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The Pilot Half Sucked Out of the Aircraft - The Drama Onboard Flight BA 5390
On June 10, 1990, a British Airways flight experienced a terrifying incident high above the clouds. A windshield on the aircraft shattered, but thanks to the swift actions of the crew and co-pilot, a major catastrophe was averted.
As Flight BA 5390, operated by British Airways, took off from Birmingham Airport heading to Malaga, Spain on that fateful Sunday, June 10, 1990, everything seemed to be going smoothly. The pilot, Timothy Lancaster, 42, and his co-pilot, Alastair Atchiston, 39, were both experienced professionals. The aircraft was also carrying 81 passengers and four additional crew members. At 7:20 am local time, the BAC-1-11 aircraft took off. Shortly after Atchiston handed over control to Lancaster, a loud bang rang out over the town of Didcot in Oxfordshire, at an altitude of approximately 5300 meters.
The left windshield detached from its frame, causing a sudden decompression that also blew the cockpit door off its hinges, wedging it into the throttle levers. Condensation mist filled the plane as chaos ensued inside. Nigel Odgen, then 36, recalled, "I thought, 'Oh God, a bomb'." Panic spread among the passengers, with screams filling the air and the aircraft being buffeted about while a deafening roar drowned out all other sound. Checklists and flight plans were scattered, and debris littered the cockpit.
The suction force was so powerful that the pilot was partially sucked out through the window, his feet caught on the control column. Odgen immediately grabbed him around the waist, preventing him from being fully pulled out. As the pilot's feet became lodged on the controls, he disabled the autopilot, causing the plane to rapidly descend. It tilted six degrees nose-down and 25 degrees to the right, its speed increasing from 555 to nearly 630 kilometers per hour due to the jammed throttle levers held forward by the dislodged cockpit door.
British Airways co-pilot opts for a swift descent
Repeatedly, the pilot's half-out protruding head struck the intact side window, exposed to frigid temperatures of minus 17 degrees Celsius outside the aircraft. The tornado-like conditions wreaked havoc in the cockpit, presenting a challenge for Co-pilot Atchison as he struggled to retract the throttle levers. Acting quickly, Chief Cabin Crew John Heward stored the cockpit door in the lavatory and secured Odgen with the pilot's seat belt's waist strap. Together, they managed to dislodge the captain's feet from the control column. Instead of slowing down, Atchison chose to continue the rapid descent. With no automatic oxygen masks on board and himself struggling with the thin air, he needed to bring the aircraft down as quickly as possible. He opted not to use an oxygen mask to maintain communication with the crew and air traffic controllers.
Regaining control to some extent, he made a distress call, but the roaring noise around him made it difficult to communicate with air traffic control. Meanwhile, in the cabin, the two other flight attendants, Susan Gibbins and Simon Rogers, worked to calm passengers and prepare for an emergency landing. At an altitude of around 3300 meters and a speed of 270 kilometers per hour, the pilot's body, previously pressed against the aircraft, suddenly slumped. Rogers entered the cockpit at this point, realizing the full extent of the catastrophic situation. Helplessly, he watched his colleagues desperately clinging to the lower body of the pilot as he hung halfway out of the window. Nigel Odgen recalled, "I only remember Tim's flailing arms. They seemed to be about 1.80 meters long, and I will never forget that his eyes were wide open as his face struck the sidewindow. But he didn't blink, and I thought to myself and said to John, 'I think he's dead'."
As Lancaster weakened, with a dislocated shoulder and frostbite on his arms and left eye from the icy airflow, he needed to be relieved by Simon Rogers. Together with Chief Cabin Crew John Heward, they exerted all their strength to prevent the pilot from being fully sucked out of the aircraft, recognizing the grave danger of his body hitting the engine or wing, potentially leading to a crash.
The Pilot Half Sucked Out of the Aircraft. "I Think He's Dead"
The co-pilot remained in silence for seven long minutes before finally hearing the air traffic controller's voice. He requested a runway at least 2500 meters long due to the aircraft still carrying a considerable amount of unused fuel, which made it heavy, increasing the risk of tire blowout. He asked to be allowed to land at Gatwick since he was familiar with the airport there, even though Southampton was closer. Despite Southampton Airport having a runway length of only 1700 meters, he needed to bring the aircraft down quickly.
With the broken window, all checklists and maps essential for preparing to land at an unfamiliar airport had been lost. At this critical moment, only air traffic controller Chris Rundle could assist him. When Rundle inquired if there were any other issues aboard the aircraft besides the sudden decompression, Atchison shockingly replied, "The pilot is half sucked out of the aircraft. I think he's dead." The air traffic controller could hardly believe his ears, recalling, "You only know this from movies, not in real life. You think, 'That can't be true, but it must be true'."
35 minutes after departing from Birmingham and 20 minutes after the pilot was flung out along with the window, Alastair Atchison executed the most challenging landing of his career. At 7:55 a.m., Flight BA 5390 landed safely at Southampton Airport. Rescue vehicles surrounded the aircraft, and passengers were quickly evacuated via the front and rear stairs, while local firefighters brought the flight captain back into the aircraft. Miraculously, he survived the ordeal with a broken thumb, contusions, bruising, frostbite, and fractures in his right arm and wrist in addition to shock.
"I Was Very Aware That I Was Going Up."
Although he was mostly unconscious, memories gradually returned to him in the hospital. "There was a loud bang, a sound like the entire air escaped. But I remember how the windshield moved away from the aircraft and then - like a ball - disappeared into the distance. And I was very aware that I was going up." While he knew he was hanging halfway out of the aircraft, that didn't bother him much. Most distinctly, he recalled not being able to breathe. "So, I rotated my body. At that moment, I looked back over the aircraft and could breathe." He also remembered the engines spinning and seeing the tail section of the aircraft. "At that point, my memory stops." Incredibly, only five months later, he resumed his duties as a pilot.
The broken aircraft window was later found near Cholsey, Oxfordshire. An investigating commission determined that out of the 90 bolts used, 84 had a diameter that was too small, while the remaining six were too short. This fatal error occurred because unlike other aircraft where the windshields are attached from the inside, held in place by cabin pressure, the BAC 1-11's windshield is bolted from the outside. The numerous bolts are necessary to prevent pressurized air from leaking through the window seal, meaning any weakness in the bolts could result in the windshield blowing out due to the aircraft's internal pressure.
Confronted with the incorrect bolts, the responsible shift worker was shocked. He had selected and installed the new bolts based on visual inspection. Unbeknownst to him, even the previous windshield had been fitted with incorrect bolts, which, by sheer luck, managed to hold the window securely for four years without issue.
The bolts used for the windshield were too small.
Having not replaced a windshield for two years, he quickly glanced at the maintenance log that morning to refresh his memory. He took a bolt from the old window to the spare parts store to get new ones, where he identified them as A211-7D screws. Despite being advised by the store manager that A211-8D screws were actually needed for this windshield, he disregarded the advice. Running short on screws, he retrieved more from another hangar but failed to notice they were too narrow in the dim light. Stretching over the aircraft's nose on a lift during installation, he couldn't see that the screws were not fitting correctly. He signed off on the maintenance papers at 6 a.m. sharp, indicating the aircraft was ready for handover to the flight captain.
Co-pilot Alastair Atchison and cabin crew members Susan Gibbins and Nigel Ogden were awarded the Queen's Commendation for Valuable Service in the Air for their heroic actions. Atchison also received the Polaris Award in 1992 for outstanding airmanship. The aircraft was repaired and put back into service, and despite the tragedy, everyone returned to their duties. Only Ogden, who suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder, retired in 2001 due to health reasons, later becoming a night watchman at a Salvation Army hospital.
Legacy and Resilience
The harrowing experience of Flight BA 5390 left a lasting impact on all those involved, but it also showcased the bravery and resilience of the crew members in the face of adversity. The heroism displayed by Alastair Atchison, Susan Gibbins, and Nigel Ogden during the crisis earned them well-deserved recognition and accolades, highlighting their unwavering commitment to ensuring the safety of the passengers despite the unimaginable circumstances.
The aftermath of the incident prompted a thorough investigation into the maintenance lapses that led to the catastrophic failure. The revelation of the incorrect bolts used in securing the windshield shed light on the critical importance of meticulous attention to detail and adherence to safety protocols in aviation maintenance practices. As a result, stringent measures were implemented to prevent such oversights from recurring, emphasizing the paramount significance of upholding rigorous standards in aircraft maintenance to safeguard the lives of passengers and crew members.
The resilience demonstrated by the crew members in overcoming the traumatic event and their eventual return to their respective roles underscored their remarkable courage and determination to move forward from the ordeal. While the incident undoubtedly left a profound mark on their lives, it also served as a testament to their strength and tenacity in confronting challenges and emerging stronger from adversity.
The story of Flight BA 5390 serves as a poignant reminder of the gravity of maintaining vigilance and adherence to safety procedures in the aviation industry. It stands as a testament to the enduring spirit of human courage and resilience in the face of crisis, highlighting the unwavering commitment of aviation professionals to ensure the safety and well-being of passengers under even the most perilous circumstances.
As Alastair Atchison, Susan Gibbins, and Nigel Ogden forged ahead with their lives following the incident, their actions and bravery continue to inspire future generations of aviation professionals and serve as a beacon of hope and strength in times of adversity. Their courage and fortitude in the face of calamity stand as a testament to the indomitable human spirit and the unwavering commitment to upholding safety and excellence in the aviation industry.
In conclusion, the events of Flight BA 5390 underscore the importance of stringent safety measures, meticulous attention to detail, and the resilience and courage exhibited by individuals in the face of adversity. The legacy of the crew members and their remarkable actions in the wake of crisis serve as a powerful testament to the unwavering dedication and commitment of aviation professionals to ensuring the safety and well-being of all those who entrust their lives to the skies.
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