How to survive a plane crash

Fear of flying? No sir-ee. Not me. Not much scares me. 

Sharks do a bit... Bogan's put the wind up me too. Cancer would be quite scary. Public speaking is fine. Unless I imagine the audience naked... That's scary and the worse bit of advice I've ever heard. Spiders and snakes are creepy too.

Ok. So there a just a few things that scare me a little bit. But not flying in a plane. No fear. None.

Apologies in advance to those I've inflicted this story on before. Despite my claimed fearlessness, I've lived a fairly safe existence. No bungy jumping, sky diving, canyoning, drug addictions... So my near-death experience catalogue is a bit thin. Whenever I have to talk up the adventures of my youth, my plane crash story is about all I have to lean on. Here it is:

In 2003 I was in a light plane crash in the Pilbara. The plane was a Beechcraft Baron – there was the pilot and 4 passengers. I was sitting right down the back. It was 3 o’clock in the afternoon. It was hot and had been a long day. I nodded at all the right places during the safety briefing but was more concerned with finding a magazine for the 45 min run from Pannawonica to Karratha. 

The dirt runway was rough and there was a big cross wind so I sat back looking forward to getting in the air and levelling out. We were up and I was momentarily relieved to be off the runway when we were suddenly sideways – one of the engines had conked out. 

Then the other engine stalled and I found myself looking straight down a wing at rapidly approaching scrub. No one screamed. We just all looked down our wing pulling us back to the scrub and rocks on the edge of town. We were only metres, if that, from the tree tops when the pilot and plane managed to level out and we started  ploughing through the bush on the edge of town. 

I'd like to think that in the face of disaster, I am quick to respond and saved by intellect. But no.  I am however, a fast-follower. So when I saw the other passengers bracing, I thought I would too… We bumped along the ground for a few hundred metres losing propellers, undercarriage and a few other bits as we went. When we finally stopped, I again reverted to form and looked where the other passengers were escaping and followed – despite the fact that I was sitting adjacent to an emergency exit. 

The passenger I chose to follow was on the high end of 200 cm and 120 kg. He moved fast through that small emergency window though. In a manoeuvre something like a Fosbury Flop, he flung his frame out and on to the wing. I was so far up his bum trying to get out of there, I copped his size 11 in the chin on the way out. We ran like crazy, dusted ourselves off and thanked god (or science) that we had all made it relatively intact. Later found out that we shared a few broken ribs and collar bones but that’s tough miners for you…

I learnt something interesting about myself through this experience:

As the plane was crashing, I didn't fear death or injury. I didn't say a few last ditch prayers. I didn't scream. I simply remembered that I was going on break. There was another plane back at the terminal and that I’d get out of this mess … quickly … and get on the next plane out of there. Don't get between me and a holiday.