Photograph The Dam Wall

Photograph The Dam Wall

Laura awoke at six o’clock. She showered, picked up the green t-shirt from the floor, smelled it, not too bad, and pulled it on. The black jeans and hiking boots from yesterday will do. Laura found dressing a drag and a bore.

But Daddy allowed her to fly Martin, his all-white Cessna 172.

Laura let herself out of the chalet. She looked at the resort from the veranda, the trees, the flowers in the bright dawn light, and the smells of the fresh morning air. Overhead was a light blue sky with dark clouds on the Northern horizon. A sharp breeze threatened to whip those clouds into a storm.

“Not a dull day ahead,” she thought. “Kevin needs photos of the dam wall to finish his project of the Blade River Canyon. So I’ll fly him to the wall. It will be exciting.”

Back in the chalet, Laura yanked the blanket off, Kevin. “Good morning, sleepy, grumpy, Kevin, get your butt into action. We’ve photos to take. We’ll eat and sleep later.”

Laura helped Kevin lug the camera kit from the chalet to the far end of the resort and the make-shift airstrip. The Cessna, anchored in a small parking bay, needed an inspection. So while Kevin loaded his cameras, light meters, and stuff, Laura did a quick preflight check.

“The Cessna is good, and I’m ready. Can we go now, Kevin?”

Laura switched on the electrics. She moved the radio switch to where she and Kevin could listen to broadcasts. The radio crackled, breaking the silence in the cockpit.

“This is Blade Airforce Base traffic control. Severe storm clouds to the north are a potential danger to all air traffic in the area. Use caution when flying near the canyon nature reserve and the dam.”

“Let’s get this done before the storm destroys our plans,” said Kevin.

Laura powered on Martin. The single-blade red-tipped propeller

swung around twice, then stopped. She scanned the instruments; all were in order. She closed the choke, then opened it again and turned the engine. This time the engine took spluttered smoke from the exhaust and powered up as it should. After a brief warm-up, she pushed the throttle forward. Unfortunately, they did not have time for power tests. These will take place during take-off.

“I’m ready. Kevin buckle in tight. This will be a scary flight into the canyon.”

Laura taxied the Cessna to the far end of the field and turned to take advantage of the stiff headwind. She checked the sky ahead. No air traffic around. With the throttle wide open, Laura let the Cessna find its take-off speed. Using today’s headwind, they were airborne halfway down the strip.

Flying low through the hills, they crossed one of the main roads leading to the dam. Laura turned west towards the dam and climbed to five-hundred feet. Out of the hills, they passed over open farmland. During this time, they saw the convoy of sand-colored military vehicles along the road to the East. Laura could relax her arms and legs before diving into the Blade Canyon. She continued in this direction for a few minutes, which was enough, then down to ground level. There were no cars on any of the regional routes. Off to the north, still far away, storm clouds continued building in the direction they headed.

“Are you still with me?” said Laura.

“Yep, but shit, low flying is stressful.”

Laura glanced at him. He uttered a few syllables and said ‘shit.’ Kevin is awake but not yet enjoying the ride.

“A trip like this is scary. Kevin, that is why I’m a crop-spraying pilot,” said Laura. “Did you see the military convoy when we were higher? We must slip in behind them and over the edge into the canyon. That temporary Airforce lookout at the Three Sisters post could be a problem and might alert Blade AFB if we were spotted,” said Laura.

“There is the convoy!” she shouted. “We’re going in now.”

Laura yanked the Cessna to the right and kept the height about twenty feet above the ground. They shot across the road about fifty meters behind the convoy and disappeared into the canyon. The maneuver surprised Laura as much as it did Kevin. They plummeted a hundred feet straight into the ravine before Laura brought the nose up to fly along the canyon bottom, where she leveled the Cessna above the river.

Laura adjusted the Cessna’s height as a hillock loomed straight in front. She opened the throttle and turned the Cessna onto its side to avoid the hillock.

“Fly slower, girl!” Laura shouted at herself. Her knuckles stretched white on the control column. She throttled back to almost stalling speed, giving her time to handle the twisting river.

“Kevin, you look out for fighter planes or attack helicopters. Because if the convoy or the lookout at Three Sisters spotted us, they would send something to turn us back. The Blade AFB is about thirty kilometers to the North-East of where we are. So the chances are good; something will come.”

“Can the fighters reach us before we get to the dam wall?” said Kevin. “Because once we are there, we’ll be okay.”

Laura did not understand his logic. However, she had to concentrate on getting them along the river and across the dam to the wall for now.

The radio crackled. Laura switched it across “Blade AFB traffic control … I repeat, extreme weather activity exists in the Blade canyon, nature reserve, and dam. Therefore, pilots must abort all flying in those areas. This storm is moving at sixty kilometers per hour from the north. It has passed over the Blade military base causing damage to buildings and trees. It’s heading to the dam.”

“Kevin, did you hear that? Do we go back or go for a quick look at the dam wall?”

“Let’s do it. I need close-ups of the wall in this light.”

******

The Weather Doppler C130 airplane circled in the distance above the airforce base. The debris carried in the storm showed up on their onboard radar. A closer translation of the data might have shown the Cessna.

The Three Sisters lookout watched the massive storm move across the burned section of the nature reserve. Then, at the far side of the dam, by the wall, they watched the tiny white Cessna begin its turn towards the storm. Its white appearance defied the blackness of the storm. That was the last they saw of the airplane.

******

Laura and Kevin experienced the weather firsthand. Laura was at her flying best. So too, was the Cessna at its high aerodynamic expectations. They had to be to meet the challenge of the destructive storm swooping down on them like an enormous black Eagle on a Rock Martin.

The approach to the dam wall went wrong. The Cessna struck a great black apparition on the nose gear. It came from nowhere and flew at them.

“What the bloody hell was that!” shouted Kevin, almost hysterical from the pressure of this panic flying.

“I think it was an owl!” shouted Laura.

“No photos of the dam wall today. We’ll have to abort this. Lookout the wall!” yelled Kevin, his knuckles white on the armrests.

Laura screeched and banked away from the close dam wall.

“Viking-Irish, look in front! What’s this coming to get us!” groaned Laura. “We can’t change our direction now. The storm will fling us into the dam wall. I’ll go at it nose-first. Hold on, here we go!”

The dark storm clouds, low on the river like a large pyroclastic flow, rolled over them. Friction ignited the sucked-up black dust into white lightning. The white flash grew brighter and brighter until it absorbed the storm and engulfed all within it in white light.

The Cessna disappeared!

Time stopped!

For the Cessna, more than time stopped; everything stopped.

Laura gasped deep breaths, found her sunglasses from their storage at the side of her seat, and put them on. The light was so bright they were not much help. Laura focused as best she could through the brightness and vibration of the instrument panel. She could not believe what she saw. The airspeed indicator registered zero. Moments ago, it recorded an average flying speed. The Vertical Speed Indicator showed an incredible rate of climb of over four-thousand feet per minute. The Artificial Horizon indicated they were in a steep dive. The only reading in their favor showed their wings were level, even in a steep dive.

Did she translate these readings correctly? Are the light and vibration playing tricks on her eyes? Laura rechecked and then looked up into the white light surround. She jumped in her tight safety harness, her heart pounded against the straps, and her breathing stopped.

With its neat red tip, the propeller stood still upright, visible in front of them. The engine had cut out! Laura sucked deep breaths and looked back at the instrument panel. The bloody gauge still showed that it was running. Stupid panel!

“Think, girl, think,” Laura whispered. “This cannot be. You know better. Martin, damn you, enough of your silly games; help me get this sorted out.” Laura shouted, not panicking but recalling and translating her flying training and expertise into their current situation.

“Silly girl, think airplane and fly it as you know how into this blinding light and shuddering,” she reassured herself. “You know what to do!”

“Are you okay, Laura?” choked Kevin, a terror-filled voice. “You’ve got to get us out of this turbulence!”

Turbulence. That was it! It was severe storm turbulence upsetting the instrument readings. The bright white lightning caused a strobe effect on the propeller giving the impression that it had stopped. She knew about Storm Upset and the implications. Important to remember what to do when encountering the condition. Keep the airplane level at all costs. You might have to feel in your body that it is level. The instruments will lie to you.

“You’re right, Kevin; it is turbulence! We must hang in here a little longer, though. I must keep the Cessna nice and level with no fancy tricks; the instruments lie to us. I will get us out of this.”

Laura wiped her hand across her wet mouth and looked down at it. Bright red foaming blood covered her hand. She saw the front of her T-shirt splattered with blood. How was she to get them out of this without a visual reference? The continuous rapid vibration and wild bouncing around made feeling your balance and the horizontal level almost impossible. Were we on our asses or elbows?

“Relax, and you’ll be okay, Kevin. Take deep breaths and relax,” she encouraged, and once again, she felt in control. This storm had not beaten her. Instead, the sudden white light had almost conquered her exceptional self-belief.

As Laura wrestled with the controls, sweat, and blood streamed down her face and covered her neck and chest. She was at peace with Martin. She will beat this mighty storm.

“Concentrate, girl, concentrate,” she said out loud. “There is still intense flying to do.”

“Kevin, how are you holding up? You’ve been too quiet,” said Laura, not wanting to look around and lose concentration on the panel and flying.

Kevin looked at Laura for the first time since they flew into the massive lightning cloud. He sucked a harsh and audible breath but could not speak. Laura turned to look to see what terrified him. The bright white light etched every line of terror in his blood-streaked face and eyes. Laura saw Kevin’s face bleeding.

She saw her face in his eyes.

Laura turned back to see what her precious Martin was doing. Laura looked down at her hands and forearms to see they also were blood-covered. She tasted the blood.

Had we crashed and bled to death in White Hell? We are too young to die. It was too bright for the end! All we wanted to do was photograph the dam wall. So what is this?

The answer to these doubts came soon. Everything turned pitch-black. Just as the white light turned on, it turned off. The contrast was absolute!

“Shit to you, Death, you cannot have us yet!”

******

The Weather Doppler C130 followed the storm, still circling. The little white Cessna popped out of the black cloud right before them. The C130 pilot banked to the right, nose up to avoid the Cessna, which passed within feet. The Cessna took no corrective action.

“This is Weather Doppler C130 456 reporting a near-miss with an unidentified Cessna headed towards Blade AFB. Do you register it on your radar, Blade?” The Captain was alarmed it did not register on his radar. But, his onboard Met Officer confirmed that the Cessna showed strange readings on his screen.

“No translation on our radar, 456. Pursue from a safe distance and report activity of the Cessna.”

"… Blade … this is Cessna … 172 … help us … please!"

The End