Simply Fly

by Capt G R Gopinath

  Launches from the hinterland were important to me. I flew personally to supervise the inaugural events at thirty unconnected airports out of sixty-seven, attending launches in Kolhapur, Agra, Pathankot, Kandla, Dehradun, and Shimla, among others. These high-profile events had the chief minister, the local MLA, the local MP, and the local film star in VIP attendance. Raj Babbar attended the Agra event and Vinod Khanna the one at Pathankot. The Buddhist spiritual leader, the Dalai Lama was present at the Dharmashala event.

  We made elaborate preparations prior to each launch. Vijaya Menon and her PR team travelled to the site well in advance. They got the local media to create a buzz about air connectivity and Deccan’s low-cost mission. John Kuruvilla and his team preceded Vijaya’s trip to these places. They assessed the market and devised ways of driving up ticket sales. They named e-agents and identified sales outlets. These pre-launch visits gave us an idea of the other India: we saw a consumer enthusiasm in Tier II and III cities that was no less ebullient than that in the metros.

  The launches had the support of local journalists, chambers of commerce, and small and medium enterprises. Political leaders saw in them an opportunity to add a new profile to their image. The ruling party claimed credit for the new facility and opposition parties were peeved.

  I did get into one such political imbroglio, although a very minor one. One BJP MP from Jabalpur made persistent efforts to contact me. ‘What can I do for you?’ I asked him. He wanted my help to bring a flight to Jabalpur. I met him in Delhi over a cup of coffee and someone came and took a picture of both of us shaking hands. I explained to the MP that we had a resource constraint. Flights to Jabalpur and Bhopal were not immediately feasible, but these formed part of our flight map and would be instituted some time in the future. We parted on this note. It seemed a politically insignificant and innocent meeting.

  A few days following this, I received a call from one of the ministers of Madhya Pradesh who asked me why he had not been taken into confidence about Deccan flights to Bhopal and Jabalpur. The MP, who belonged to the party in opposition, had printed the picture with me in a local newspaper and had a report published alongside which implied that it was he who was initiating Deccan flights to small towns in Madhya Pradesh. In doing so he sought to raise his political stock.

  When chief ministers inaugurated our flights the state government bore the expenses for the event, we not having to spend more than Rs 40–50,000. All such cost-saving schemes helped bring down the fares and also ensured a relatively smooth programme. The events, however, were neither without incident nor without a touch of the comic for the detached third-party observer. Politicians are quite capable of bringing in an unintentional touch of the comic to an otherwise dry, humourless affair.

  One such event featured Raj Babbar, sitting MP from Agra. We had invited Raj Babbar for the Delhi–Agra inaugural flight. A section of the audience began raising slogans against him, among who were former MLAs and MPs as well as opposition party politicians. As a policy we treated local MLAs, MPs, and ministers from the ruling party and important members of the opposition on par. We needed the goodwill of the ruling party and also wanted the good wishes of the opposition. Deccan sought to promote an inclusive business strategy. In many other functions the ruling party invariably stole the thunder and the opposition was largely ignored and left out in the cold, angry and disgruntled.

  I sat next to Raj Babbar on the dais. The sloganeers demanded to know why they had not been invited to sit on the dais. We must be sensitive to rural political and cultural sensibilities. We should expect politicians to show off, be visible, and have their egos pampered. They also express petty jealousy without a thought for public sentiment. That is what happened in Agra. I asked for more chairs to be placed on the dais and invited senior opposition leaders to come and take a seat.

  In Shimla, an ex-MLA stomped on to the stage, grabbed the mike, and demanded an apology from the chief minister for leaving him out of the VIP seating on dais because it was the state government and not the ruling party organizing the event. This resulted in a frightful melee.

  Hyderabad Launch

  The Hyderabad–Vijayawada flight was memorable for the right and wrong reasons. The future of Deccan hinged on it. I had asked Vijaya Menon to camp at Vijayawada and ensure that every local MLA, ex-MLA, MP, ex-MP, opposition leader, ex-opposition leader, and any leader with any pretence to political authority was invited. I included the name of Rajashekhar Reddy, Chandrababu Naidu’s most vehement political opponent, who later succeeded Naidu as the chief minister.

  Two ATR aircrafts had flown in from Toulouse for the second launch to be held on 23 August. In the aviation industry, the aircraft manufacturer plays an extremely critical role in the safety and air-worthiness processes. The ATR manufacturer had carried out the two most important examination protocols: C-checks and D-checks on the two aircraft. These checks are comprehensive, opening up the bowels of the aircraft and closely, inch by inch, inspecting them for the slightest traces of corrosion. They look into the avionics, the engines, and the fuselage. The C-check is the major inspection when an aircraft is new and the D-check for an older aircraft. The aircraft is almost ripped apart and re-assembled. These checks ensure that all the major components have a minimum half-life left. When the manufacturer performs these checks and passes an aircraft, they are almost as good as new. Our two aircrafts had passed these checks in Toulouse in time for the second launch.

  We did not source our aircraft from a broker but from the manufacturer, and a manufacturer makes no compromises on the inspection procedure. In addition, we had had a third-party auditor to audit the ATRs for international standards before we took delivery. This move eliminated potential controversy over standards and helped us dispel rumour-mongering that our aircrafts were old and unsafe. The aircraft had flown 8000 kilometres from France and were obviously in excellent shape.

  On 23 August a crowd of VVIPs milled around the Hyderabad airport tarmac. Almost the entire fleet of the state’s political and bureaucratic top-brass was present. Chandrababu Naidu, Venkaiah Naidu, and Rajiv Pratap Rudy, the three stalwarts who had made this possible, were there. Both the local and national media were present in full strength. The television channels had set up their cameras and broadcasting vans at a convenient distance to capture the first moments of the flight.

  An impressive function had been planned to receive the aircraft at Vijayawada airport. The local MP and MLA had planned a major reception. Speeches were made in Hyderabad. Rajiv Pratap Rudy spoke of how Air Deccan was poised to create Indian aviation history. He exhorted everyone to ensure the success of Deccan because Deccan’s failure meant the failure of Indian aviation. After speeches and ribbon-cutting the guests boarded the aircraft. Venkaiah Naidu and Chandrababu Naidu came on board. I took a seat next to Rajiv Pratap Rudy across the aisle from them. The flight captain was our chief pilot Capt. Rajiv Kotiyal.

  We fastened our seat-belts and were expectantly, if a little anxiously, awaiting the plane’s take-off. The turboprops had been turned on; we could hear their whirring noise. Cabin crew had just closed the doors. There is usually a quiet moment before the aircraft actually starts taxiing: it lasts a few seconds and the aircraft moves. We had just begun to experience that trough of quietude when somebody shouted, ‘Fire!’ I looked beyond Rudy at the source of the alarm and beyond the window. I saw a blazing plume of fire trailing behind the turboprop engine. It must have been about 6 metres long and was blown outwards and backwards by the inrush of air as the engine was switched on. Within seconds I heard the sound of a fire-extinguisher squirting fluid and saw how the orange and yellow of the flame’s plumage had now been smothered in the waving white cape of fire-dousing foam. It lasted a few seconds. The fire was completely extinguished, but meanwhile panic was writ large on the faces of passengers. Rudy had instinctively opened the emergency exit and passengers were rapidly alighting from the aircraft.

  People and the media outside had seen the long
tongue of flame as it spit outwards and also the response of the fire-extinguisher and the dousing of the flame. It had at most lasted a few seconds. As soon as the VIPs had recovered from the initial shock, Venkaiah Naidu, Rajiv Pratap Rudy, and I drew up close. Venkaiah Naidu held my hand and Rudy’s, and said, ‘It’s now very important that we speak the same language to the press.’ Just as he left the tarmac, he told Rudy, ‘Stay with Capt. Gopi. Deccan’s success is important for the nation.’

  My chief pilot Rajiv Kotiyal and the chief engineer told us it was not uncommon for aircraft engines to catch fire mid-flight. In that event, the pilot switches off the affected engine and lands with the help of the other engine. In the current case, they said, the fire was not inside the engine, but outside the engine and in all likelihood caused by some residual combustible fuel that had accumulated in a receptacle meant to hold trickles outside the turboprop. The fuel forms a film trapping readily combustible vapour. The heat generated by the propeller, the engine, and friction from passage of air at high velocity must have caused the vapour to ignite and burn. The flame would have died down in a few seconds and would not have even required a fire-extinguisher.

  I had already begun to receive calls from home, colleagues, and business associates. The marketing team came up to me in confidence and suggested we suspend air operations for a month and resume them only after thorough third-party audit on our aircraft safety. They said that this would generate consumer confidence and we would also get a clean chit. They felt such a move would prove to the country that we made no compromises on safety. Just at that moment I had a call from Orchard in Bengaluru. They wanted to know whether they should go ahead with advertisement releases scheduled for the following day and had only 30 minutes left to catch the press deadline.

  I put the call on hold and asked Capt. Kotiyal whether there was any safety issue. He said there was none, and that such incidents were not uncommon. He said he was willing to fly the aircraft to Vijayawada that very moment. I had to take a decision on the advertisement release and did not think for more than a split second after that. I resumed the call with Orchard and said we were going ahead as usual. If I had at that moment dithered and gone along with the suggestion to suspend operations for a month, Deccan would never have taken off again. The competition would have utilized this opportunity to bury me. The following day papers carried a report headlined something to this effect: ‘Miraculous escape for Venkaiah Naidu and Chandrababu Naidu as Air Deccan flight catches fire.’ Just next to that report, at the bottom, I saw our Deccan advertisement announcing the commencement of commercial flights between Hyderabad and Vijayawada.

  The media were ready for the kill and surrounded me from every side. The incident had been captured in detail by TV channels. One of them asked me bluntly, ‘So, Capt. Gopinath, is this the end of your dream?’ I gathered my cool and presence of mind and said, ‘Such things happen in aviation. He who walks, stumbles. But Deccan is here to stay!’ I said it was unfortunate that this had happened, but something of the kind could have happened a few months or a few years later. It was just bad luck. I said we were resolved to carry on nevertheless. I said our aircrafts were perfectly safe and air-worthy, and this very aircraft had come flying 8000 kilometres from Toulouse.

  The media was not however convinced. They then pounced on Rudy and asked, ‘Mr Minister, are you going to allow Deccan to continue after this? Are low-cost airlines safe?’ Rudy said, ‘I just checked with the DGCA. There are no safety issues and this was only a freak incident. The country needs a low-cost airline. Deccan will fly!’ The press wouldn’t let go and had a field day. The image of our plane and the VIPs who had had a ‘narrow escape’, my explanation and Rudy’s reply were put on a loop and broadcast throughout the day.

  The media quizzed us for about two hours and continued the interviews. I heard the revving up of the engine and Kotiyal was in his cockpit. He gave the thumbs-up and took off for Vijayawada, which nobody reported. Presumably, it did not have sufficient sensational value and the potential to make good press copy!

  The media exaggerated the incident. Some TV channels said Venkaiah Naidu had jumped out of the plane and been hurt; others—that people had suffered burn injuries. Of course all this was grossly untrue. There had been no cause for panic because the flame had been extinguished within seconds. The incident aroused nervousness amongst some individuals in the company, especially my marketing team.

  I returned to Bengaluru that evening and called a meeting to take stock. The commercial launch was two days away and I needed confirmation from my technical heads before launching commercial operations. I sent for Rajiv Kotiyal who had weathered the crisis with poise and remained on top of the situation.

  We were all convinced that as the fire had been as recent as two days ago, that would greatly dampen the enthusiasm of passengers and we could expect very low occupancy for the first commercial launch. We were even prepared for only two or three passengers turning up, but life is full of surprises: the inaugural flight from Hyderabad to Vijayawada had 100 per cent occupancy!

  The country was with me in this decision. People commended me on my resolve to carry on. They said, ‘Do not give up. We are with you.’ People wrote letters and sent emails. One even said that symbolically, fire in the course of a launch and a new venture, was auspicious according to Indian traditions and beliefs. The fire had consumed and banished ill omens and taken the evil eye off the project. The Indian mind sometimes thinks in a bafflingly different way. The principles of Karma are entrenched and are a source of great strength during a crisis, if you perceive them in the right spirit.

  We had acquired and deployed four aircrafts, four months down the line from the date of the launch, and were undertaking forty flights a day. We had flights to Belgaum, Hubli, Bengaluru, Mangalore, Coimbatore, Madurai, Chennai, Hyderabad, Vijayawada, Rajahmundry, and Cochin, among others. The most heartening result for business was that we soon achieved a positive cash flow situation. Deccan was charting a success graph, and seeing this steady growth, major investment advisory banks called us. They included, among many, Rothschild, ICICI, Citicorp, and Merrill Lynch.

  I could not help recalling my early days of enterprise in Hassan. I had then done the rounds of the banks for a few thousand rupees initially, and here the biggest names in investment banking were pitching for my account. It felt good to be on the other side of the chase!

  The Rothschild India team, headed by Munesh Khanna with Amitabh Malhotra as deputy, was the reason why I chose them. They were brilliant, extremely well-networked in global finance, and passionate about getting our account. They promised to hold our hands through the entire process, and the most appealing and convincing aspect of their pitch was their passion to become involved.

  The team did all manner of number crunching exercises over the next six months, including sensitivity analysis and stress tests. They created information memoranda for potential equity partners, and our roadshows were based on these preparatory studies.

  We chose Singapore for the Asia leg of the road-show and organized several more in Europe and in the US. The response was huge; many institutions wanted to invest. We identified a list of twenty potential partners and then short-listed four: Temasek, Indigo Partners, Capital International, and ICICI Capital.

  Temasek was a large country fund while Indigo Partners had much aviation expertise and had earlier invested in Ryan Air. Capital International was also a big name while ICICI Capital was home-grown.

  Temasek did not want to participate in a race. They straightaway offered to put in Rs 200 crore and said they would not go back on their word. Three others had however been selected by due process and we would have been unfair to them had we decided on one and foreclosed the deal.

  Indigo Partners was the most respected investor for airlines. Their understanding of the low-cost airline business was unmatched. Friends from Rothschild advised me privately to go with Indigo. It may have been a good thing: they had the expertise,
and would have seen me through the many unforeseen challenges and crises that Deccan would later face. I was, however, insecure that as a global investor they might interfere too much in the running of the company. ICICI chairperson Renuka Ramnathan is extremely knowledgeable and I knew her as a friend. As I knew no-one at Indigo Partners I decided to go with ICICI Capital and they agreed to invest about Rs180 crore.

  We were examining the term-sheets submitted by prospective investors, when I received a call from the office of the chairman of Singapore Airlines inviting me for a meeting with the chairman and urging complete secrecy. I therefore flew to Singapore. SIA was still smarting over the Tata–Singapore Airline sabotage. Choon Chew Seng, the chairman, affectionately called CS, was looking for new opportunities to invest in Indian aviation. The Indian government was at the time considering allowing 49 per cent investment by foreign airlines in India.

  SIA, the great Singapore icon, was initially set up by the Tatas and Air India. Choon Chew Seng’s mentor was an Indian Singaporean, the first chairman of SIA. He told me during my visit to the island country that if the Indian government legislated in favour of investments by foreign airlines, SIA would like to invest in Deccan.

  Singapore Airlines is a great airline with excellent operational and engineering efficiencies. It is known for its service standards and customer care. SIA would benefit Air Deccan very substantially. I invited Choon Chew Seng, and his deputy Liam Song, to visit us at Bengaluru. They came over and took a closer look at the working and fundamentals of my airline. I also took them out to Belur and Halebid, Kabini Game Reserve, and Jungle Lodges and Resorts.