Iris McCallum continues her stories about her early years with Air Kenya, and this month she shares her recovery in the aftermath of her dramatic engine fire and crash and her subsequent ‘getting back onto the saddle’.
After all the documentation relating to the crash had been dealt with, my fellow pilot at Air Kenya, Paul de Voest, exerted his natural authority and said, “Okay Cuddles, (Cuddles being the nickname the Air Kenya staff had given me). You’re coming with me.”
Paul must have been just 23 years old and so was younger than me. He was one of the most natural pilots I had ever flown with so we teased him a lot and called him De Verst pilot in da Vorld. Of course in British, and especially British colonial culture, teasing is one of the signs of respect.
When I entered the old bar at the Aero Club I received a rapturous welcome. I felt a lightness that I had never felt before. I experienced a beautiful sense of total peace that lasted for six months or so.
I was plied with lots of our lovely Kenya beer, Tuskers, by all and sundry. Fellow pilots touched my shoulders and arms (for good luck they said). We had quite a celebration.
Finally Paul said, ‘Okay Cuddles, I’m taking you home now. Tomorrow morning we will do a quick charter to Ol Pejeta and have some fun on the empty return leg.”
Our Piper Navajo, 5H-IHC, was a delight to fly. Paul took the co-pilot seat and we worked as two crew in harmony. I don’t recall what or who we flew, probably a combination of pax and supplies. Fifteen minutes later we were airborne back to Wilson. Paul was perfect, he didn’t overstress me on my first flight, he just wanted me to land one one single engine. So he closed down the right engine and said, “This will be easy for you, you did one yesterday.”
Sure enough, it was much easier without any flames. Paul was doing a great job helping me get back into the saddle and flying without fear.
I was given a couple of days off and then Paul and I went flying in the Cessna 310R, 5Y-EAR. It was a lovely morning flight to Kisumu on Lake Victoria, very picturesque in the Rift Valley, with the Aberdare Mountains to our right and a glimpse of Mount Kenya.
We dropped our passengers at Kisumu and came back to Wilson empty. Paul got me to do some steep turns, left and right, clean stalls, full flap stalls, slow flight and alternating engine failures. On the return he again gave me a single engine landing to do, only this time he shut down the critical left engine. We had a thoroughly fun time and Paul agreed that I was comfortably back in the saddle.
My logbook shows that on 17 February I flew 5Y-IHC to Entebbe to drop passengers and then return to Wilson. There was no Paul to hold my hand.
I did normal preflight checks and engine runs, and all looked good. I took off Runway 07 with a right hand turn out to the north-west. It is such a privilege to fly around Kenya. The magnificent highlands and mountains are a tonic for the soul.
I was very much aware of my aircraft, every sound that it made, and I kept looking from left to right engine and making sure that all was well. After about 20 minutes out, I noticed that I was losing fuel out of the left fuel cap. I wasn’t taking any chances so called up Nairobi Centre and told them that I was returning to Wilson. I apologised to my passengers in that they were going to be delayed getting to Entebbe, but they didn’t seem to mind.
The fuel cap was duly fixed, (I think a seal had hardened). This time nothing to bother us, the weather was clear on the way there and my passengers arrived in time for lunch.
On the way back to Wilson I climbed to Fl170. We had oxygen on board and no pax and so I took the direct IFR Route A609 Entebbe to GG. It was peaceful up here and I was determined to get over my anxiety of hearing strange noises coming, when there were none. I set up the autopilot, pushed back my seat, got out the latest Jilly Cooper novel and never looked back.
I am often asked whether they gave me psychological counselling in those days.
They didn’t but I was very fortunate in the friends I had. Jill Megson, whose cottage I rented, made sure I was all right and invited me over for many a meal and a vodka with her three teenage daughters Jacquie, Linda and Wendy to liven things up.
My fellow pilots, Paul de Voest, Buster Ray, Heather Stewart and GK Bayraktur were all steadfast. We were a very tight group and I learned what it means to have a band of brothers and sisters. I was incredibly lucky to be working within a company of caring directors and staff, from baggage handlers to the Chairman.
Paul de Voest accomplished much, as a pilot, and as a rally car driver. He has had an outstanding airline career. He was invited to join Gulf Air and was with them for many years. He became the Training Captain on the A340/330 and B767. He later joined Etihad and spent seven years on the 777 and 787 before taking early retirement. He and his wife Jane now live on the Kenya Coast at Watamu.
I was on the Kenya coast in 2016 when I saw them again. I had been to Tanzania to visit my Mum and family briefly, then on to Nairobi for a memorial service for a great friend, Greg Love. Paul and Jane took me out for dinner and while we were eating my brother phoned to say that my mother had unexpectedly died.
It was a great privilege for me that during two of my life changing moments, first the fire and crash, and then the death of my mother, Paul and Jane de Voest were there to support me. I am very grateful to them.