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It was Friday afternoon and this was the last flight at the end of a harrowing week. Every tired cell in my body was just hanging out for 'Sabbath' rest. I could just see the through the thickening showers. We were weaving around the mountain mists and rain showers trying to keep the huge cliff face on the Northern end of Mt. Elembari in view. I had to negotiate my way around this limestone mountain and then I would only be a few minutes from home.
We were jolted this way and that by a strong wind buffeting the aircraft, as we picked our way through gaps in the spur radiating North West of Elembari and rounded the corner to head for the kaw kaw gap which lead to Goroka and home. I noted with a thankful heart that the weather was better in that direction and I could see a clear path through. Relief started to come over me as I could feel my exhausted body starting to relax. The kids in the village at the kaw kaw were out with their mirrors trying to catch the few meager the rays of the afternoon sun penetrating through the weather. The kaw kaw is one of the major routes into Goroka for small aircraft with many going through there each day. The kids often try to flash us with their mirrors to greet us as we come down through this gap. I felt too tired this day to reach for the landing light switch to greet them back but went ahead and did it any way. The boys at the kaw kaw waved wildly as we passed between the cloud and the ridge just above their bush Adventist Church and then headed again towards the runway at Goroka.
I picked up my flying bag and walked slowly towards the terminal thinking of the few minutes of post flight paper work that stood between me and the road home. As I entered the building I was greeted by an anxious hangar boy with a small piece of paper in his hand. "A man has been bitten by a snake at Owena and is dying. Can we go and rescue him." The wind down going on in my mind came to an abrupt halt. "Can't one of the other 5 operators at Goroka do this one?" I ventured, trying to find a legitimate way of excusing myself from going. "No he said, they have rung everyone and you are the only pilot on duty who is checked into there. My heart sank. There was just enough day light left to make the 25 minute flight there pick up the patient and get back home again, IF the weather did not interrupt our progress too much. I asked for plenty of fuel. "That's one worry I can do without," I thought as I picked up the phone to put some quick flight plan details in.
The weather was building to the South East where I had to go. Huge storm clouds and rain showers were developing along the route. As we maneuvered through the gaps between the storms and down over Okapa, I began trying to stoke up the spent coals of my nervous system and get my mind in the right groove for the exacting fine motor skills task just ahead. Owena is a difficult airstrip at this time of day. A strong wind funnels up the Aure river valley in the afternoons from the Papuan Coast. Owena is located on the lee side of a ridge which runs across the path of the wind. Some of the wind goes over the ridge towards Owena, causing a rolling tumbling rotor on the other side of the ridge as you make a final approach to land. The rest of the wind sweeps around the end of the ridge and then up the hill side towards the airstrip producing a difficult tail wind component, which is rising up the hillside and can lift the airplane way up above your stabilized approach profile on short final. Just as you are preparing to put the wheels on the ground, you can get thrown up skywards and find yourself stranded too high, approaching a very short runway, with no safe way of turning out of the confined space you are in and a tail wind carrying you rapidly towards the rising embankment at the end of the runway. Minutes later we were in the circuit and out the window I could see excited villagers running up the hillside to greet us.
I set the 206 up in approach configuration and followed the spur on base leg around into 'the slot' and stabilized. Then the battle started. The wind tried to heavy me down then up and my tired mind was locked into full concentration. I was now approaching the committal point beyond which there was no safe way of aborting the approach. I checked the profile. We were still in the slot but drifting slightly out from the ridge with the wind. That corrected we passed the point of no return and I waited poised for an immediate response to the last big upward gust just prior to touch down. There it was just like an elevator ride. Quickly I re-engaged the aiming point and drove the beast down onto the runway, dumping the flap as as we rounded out for touch down. I felt my feet twitching at the ready to get the brakes on as soon as the wheels touched the ground. Not a graceful way to caress mother earth after flight I grant you, but the wheels were on, -rather firmly to be sure, but that's what the braking requirements demanded.
Once in the parking bay, the throttle went to idle and I began looking around for my patient as the turbo charger cooled. Moments later a bamboo stretcher with coffee bags stretched between the poles emerged from around the hill opposite the parking bay, carried up the trail by worried relatives. I shut down as they approached and hopped out.
He had been way down in the valley by the river tending his garden when the serpent struck. The venom had quickly traveled from the fang marks in his leg into the blood stream by the pumping action of his leg muscles as he ran with quickening pulse up the steep hill towards the village. He collapsed before he got there. Anxious villagers then carried him the rest of the way and made a distress call on the local radio. The make shift pressure bandage over the bite wound was probably too late to prevent the poison from reaching life threatening levels in the blood stream. He was drowsy and labile as we loaded him aboard with a relative to look out for him while he was in Goroka.
There was no time to loose. As we turned out from the ridge I looked ahead towards Goroka. The weather had continued to develop and now huge storms stretched across our course line. I checked over towards Aiyura and there was thick line of heavy rain and dense cloud over that way too. The only option was to head towards Goroka and keep an eye on the route behind me to make sure I could get back to Owena if I could not find a way through to get this poor man to the medical help he needed.
Soon we were back over Okapa and yes the way behind was still clear. But the way ahead Oh my! I looked carefully in the diminishing light, searching for a gap in the storms and heavy rain ahead. The way up over Terabo and then out between Mt. Michael and Mt. Kanabega was being deluged by the heavy tropical rain storm over it. From there a solid line of rain extended right across Terabo and around over the lower terrain between me and the Kompri valley. It is unusual for both these alternate routes to be so solidly blocked. I went up, I went back down and there just did not seem to be a way through. I was beginning to get a bad feeling about my chances of getting past this weather to where the antivenin was waiting. I began to shift more of my effort to prayer. An argument started to rage in my mind. Should I climb up to a safe height and just head into the storm and hope to come out the other side in one piece and save this poor man's life. It is not something I would contemplate under normal circumstances but hey I was trying to save a mans life here. I glanced behind me. The snake bite victim was now unconscious, lying limp in the arms of his brother. Time was critical here. Would not God, protect me and help me through the storm to save the life of a dying man? Then the other side of my head kicked in with, "Hey what's the point of doing something unsafe to save one man when it was going to put at serious risk the lives of three and the aircraft." It was a tough call and I was tired. We conducted an orbit to give me time to think and to have another good hard look all around to see if there was any way through. It all looked worse if anything. The only way open was the way back which meant certain death to the dying man I was trying to save.
There is just something very hard about surrendering a patient to the grim reaper. I don't know if its the RN in me but that has just never gone down well, particularly if the person is in the prime of life like this young man. I just want to fight tooth and nail till there just aren't any options left. I was facing the storms between us and Goroka again. The rain was pounding the ground with such force that a fine spray was moving up off the surface towards us. I battled my instinct and desire to save this man and made the decision that going into what was ahead would be to cross the fine line between faith and presumption and deliberately put the lives of 3 people at risk. I would not do it. I began to pray. There was just a few moments and the deteriorating visibility would force me to turn out and head back to Owena. Have you ever felt your whole soul locked into an earnest exchange with God, where everything else seems to fade out of your consciousness as you plead desperately to Him with every bit of strength you can summon for His saving intervention? I paused. Would God hear a sinner like me and have mercy on a dirty poorly clad, illiterate villager from Owena whose name I did not even know? The rain was beating harder on the windscreen now. There were only seconds left. I felt my hand clasp the control yoke a little tighter, ready for the right hand turn I was about to initiate. The light was deteriorating, the visibility was approaching the minimum needed for safe flight. I told God that I was not going to go into the storm and that If He wanted me to get to Goroka in time I needed a safe path to fly in. If He did not open the way before the visibility got to the minima I was taking it as His will that I had to turn back to Owena and allow this patient to die. It is such a stressful choice to have to make.
I hesitated for a moment as the rain beat harder upon us. Then it happened. There in front of me in the midst of the heavy rain was a vertical line in the sky. The line parted as if hands were pulling back two halves of a curtain. I just sat there stunned watching what was happening. I looked above me the heavy rain was falling vertically to a point not far above the aircraft and then moving outwards to the side and then finally falling vertically again below us. It was clear underneath. I could see the ground clearly again. This can happen in a strong wind. What was unusual was that the fall of the rain from above us, was bending both sides of me in opposite directions. I have never seen a wind do that. It was like flying through an archway in the sky. I could not see very far ahead, but yes it was clear behind and I could see just enough in front of me, to keep going at cruise speed. A bright light from above and ahead of the aircraft illuminated the archway and shimmered off the wall of water in front of us. The wall of rain ahead kept moving forwards as we did. We were coming up over the ridges just before entering into the Goroka valley now. The arch way was still there and we were now only 10 minutes from Goroka. Then all of a sudden the light faded and we popped out of the archway into the fading light of a day near spent. There was Goroka ahead. I radioed the Tower to ask if the Ambulance I had ordered was there waiting. It was. I began to collect my thoughts. I turned back to looked at the route we had just flown. The rain was falling furiously and vertically where we had just been. We had come through under the center of a huge storm that had merged with storms either side.
High up on the edge of the storm was a small rainbow gleaming in what was left of the afternoon sun. This symbol of God's grace and forbearance with degenerate and failure prone humanity, brought cheer and joy to my heart as I realized again that when mission pilots take to the heavens, the God of heaven is there too and can hear us above the raucous unholy noise of the small mission planes we work in. He does care about the dying villagers of Papua New Guinea and still answers prayer.
The F28 was ready for take off as I intercepted a long final to land. He had heard me ask the tower whether the ambulance had arrived. He volunteered to sit and wait so as not to delay getting the patient to the hospital. The victim was still breathing when we landed and we transferred him quickly across to the waiting ambulance. He got to the hospital in time, received the antivenin and recovered and was able to go back to his family a week or two later.
As the lights went out that night and my eyes came to a weary close, in my minds eye, I could see that beautiful light from the tunnel I had flown through just hours before and I just wished I had unlimited power at the other end of my throttle and wanted to just pole back and keep going up into that light. On and on and on and .............
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