Sojourners of the Sky Read Online Free PDF Page A

debate raged in his brain. John told himself to be ready. His fingers lightly caressed the control yoke, standing by, willing and able.
    Charles had wisely delayed retracting the landing gear until the airplane was positively climbing, since it seemed likely that it might settle back onto the runway. But realizing the landing gear was hindering their performance, and since there was nothing beneath them except the frigid waters of Jamaica Bay, Charles decided to take a chance.
    “Gear up,” ordered the Captain in a very calm voice that concealed his fear.
    “Gear up,” replied John with a pitch in his voice that clearly gave away his feelings.
    The airplane buffeted wildly and the nose began swinging to the left and right. They were moving forward, but not accelerating or climbing. The DC6 skimmed the wave-tops, seemingly suspended in time. With the exception of the roiling waves and foamy spray, the view through the windshield was a dark void. Near total darkness surrounded them.
    John could not completely comprehend the eerie picture he was seeing through the front window. The whitecaps of an unforgiving sea, illuminated by two small tunnels of white light emanating from the DC6’s lights, seemed a contradiction of reality. It reminded him of a Hollywood movie. A motion picture that he desperately hoped the pilots lived through.
    “G.R., give me a couple degrees of flaps,” ordered Captain Pratt.
    G.R. reached down and extended the flaps three additional degrees as ordered. He knew by extending the flaps the captain was attempting to give the wings a little more surface area, thereby increasing their lifting capability.
    “That ocean spray ought to help,” observed Charles.
    John managed a very faint chuckle, not knowing if his captain was serious or not about the salt water melting the ice off the wings.
    G.R. watched anxiously as the oil and cylinder head temperatures all entered the mid-range of their respective red arcs. He knew he had to open the cowl flaps and force cool air through the engine compartments soon. But opening them at such a critical moment would likely increase the drag on the airframe to an untenable amount. Since the overburdened airliner was clearly unable to accelerate, the added resistance would likely force the DC6 to slowly sink into the icy water beneath them. He held his breath, hoping the airplane would climb before the furnace-like temperatures inside the four engine compartments escalated out of control.
    Charles and John were so preoccupied with trying to get the airplane to climb, neither noticed the red-lining temperatures.
    The airplane continued to shudder, hanging precariously on the edge of a stall. It was clear that the four-engine Douglas was unhappy.
    The DC6 was barely twenty feet above the water and Charles knew that he’d been backed into a corner. If he pushed just a little forward on the control yoke to reduce the pitch angle, the airplane would almost immediately strike the waves. Likewise, if he pulled back a little to climb, the airplane would undoubtedly stall and then crash into the water out of control. Either way, he knew he had to use a gentle touch or it would all be over in a New York minute.
    Pilots and passengers alike could feel, and indeed hear, a thunderous rumbling sound as it passed through the nearly silent, yet deafeningly loud aircraft interior.
    The airspeed needles advanced four knots and then fell six, all while the altimeters refused to cooperate and indicate a climb. The instrument ballet was a torturous thing for the pilots to endure.
    Clearing his voice before he could speak, John softly muttered, “Speed’s up ten knots.”
    “Keep both fingers crossed,” replied Charles.
    “And toes,” added G.R.
    Their wait was agonizing, but eventually the old reliable DC6 came through for them. The combination of extending the flaps and flying through the salty ocean spray, along with G.R.’s quick action with the cowl flaps, gave the airplane