what to do and we will do it.”

  The man twisted his lips, then nodded. Willy suppressed a sigh of relief. “OK, start talking.”

  CHAPTER 34

  WILLY’S CHOICE

  Guided by Klutz’s instructions Willy turned off several switches on the control panel. Graham and Peter then dragged Klutz into the engine compartment. Here he was sat in a corner and explained, step by step, what to do. In spite of this the boys were unable to get either of the engines to work.

  “Der batteries zey iz flat. Ve need der starter motor to make go, und ve muss der compression build up. Untie my hands and I do zis,” Klutz said.

  Willy chewed his lip then nodded. It was 7am, full daylight, and they were now down to 900 feet. “OK, but no funny business or I’ll hit you again,” he said. He picked up a wrench to back up his threat.

  Graham untied Klutz’s hands. The next few minutes Klutz spent groaning and massaging his wrists, a procedure which won him no sympathy from Willy. Graham and Peter then hoisted Klutz to his feet and held him steady. The man worked quickly, turning taps and checking switches. With rapid strokes on a hand pump he built up the compression in one engine. Next he fitted a crank handle to a starter motor. That done he paused and looked at the boys.

  “Ven der motors go who der pilot vill be?”

  “I will,” Willy replied.

  “You can fly an airship?” Klutz asked in surprise.

  “I’ll learn,” Willy replied. “You can tell me what to do.”

  “I der mechanic ist, not der pilot.”

  “You must still know something,” Willy said. “Come on, start the thing.”

  Klutz made a rapid circular motion with the crank handle. The starter motor wheezed then burst into action. A few moments later the tappets on top of the diesel engine began working and the big motor roared into life. The boys looked at each other and grinned.

  Klutz was helped over to start the second motor. He then explained how to connect the batteries to charge them.

  “Der airship can fly along at der same time as der batteries zey is charged,” Klutz said.

  Willy eyed the crank handle in Klutz’s hand, nodded and stepped forward to take it from him. The man scowled but did not resist. He was then helped over to the gas cylinders and reserve gas was released into the balloon. When that was done Willy said: “OK, tie him up again. One of you stay here with him and the other come with me as messenger.”

  Klutz objected. He asked to be allowed to go to the toilet and to have a drink and some food. He was helped to the tiny cubicle which held the toilet, then given food and water before being tied up again. Peter stayed to watch him and Graham went back to the cockpit with Willy.

  Willy settled himself in the pilot’s seat and sat for a minute thinking. He felt elated but hoped it wasn’t too obvious. He grinned at Marjorie who sat in the co-pilot’s seat. After a detailed study of the control panel Willy noted that they had gained altitude and were now at 1200 feet. This was pointed out to the others, to the open relief of all. Next he flicked switches and practised moving the control column. This was a conventional ‘stick’ which simultaneously operated the rudder and elevators. Next he moved the wheel which controlled the direction of thrust of the motors. These, he now knew, swivelled from vertically down to vertically up.

  Once he was satisfied he understood what he was doing and saw that the batteries ha
d accumulated a sufficient charge Willy turned on the motors and tested them. Certain that they were working properly he slowly adjusted the ‘pitch’ of the propeller blades to get them to bite into the air. The airship took on a noticeable bow-up angle and began to surge forward. The airspeed indicator moved up to 20 knots. The airship quickly climbed to 1800 feet. Willy grinned and experimented with the controls to change height and direction.

  Graham interrupted. “Shouldn’t we be heading for Cairns?” he asked.

  “Stop worrying,” Willy replied. “We are going fine.” But he did turn the airship around to head north west, the direction he thought was roughly correct. He looked out of the window. To the east the sea was like crinkled silver paper. Below him it was a deep blue, almost black. Off to the west it was greyish-blue and merged with cloud.

  The airship climbed almost to 2,000 feet and they experienced a slight pitching motion. Ears had to be cleared as the pressure difference caused some pain. Willy slowly increased the speed to 40 knots, with one eye on the ammeter to ensure he wasn’t draining the batteries faster than they were being charged. Then he sat back and smiled at the others. They all smiled back.

  “OK Marjorie, would you operate the radio?” he asked. He had to shout to make himself heard over the roar of the diesels. She looked startled but nervously agreed. But she made contact on the first call and was told that an aircraft was already on its way searching for them. She was requested to keep transmitting so that they could get another fix on their position.

  Willy had been looking down and he now tapped Marjorie on the shoulder and said to her. “Tell them we are just passing over the outer edge of the Great Barrier Reef. That should help them.”

  Marjorie did so and the tower acknowledged. The teenagers then stared down at the reef. The sea went from a dark blue to a line of white surf backed by yellow-green areas of shallow water over coral. Deep water channels stood out clearly as green or dark blue, as did brown blotches of exposed coral. Individual reefs by the hundred stretched off on either side to north and south as far as the eye could see.