Afric-air - Always strings attached

Jambo!
Internal flights in Africa can be an adventure in itself. Schedules are driven by the climate, the availability of resources, the mood of the day, etc. but its certainly not dictated by something as relative as time. The land of low technology is renowned for developing innovative ways to get things done. Things that other continents would tell you were impossible, too risky, no tools, no spares or some other feeble excuse. If you want to sit down and wait for these things to come right then you will be an old person when you finally stand up again.

It was in this environment that our intrepid hero found himself. The continent was vast and he had started his voyage in the metropolis of Johannesburg. Gradually, as he transferred from flight to flight, and moved from country to region, he was aware that the cities were becoming towns and the planes were looking less and less reliable. The uniforms became less formal. At the last terminal the corporate logos and colours were reflected in the various stains on the walls, furniture and peoples' clothes.

Our hero was not very concerned with such things. The people were friendly and aimed to please, even if sometimes they missed. They had a wonderful philosophical and stoic outlook on life. 'Sometimes the planes, they don't fly good. Sometimes they fall out of the sky.' These were not the corporate mission statements of the airlines but it was good to keep them in mind. Our hero, well, he had lowered his expectations at every turn and now he just wanted to travel safe and arrive rested. He carried his own food and bottled water, just in case. It was all part of the adventure. Part of the African experience.

The make and model of this last aircraft was a mystery. It carried no identification marks that made any sense, unless you could read runes and tribal markings. It had non-turbo props which looked as if they had come from three or four different planes. In the departure area there were only a few people lounging and waiting. There was only one passenger class, live cargo. Looking around our hero felt a bit overdressed for the occasion. The aircraft was boarded by polite invitation only and it seemed prudent to let the 3 guys with the tattoos and piercings on first. After all they would need time to stow their rifles and ammunition in the luggage area, the rear toilet. It clearly used to be the rear gunner's position, in a different era. All in the line of duty for a veteran aircraft.


The internal seating of the plane had been extensively adjusted to allow for the storage of large crates of cargo along the left side of the aisle. The right side was reserved for passengers and live cargo, of all classes. The hunters had moved to the back of the aircraft, to be near their life support systems and beer crate. They liked their back to the wall, so they could watch out for any action that might go down and insisted on sitting downwind from it. Our hero took a seat near the front, hoping he was away from any possible action but mainly to be near to the exit.


The captain performed his pre-flight checks and then came around and spoke to the passengers. He gave a quick 'Hi guys! Good to see you again' to the hunters and then turned to address the new guy. 'You're European mate, they say?' 'Yes!' our hero replied. The captain was white African from German stock but was native now, the old country connection had been lost a long time ago. He was born and bred on this continent and understood its ways far better than this foreign piece of EU live cargo. Polite chat over, he excused himself saying that he had to give the safety talk before take off. He suddenly shouted "Brace yerself guys. We're off now! In the case of an emergency landing on water, you can use yer ass as a flotation device. Good luck!" then he and the guys laughed out loud. One guy spat on the floor in a playful manner. The captain was still laughing as he entered the cockpit area, behind the threadbare curtain.

The aircraft soon came alive and fired itself up. All the important systems were functioning at less than 100%, most of the time but that was normal and the pilots had workarounds for most situations, if you were lucky. The engines whined painfully at first and then exploded into life in a seemingly random and uneven manner and with great clouds of smoke. The captain loudly declared 'If we make it to the runway we've got a good chance of taking off. Brace yerself, I'm going for it!'

The rough ground taxiway to the runway caused everything on the aircraft to shake violently, including the fillings in the few teeth that the guys at the back were using to open their beer bottles. The aircraft roared menacingly down the dirt track runway, frightening the wild pigs into the bush and scattering exotic birds in all directions. At the end of the runway, with the engines screaming for blessed release, we reached the point of no return. In reality it had arrived a lot sooner because the slicks we had been trundling on couldn't have stopped a shopping trolley in a supermarket car park. The controls were rotated and by good fortune we were off the ground. Today the aircraft flys!

Once we reached level flight, things had calmed down. The captain switched off the 'seat belt' light. I could hear him laughing from where I sat. Most of the seat belts were missing and I had lashed myself to the seat by a piece of rope I found on the floor. The original seat belts had been tied together in intricate knots and were attempting to hold the cargo in situ on the other side of the aisle. The straining ropes looked like a disgruntled rhino had been roughly packaged as a surprise gift and hastily attached to the aircraft by a schoolboy's string collection.

A short time into the flight the captain emerged slowly into the cabin. like an apparition. The curtain fell away and he was left standing very still in the aisle holding a length of string in each hand. He started back again, walking very cagily. The other ends of the strings seemed to be fixed to something in the cockpit. Our hero could not see where they terminated but the captain was making sure they stayed taught and level. He hesitated now and then to make some adjustment to his grip. Was it my imagination? It feel as if the aircraft was responding to his movements. No, don't think crazy thoughts!

The captain excuses himself to our hero and asks him for a 'big favour'. 'Look, we don't have a co-pilot on board, you can't get the staff to show up reliably here, and I really need to go to the toilet. Its a lot to ask but can you take control of the plane for me?' and with that he passes the two strings over saying, 'Just make sure you keep them taught and level. They are attached to the flight controls. Be careful because it is very responsive to the slightest movement. If you pull back on both strings the plane will climb. If you let them go slack the plane will level off and then start to go down. If you pull to the right or left the plane will turn in that direction.' He demonstrated all these moves and the aircraft responded accordingly.

Our hero laughed but politely took hold of the strings. 'Very funny mate. I know a wind-up when I see it' and he let go control of the strings. The aircraft immediately starts to go right and down. The captain quickly takes back control of the strings and levels the plane.

'You crazy idiot. You nearly killed us all! Now take the controls and don't screw around'. He gave back control of the strings to the now very nervous passenger. The guys in the back are not happy. They hurl abuse at him and tell him to get on with it and do as he's asked. With this encouragement he took up the slack in the strings and tried his best to straighten up and fly right. The sweat was starting to run down his face. This was not happening.

He was tense but was still not totally convinced that all was well with this picture. Apparently, he was expected to fly an aircraft, built from second hand and/or obsolete parts, over the African continent, using only two strings. He decided to test his controls a bit and pulled back on the strings. The plane responded and started to climb. He slackened off and they levelled off. He pulled on the right string more than the left and the plane started to turn. He put it back on course and decided to fly straight and steady. This was a very odd and disconcerting feeling.

What was taking that pilot so long in the toilet. Stress and anxiety were left behind, and panic welled up in the reluctant pilot. 'God, I hope he doesn't have the 'runs'. What was keeping him?' The sweat ran down his face into his eyes. He tried to wipe it away using his sleeves but this disturbed the equilibrium and the aircraft started to move up and around. He re-checked his strings and all was well again but he was severely stressed. He hadn't signed up for this!

It seemed like an endless amount of time had passed before he had a strange new feeling. He started to become aware of the guys in the back. They had stopped heckling him and were smirking to themselves. It was then that he heard the captain's voice say to them 'Hey, the boy's doin' good! What say ye?' He was sitting in the back watching the fun and had been all the time. There was no emergency toilet break.

The guys and the captain were still laughing when he was led into the pilots cockpit area and introduced to the co-pilot. He was in on the joke. He had been seated there all the time, flying the aircraft in the absence of the captain. The strings? They were attached to the co-pilot's arms and elbows and he responded to the tugs and pulls from the passenger /victim. Changes in the string 'signals' were felt directly and the co-pilot responded accordingly, pulling up, down, left or right, as requested.

Well, what else are you gonna do for entertainment in the skies above Africa where there are now stewardesses, no in-flight movies, no hot towels, wine, beer or even a basic catering service. Low tech humour and amusing creativity is called for and the unwilling participation of live cargo in the interesting initiation ceremony that welcomes you to Afric-air. Jambo!

Can you name this plane?
The illustrations shown here are purely for decoration and are not directly connected with the story.

The posters can be seen at www.oldgloryprints.com Its has a terrific gallery of prints and aviation paintings.