Adventures on Air Mali

As narrated by Fr. R. V. Mathias

This is the English version of  மாமாவுக்கு ஒரு ஸ்பெஷல் அனுபவம்

I was sitting in the Paris airport to take the Air Mali flight to Bamako, its capital. That was the cheapest flight available. As the International Chaplin for young Christian workers I usually think of the economics and Air Mali was the right choice. The journey was to attend the meeting of the young Christian workers Bamako, the capital city. With me was another priest from France, also connected with the same movement.

The flight was in the afternoon and was on time.  It was a Boeing 707, a gas guzzler by design and a tubular structure with three plus three seats with the aisle in the middle. There was no separate first class compartment as we see today but the front 10 odd seats is allotted to the first class passengers. We took off at the right time but even after quite some time, the plane was not gaining height. Out of curiosity I looked out of the widow and to my surprise I could see the Eiffel tower at a distance! As I was sharing this info with my companion the flight was losing further height and at that moment, there was an announcement. And with apologies the pilot announced that due to a technical snag, we had to head back to the Paris airport and as soon as the technical snag is rectified, we would take off and reach the destination more or less on time. As it was lunch time we were expecting a good food in the flight but had to be satisfied with the available airport snacks.

After some hours there was a request to board the plane and we were back to our seats wondering as to what time we would reach Bamako. The plane took off and gained height. We were happy with the whole process and were settling down to our thoughts.

 But that was not to be!

 

We could feel the flight turning back and losing height again. Passengers were worried. Was there one more snag? And this time there was no announcement either!

As we were back to square one at Paris airport the passengers were agitated and angry and many of them cancelled their flight out of sheer frustration. Then the unbelievable happened. The crew went about asking the passengers to contribute U.S. $ 100 each. The reason for the collection was to purchase aviation fuel.

They had run out of fuel!!!

The airport authorities refused a refill for two reasons: one was that there was a huge backlog of payment due to them from Mali Airways and second they were angry with the pilots for wasting the gasoline for taking off without properly rectifying the technical snag.  Were they humouring the passengers by showing them an aerial view of Paris? Despite their fervent request and assurance to pay all the dues the authorities would not budge and said that unless they paid cash there would be no filling up and hence the collection from passengers.

The pilot came to each of us with the request for money and assured us that the money would be paid back as soon as we reached Bamako.

We had no other go than to shell out whatever money we had and wishfully hoped that we would get it back!

With cash paid and gasoline full, we were back again the skies and a good meal was served.  As the contended and happy passengers were trying to relax, the entire cockpit crew (after setting the cruise control on auto pilot) came out to thank each and every one of us for the timely help.  As they were progressing through this thanks giving, suddenly the plane hit an air pocket and the plane plunged with a big thud and levelled off once again. Lo and behold, in this process the cockpit door slammed shut and as the door was designed for anti hijacking it could not be opened from passenger side!!! The crew were running helter-skelter and no amount of muscle strength could nudge open the door!! The whole cabin was frantic and the fear factor included as a bonus!

One of the crew members found an emergency fire axe and finally managed to break open the door! And the pilots rushed into the cockpit and never showed their face again. No announcement came either.

As we checked our watches, the six hour flight from Paris to Bamako was due to arrive at the destination any time. We looked out for the airport for any sign of city lights. There was none visible.  But we had started the descent and announcement for fastening our seat belts came through. As we were wondering what type airport this would be, the plane came down with an enormous thud and didn’t stop there but continued with more such bumps. There was a pall of gloom in the cabin when at last the plane decided to stop.

Then the crew members came out and spread their prayer mat and for how long we didn’t know, they went on with their prayers and none of the passengers had the guts or energy to ask them to show their way out. It was a philosophic moment for the whole group!!

And the end of the prayer was not to be the end of our adventure! From the cockpit the chief pilot thanked the passengers and continued that due to lack of fuel they had force landed on a military airstrip and thanked God that he was world war pilot and hence well versed with the location and hence could bring down the flight safely to the ground!! He assured us that we would be picked up the next day morning.

Yes we were thankful for small mercies.

And the pilot continued that as there were no passenger alighting amenities, we would make use of the emergency chute to go down and cautioned us not to go down with our shoes lest they tear the slide.

In the midnight with no lights around we were dropped one by one unto the bosom of mother earth, with a welcoming freezing temperature and buzzing loads of enormous mosquitoes!

There was no shelter except for a dilapidated shed. Since Mali was a hot place no one ever thought of warm clothing to protect them against that cold at midnight in the desert! We huddled in the shed tired and weak!

The next day we waited for the arrival of our transport to Bamako but no one was sure when that would arrive. Around ten in the morning there a roaring sound and we lifted our heads in chorus to scan the sky. What a wasteful exercise! At a distance we saw a dust storm brewing which was advancing towards us. We somehow managed the night’s cold but didn’t know how to protect ourselves against this new menace! The roar stopped and as the dust settled down we witnessed two military trucks in front of us. We were confused. Then the pilot explained that Bamako was two hundred miles away and this would our transport to the city. We were at our wit’s end but were too weak and hungry to evoke any response.   In haste we were hauled into one of the trucks while our luggage was loaded on to another. The high way to Bamako was a true bone shaker.

We finally reached our destination in the evening.

Important point: as promised they returned the money collected from us.