The Death of Pelican-16
SKU
DVD-1009
This is the remarkable story about the crash of SAAF Shackleton in the Sahara in 1994.
"Superb" "Gripping". Flypast Magazine, November 2003.
(This is a limited-edition item and there only about 30 remaining)
On the morning of July 13th 1994, the headline news read “SAAF Plane Down in Desert”. Nine years later this well remembered story about the miraculous escape from death by the nineteen crew members has been brought back to life by a Cape Town film-maker.
Avro Shackleton, serial 1716 was one of eight four-engined maritime patrol aircraft commissioned by the South African Air Force in 1954. In 1993, a Shackleton enthusiast had the ambitious plan to restore one of these decommissioned aircraft and turn it into a flying museum. The name of this aircraft: Pelican-16. July1994, after ten years on the ground and two years of restoration work this magnificent aircraft flew again. Following an invitation to take part in the 1994 summer air-show circuit in the UK, Pelican-16 and its crew of 19 took off from Cape Town and headed north. But then in the dead of the blackest night, high over the Western Sahara the unthinkable happened; two engines on the starboard side failed within a period of just ten minutes. The aircraft and its crew went down. Flight commander Eric Pienaar and his crew performed a miraculous crash landing from which all walked away unaided.
The idea of making the film came to me when I heard a recording of the radio transmissions from Pelican-16 as it went down. Dramatic military efficiency done so well it is now used by the Air Force in their training as a text book example of how it should be done. I approached the SAAF Museum with the idea that while I would finance the film, they would provide the opportunity and we would both enjoy the rewards should the film be broadcast. The idea was liked so much that it eventually landed on the desk of the chief of the Air Force himself, Gen Roelf Beukes who gave it the tally-ho.
Once the project was announced to the crew it was met by unconditional support and enthusiasm. Currently serving Air Force officers, retired and Reserve Force officers all put their time aside to participate. As the story unfolded it became even more dramatic than I first thought. To my delight the crew had not only filmed the restoration and preparation of the aircraft but had filmed the crew on board, and immediately following the crash. In a sombre scene as daybreak edges over the horizon the light reveals their beloved aircraft strewn across a narrow plain between rows of steep hills. “It was a huge runway especially prepared for us”, says Mission Commander Maj Horace Blok in his testimonial. While the aircraft looked almost intact, it was destroyed.
The one year of filming, collecting news-clippings and shooting testimonials was a wonderful experience. Every time we went out to shoot, something magical happened. One of the most memorable of these was the shoot at Cape Town International Airport. Pelican-22, Pelican-16’s replacement was doing engine and fast taxis runs. Steve Searle, camera assistant and radio-ham suggested that if we could speak to the tower from his radio equipped Land Rover, maybe they would let us run alongside and shoot tracking shots on the runway. To my astonishment, air-traffic approved. And so there I was, braced on the roof-rack, camera in hand, screaming down the runway passing waiting 747s chasing a four-engined bomber. There is an unrivalled love for this aircraft and I reckon that’s why we got permission to do it.
Early March 2003, on a sunny autumn morning, the crew climbed aboard Pelican-22 for Flight commander Eric Pienaar’s final flight. Two months before the film was completed he lost his long battle with cancer. This mission: To scatter his ashes onto the gentle swell in Table Bay. Due to a faulty no.4 magneto the flight was delayed while Pottie Potgieter, chief of restoration, fixed the problem. When we eventually got airborne the light was amazing. While the crew bid their farewells, the light streamed through the open portholes and bathed the introspective crew in brilliant autumn sunshine. It was, as any film-maker will appreciate, “magic time”.
Being given the job to tell the story was a great privilege. I wanted to break the mould of South African aviation films and give it a Discovery Channel feel. The marvellous, unforgettable roar of the four Rolls Royce Griffon engines is combined with great orchestral music by Holst, Wagner and Tchaikovsky and builds into a fantastic soundtrack. Narration was done by John Dickson, recorded in London
|