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Aviation History
1959
1959 - 3477.PDF
782 FLIGHT, 25 December 1959 MAY DAY AT FORT VICTORIA , r ; ' ' :.:Y'i:'il;:-,^A Rhodesian Airport Interlude T- v By S. G. H. WILLIAMS TO B.O.A.C. and other crews commuting between Londonand Johannesburg there are but two airports after Entebbesouthbound, namely, Salisbury and Jan Smuts. There are others; but these are for the use of les autres, and have no signifi-cance other than a dot on the map. Such a field is Fort Victoria aerodrome in Southern Rhodesia.Situated 150 miles south of Salisbury, it is on the direct route from Salisbury to Johannesburg and provides a non-directionalradio beacon as its contribution to the facilities of the rfoute. It is manned by one European who, although primarily employed bythe Federal Meteorological Department, carries out his duties of meteorological officer, radio operator, aerodrome controller, Shellrefuelling agent, aerodrome manager, fire officer, Vacuum Oil refuelling agent, information officer, aerodrome maintenanceofficer and provider of light refreshments with impartiality. He lives on the aerodrome in splendid isolation, and, theoretically, isavailable for twenty-four hours of the day on most days of the year. It is a well-known concept that familiarity breeds contempt and,to those of his ilk toiling in their spacious, air-conditioned and upholstered offices in Salisbury and Bulawayo, the sights andsounds of large, four-engined aircraft are commonplace. Even a stately Comet taxying past the windows would occasion noremarks other than an anguished expletive from the briefing officer in the middle of a telephone conversation. Not so in Fort Victoria. Work is carried out in a rather moretranquil atmosphere. Surrounded by b-b-b-bundu and mealie patches as it is, the total absence of noise and distractions oftenmake it possible to distinguish the African met observer's snores, emanating from the office next door; above the mutter of thepoint-to-point radio and the occasional buzzing of a trapped bee on the windowpane. At intervals, a light aircraft—usually of the Cessna or Piperbreed—arrives, bringing businessmen, dam-builders, engineers, and the occasional American tourist bound for the ZimbabweRuins and loaded with five years' salary in photographic equip- ment. Even commercial air services occasionally operate theirdaily schedule and arrive and depart in their usual frantic rush. Other than that, however, the only view we ever have of thelarger arcraft is when they float majestically overhead at their 10,000-15,000ft, bound for Johannesburg or Salisbury. It isdoubtful whether the captain even looks up from his Agatha Christie to note that he is passing over Fort Victoria. But it was rather a different story one day earlier this year—a day which will doubtless go down in the annals of Fort Victoria. Out of the Blue It started normally. For the first part of the morning, the officerin charge was buried quietly under a mountain of ledger sheets, returns, charts, monthly reports and unanswered H.Q. corres-pondence which constitutes the normal end-of-month anguish. He could have been working hard. Or asleep. Or dead. Or merelydreaming of his long-awaited leave. It is a moot point. But tea- time was looming on an otherwise black horizon when the infor-mation was received on the point-to-point radio that an East African Airways Argonaut, en route from Jan Smuts to Salisbury,was in trouble and wished to make a forced landing on Fort Victoria aerodrome in twenty minutes.At this point, a few details of the facilities offered by Fort Victoria may not come amiss. Situated two and a half miles fromtown, we possess a fairly level grass runway 4,200ft in length. The grass is kept reasonably short with the aid of a prehistoricmowing machine drawn by two extremely patient oxen and manned by two Africans, who yield easily to the gently swayingmotion and are normally in a state of complete somnolence by 0800 hr. Fire equipment was evolved by Mr. Heath Robinson, in hisheyday and one of his lighter moments. It consists of a cylindrical tank, mounted on two wheels, which is reputed to emit foamwhen three cocks are screwed in, two screwed out—and a little brass handle at one end wound furiously in a clockwise direction.As this was the original equipment that stood by for Bleriot's landing on the Cliffs of Dover, some pardonable doubt does existconcerning its efficiency. In any case, it requires fourteen men and one horse to move it from its resting place—provided that thetyres are inflated. However, a 222 call to the Town Police produced some quiteremarkable results. Within fifteen minutes, arrivals at the aero- drome included: one limousine and the Police Officer In Charge; THIS is the story—lightheartedly recounted by Mr. S. G. H. Williams,meteorological officer at Fort Victoria aerodrome, S. Rhodesia—of s:i emergency with a happy ending. It describes the impact upon a smalland isolated African community of the unexpected arrival of E.A.A.O. Canadair DC-4M Argonaut VP-KOI (commander Capt. Peter Cook)with a seized port outer engine and runaway propeller. three Police Land Rovers and seven large policemen; one redMorris Ten van containing two men, 800ft of hose and ten pans of asbestos gloves and aprons (the town fire engine); three doe-tors; one ambulance and three nurses; one i-ton pick-up loaded with axes; one J-ton pick-up loaded with fire extinguishers; fourother cars loaded with eager beavers; 357 Africans (walking or running). By this time the Argonaut was well in sight, limping slowlyover the town on its downwind leg. The suspense mounted as we dispersed everything and everybody on the secondary runwaynear the end of the main runway to await the almost inevitable overrun. Neither was the atmosphere eased at the sight of theaircraft well down on its final approach with the undercarriage still retracted—although visions of unpleasant belly-landingswere dispelled when, at approximately 300ft the wheels were lowered. And then the value of reversible-pitch propellers wasdemonstrated in no uncertain fashion. Brought into play at the moment of touch-down with a roar from the two inner engines, aperfect landing was effected, with room to spare. Not a lot of room. But some—slightly to the disappointment of the town'sfire-fighting crew, to the relief of the meteorological officer, and to the very obvious relief of the 27 passengers who clambereddown a pair of kitchen steps to firm ground. These were trans- ported quickly into town to make appreciable inroads into thestocks of alcoholic stimulants of the local hotel and to await the arrival of a chartered Dakota to ferry them on to Salisbury. Two-day Wonder The Argonaut provided a show-piece for two days, togetherwith two Dakotas that arrived on the scene the following day, con- taining a spare engine and a remarkably hard-working groundcrew. Working under adverse conditions (which included a horde of spectators, gaggles of sticky children and numerous dazedAfricans who thought they had now seen everything) the crew completed an engine change in slightly over six hours—a con-siderable part of the task being the removal of the new engine from its stowage in the Dakota. In this, they were aided by someremarkable co-operation from Rhodesia Railways, who supplied a mobile crane of dubious vintage which eased the task consider-ably, but which also removed most of the main telephone lines to Umtali during its passage to the aerodrome. The removal of the faulty engine was carried out in a veryshort time and it was discovered that one piston, connecting rod and bearing had rolled themselves into unrecognizable chunks ofmetal and battered numerous holes in both sides of the crankcase of an extremely expensive product.For the whole of that day Fort Victoria aerodrome resembled a big fairground, with new crowds arriving in a continuousstream of cars, bicycles, scooters and even a large yellow bus operated by a local opportunist. Children from six years of age tosixty clambered over every inch of the aircraft, while dogs fought and chased each other in circles around the undercarriage. Thelocal hotel-keeper transformed his battered Dodge saloon into a delivery van to maintain a steady supply of solid and liquid re-freshment for both crew and privileged onlookers, while the town's electrician rigged floodlights so that darkness should notinterfere with activities. The meteorological officer meanwhile rebuilt his mountain ofreturns in a remote corner of the office and spent hours at the telephone answering queries. And it is worthy of note that, lessthan one hour after the landing, he was asked to supplv details of the Constellation that had just crashed in flames with 72 peopleon board! However, the coming of night saw the end. At eleven p.m. thelast panel was replaced and the night shattered by a roar from the new engine—saluted by a raising of numerous bottles of refresh-ment grasped firmly by the hard core of spectators. An even smaller group was present the following morning at0630 hr to watch the Argonaut use almost every foot of the run- way to continue on its way to Salisbury. And it was with a senseof real regret that the met officer watched the two Dakotas follow on later in the morning—leaving the aerodrome to regain slowlyits general air of tranquillity.
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