Sunday, April 8, 2012

A beautiful Easter Sunday and a trip to the Pegasus crash site

Happy Easter. The day started out good when I found some Easter goodies at my door. The Easter bunny had appeared at all the dorms and occupied rooms. It may sound funny but it was really special to find that at my door. It brought back many family memories of Easter morning.

After breakfast I dressed in my best Easter outfit for a trip onto the Ross Ice Shelf to visit the Pegasus crash site of 1970. For those interested I have copied the last flight story. We were driven the 13 miles in an old navy Delta passenger vehicle. There were 10 of us in the back. The rear heater wasn't working so we pretty much froze during the bumpy one hour ride. A guy across from me has a thermometer on his jacket. It read -20 degrees. When we arrived at the site the trip leader said we will be here an hour or so. We all looked at him and said "Yeah...right." It was an absolutely beautiful day with no clouds or wind. Pegasus is mostly covered up after 40+ years of drifting snow. All of us wanted to take pictures and you can't do that with a glove on. Fortunately I was wearing my glove liners. The routine is to remove the right glove, take picture, put glove back on and put your hand into the parka pocket. After about 15 minutes of this I couldn't move my right hand anymore. I couldn't even get the glove on. So I went back to the Delta and climbed into the cab to thaw my hand. That wasn't working. The driver noticed my problem and applied  a pair of gel hand-warmers to my liners and put my gloves back on. I climbed down from the cab and noticed everyone was loaded into the back already due to the cold. The trip leader said there was room for three in the cab for the return trip. After about 10 seconds I said I'm in since no one else called it.

After about 30 minutes I was able to use my camera again and took a few Ross Ice Shelf pictures and three videos from the cab. The ice is 100 feet thick here, almost to the sea bed. It was during this time I witnessed my first Fata Morgana and was amazed at this mirage. It is commonly seen in the polar regions over large sheets of ice. We were driving along and what appeared to be huge cliffs came crashing down like surf. I am sitting there staring at what looked like a huge storm headed our way. I asked the other guys in the cab, "Are you seeing that?" They said it was a Fata Morgana. It happened many times. You have to see it to believe it. The sun angle, brightness of the ice, and temperature have to be just right for this to occur. 

After the pix there is a video that shows us driving by Observation Hill. I have also uploaded 2 more videos to youtube since they are too large for blogspot. 


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kXl5InNFIlk&feature=youtu.be
This video shows us driving up the transition from the shelf ice to Ross Island.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nhFc6nfNSAQ&feature=youtu.be
Driving back into town.









Here's a history of the plane crash at Pegasus Runway.  Enjoy!

THE LAST FLIGHT SOUTH BY "PEGASUS" THE FLYING HORSE
Just before 9am on October 8, 1970 the C-121 Super Constellation "Pegasus" of the United States Navy's VX-6 Squadron departed from Christchurch Airport on a ten and a half hour flight to Antarctica. The ill-fated aircraft ended her life in a tangled heap on the ice of the Ross Sea. For the second navigator Robert O'Keefe the day is firmly etched in his mind recalling the events leading to the crash twenty nine years later.
By NOEL GILLESPIE
FREELANCE AVIATION WRITER
Edited by Ben Bachelder
Freelance grammar enforcer
Just before 9am on a cool dull Christchurch morning of October 8 1970, Lt.Commander Cliff Greau, a veteran of two previous Antarctic seasons, roared his C-121J Super Constellation ("Connie") into the southern skies.  Appropriately named "Pegasus"- the flying horse, this was her seventh year of Antarctic operations.
Greau's mission was to open up Operation Deep Freeze 71-destination the ice runway William Field, McMurdo Sound, 4,500 miles away over open frozen waters. A routine squadron's flight was to end in tragic circumstances ten and a half hours later.
Half an hour out from McMurdo, the weather had deteriorated to zero visibility in an intense storm, which had enveloped the base. Low on fuel and no alternative airfield, Commander Greau had to possibly crash land the aircraft. After making five attempts, he veered off to the right side of the ice runway and the Connie was destroyed without loss of life.
Pegasus BuNo 131644, was the seventh aircraft of VX-6Squadron, carrying a crew of 12 and 68 passengers including a technician from Lockheed, the aircraft's manufacturer, plus cargo and mail for the winter-over party. At midnight, the first aircraft away was another C-121J, "Phoenix", followed by the five C-130 Hercules at one hour intervals.
The twelve-man crew included the commander, two co-pilots, and two navigators, two flight engineers, a radio operator and two load masters. The Connies required two navigators because the magnetic compasses and gyros were not operational below 60 degrees south so celestial navigation was required. Its main mission with VX-6 was moving personnel from Christchurch to McMurdo and photo mapping the Antarctic continent.
The weather forecast for the McMurdo area was marginal as a severe Antarctic storm was closing in. It had already caused a 24-hour holdup on flights between Christchurch and McMurdo and had grounded interior flights at McMurdo.
With the weather of paramount concern to the crew and no alternate landing sites, their minds alert, the intrepid naval aviators kept regular contact with oceanic control as Pegasus headed towards McMurdo center control.
O'Keefe, a true naval aviator, was the aircraft's second navigator. On his inaugural flight to the continent, he was unknowingly a matter of hours away from the grim introduction to Antarctic flying.
Says Bob O'Keefe, "As we reached the Point of Safe Return [PSR] at 4pm we had learned that the weather at McMurdo was deteriorating rapidly and visibility at Williams Field was 10 miles with winds of 13 mph, we commenced a conference. Lt. Commander Greau made the call to continue the flight south"
"We really didn't discuss it much; everyone on the flight deck had their own thoughts. We all said a silent prayer as thoughts flashed back to home."
Between 6 and 7pm a snowstorm developed, visibility at McMurdo was reduced to zero with winds gusting to 40 mph.
The Connie utilized a slightly longer route into McMurdo than the Hercs because of the mountains on the continent and the Ross Sea required approaching aircraft to stay above Mt. Erebus' elevation, then drop rapidly for the approach to Williams Field. The C-121route required skirting the Ross Sea and Beauford Island then proceeding straight into Willy Field
"I can remember being able to see [Outer] Williams Field from about thirty miles out as we descended for our approach. The front of the storm was like a great white impregnable wall just to the south of the ice runway. We flew almost directly over the airfield buildings as we raced to be at the storm, but we lost".
As the crew began to receive vectors from the radar approach, they secured everything aboard the aircraft. The crew briefed the passengers on evacuation procedures should the landing attempt be unsuccessful.
"We made six or seven ASD radar approaches. After each abortive approach our flight engineer reported to the commander of our fuel status and after the sixth approach the news we did not want to hear. Only enough fuel for one more approach and fifteen minutes of holding remained until they were completely out of fuel"
He tells of Cdr. Greau informing the crew that he was descending to 100 feet on the next approach, and if Cdr. Avery, the first pilot, could see any part of the runway, he should assume control of Pegasus and land the old girl.
If they could not see the ice runway, they were to climb to 500 feet and intercept the Precision Approach Radar Glide Path for the skiway at Williams Field some twelve miles away, retract the wheels for a wheels up landing on the skiway normally used by the ski-equipped C-130's, as there was not enough fuel for an another approach.
"We began with a certain apprehension, the adrenaline was now pumping and I had responsibilities to carry out in an emergency. We all tightened our seat belts a little tighter and made sure that there was nothing in our shirt pockets to scratch our faces"
Cdr. Avery caught a glimpse of the runway at about 100feet above the ice and called for Control of the aircraft.
"I can remember vividly that he had completely idled the engines and dived for the ice runway. We landed very hard but would probably have suffered little or no damaged had several frozen snow drifts not formed on the runway while we were making our first approach."
Such was the force of the Antarctic storm. Unlike the Hercules, the Connie did not have skis touching down on the ice; the Connie used wheels on high struts.  Immediately on hitting the ice, Cdr. Avery placed all four engines into full reverse, just as the right main gear impacted the snowdrift. This caused the aircraft to veer rapidly to the right and turned about 210 degrees clockwise and slide backwards to the right of the runway.
O'Keefe recalls the right wing tip contacting the ice as it slid backwards. "I remember watching with absolute horror, the No. 4 propeller spinning off the engine. Moments later No. 4 engine ripped off its mount as if by some giant hand, followed by No. 3 propeller then No. 3 engine then the entire right wing. While I recall it in slow motion, I doubt that the whole chain of events took more than a few seconds."
When the Connie finally stopped sliding, the two left engines were still running at full power in reverse, as the control cables from the flight deck had been severed. At this point Cdr. Greau switched off the magnetos to secure engines.
When the main landing gear ran into a massive snowdrift, it twisted and sheared off just below its pivot point inside the gear well.  Pegasus now straddled a three to four foot high and eight-foot wide snowdrift between the nose and main landing gears.
"A very eerie temporary silence ensured," recalls Bob O'Keefe. "Hardly a word was spoken on the flight deck. Seconds later we started a rapid evacuation on the left side of the aircraft, putting all our endless hours of emergency training to work"
At 8.10pm the Connie finally slid to a stop on the frozen ice surface. It was only a half a mile from the aircraft parking and cargo staging area, but it took over three hours for anyone to locate the crashed aircraft.
Five onboard were injured, suffering from scalp lacerations, bruises and back strain. "The OIC (Office In Command) of the VX-6 winter over party, Lt. Ken Koening, was at the runway awaiting our arrival from Christchurch, with a large military terrain stake bed truck with a canvas top. This 'bus' was for transportation between McMurdo and the ice runway at [Outer] Willy Field."
Evacuating the crew and passengers was made via the left main and forward crew cargo doors. As the rest of the crew assembled the passengers away from the aircraft, one of the loadmasters stayed behind with O'Keefe to get as much as possible of the aircraft's emergency equipment unloaded as possible, as fear of fire breaking out was uppermost on their minds.
"We were able to off load all the equipment, which included several tents, which we felt could shield the passengers and crew from the now extreme wind, blistering snow and severe wind chill factor, by now affecting us all" recall O'Keefe With a 50-mph wind blowing across the ice, it was impossible for the crew to erect the tents. As half the passengers were not properly dressed, we considered they would be better off inside the Connie".  With no fuel, likelihood of fire was low and they would be out of the freezing wind and 50 plus below zero temperatures.
"The GCA radar crew at Willy Field was frantically working with Lt. Ken Koening, to locate us and get us to safety and some shelter. Ken had a radar reflector on the top of a four wheel drive vehicle and was able to talk to radar operators via a radio in his truck."
The radar operator could see the Connie on his screen and directed Lt. Koening towards the crashed aircraft. By this time, the visibility was less than 50 feet, with the snow now driving harder, nothing could be heard for more than a few feet away.
"Driving to within a couple of hundred feet from us, he could neither see nor hear us, or we him," O'Keefe recalled.  When he finally discovered our position, he radioed our status to the radar operators back at Williams Field. They then radioed the information to the squadron on the hill, while a support worker the OIC had brought with him walked behind the truck, planting flag poles, to which he attached a rope and flags."
This operation took him over 30 minutes to get back to the staging area and then drive the truck to the crash site to evacuate the first of the passengers along with the injured crew.
"I couldn't believe that it took so long to locate us. After a couple of hours, the numbing cold began to work its will on us. We were just concentrating on staying alive," O'Keefe said.
O'Keefe recalls he was the last of the crew and passengers to leave the accident scene and be transported to the staging area before being transferred into heated buses for a ride up the hill to MacTown.
"The harsh Antarctic storm lasted until the following day. By then I was finally able to get down to view my beloved Pegasus.  The snow had drifted up against the left side, almost to the top of the fuselage. The main landing gear was still sticking straight up out of the snowdrift, which had ripped off the aircraft. One could literally follow the trail of parts that had been ripped off as we slid backwards down the ice runway"
Rear Admiral D F Welch said that at the time, the crash was too close to the [still active] runway and it wasn't good morale to have a broken C-121 with only one wing lying about.  It was subsequently moved to its current location.
Bob O'Keefe remained with VX-6 in Antarctica until March 1973. Earlier this year he attended the decommissioning of the Squadron at Point Mugu Naval Air Station. While over 1600 former VX-6ers were there, the only member of the crew of that flight was the 2nd Engineer Don Bentley, now retired and living in Texas.  Mr. O’Keefe is now a tax consultant in Scottsdale and flies for a regional airline USAIRWAYS Express.
Another C-121 crashed at McMurdo on October 31, 1961, when a specially configured Super Constellation, previously used in Project Magnet, landed a hundred yards short of the ice runway. It bounced and landed 50 yards further down the Ross Sea ice approach to the airfield. Its landing gear collapsed as it veered into a snow bank, tearing off one wing and breaking the fuselage behind the wing. Only one of the 23 men aboard was injured.
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From: Billy Baker
When I flew to the ice in Oct 70, the squadron flew all of its aircraft in on Opening Day. Dave Eldridge was the CO. The Connies took off first and I think the Hercs were launched an hour of so apart. I was on the second connie. All the Hercs got to the ice first and the other Connie crashed upon landing. I have a bunch of photos that I took of the crash and I will try to find and scan them and send them to you.

Cheers!
RMC Billy-Ace Baker, USN (Ret), OAE, OBM, DKS, LSMFT
W0 DF-63, 67, 71 & 75
Summer Support DF-74 through DF-80

Saturday's sunset.


There must be an Easter bunny in Antarctica.


Dressed in my Easter outfit!

An old navy Delta passenger vehicle.

The ride reminds me of Disneyland's Mr. Toad's wild ride!
I now wear the traction device shown on the bottom.

Loading up.

The smile went away as soon as the cold soak set in. I love this place.

Sunrise seen from a Delta window.

Sunrise with Mt. Erebus on the left.

Mt. Erebus as seen from the 100 foot thick Ross Ice Shelf

What's left of the Pegasus tail.

It was too cold to add our signatures.

You can walk along the top.



Heading back to town.



Start of the transition from the ice shelf to Ross Island.










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