Love of Flying

My very first flight was in a Dakota. This aircraft is an American fixed-wing propeller-driven aircraft whose speed and range revolutionized air transport in the 1930s and 1940s. Its lasting impact on the airline industry and World War II makes it one of the most significant transport aircraft ever made.

I remember flying (in luxury!) in an Indian Airlines DC-4 Skymaster sometime during the late 1950's. My sister and I traveled fairly frequently to Bangalore, from Mumbai, and we were delivered into the custody of a stewardess, who took care of us. Maybe she was extra nice to us because I have very fond memories of lovely food served in lovely cutlery aboard.

By 1957, there was a new aircraft in Indian Airlines' fold - the Vickers Viscount. A little more luxurious than the DC-4 (and I remember it as being smoother during take off and landings), this aircraft also probably boasted seats that were a little more spacious, with more leg room. The windows were also a little larger, offering a better view.

My excitement of flying probably started with the jet age in India. The very first jet that I set eyes upon was the De Havilland Comet. It was the first commercial jet in production and an aircraft was sent around the world for people to see. The fact that we saw it from outside the boundary fence (there were no walls then, just see through fences) set my pulse racing.
By the late 1950s, Air India started phasing out their propeller driven Super Constellation aircraft  and by 1960 or so had become an all jet fleet; the aircraft they opted for was the super sleek Boeing 707. In those days, our flat at Warden Road in Bombay looked out on a field where cows grazed. Believe it or not,  we once saw a Boeing 707 taking off and the cows, unfamiliar with the sound of a jet engine, stampeded hysterically! I longed for jet travel but there seemed to be one major problem - Air India flew international and I had no chance of getting on such a flight.
Many years later, I distinctly remember that I was in the library of a club in Pachmarhi, where we had gone on holiday. I was flipping through a magazine and suddenly an Indian Airlines ad leaped out at me. It announced, with great fanfare, that the airline was offering jet fights! This caught my imagination and took my breath away. Jet! Something new! (50 years + later, I can still see that ad in my mind's eye.) Here was my chance!

I ran to my father and showed him the ad. "I want to go on this jet!" I told him.

"Get a first class in your studies in the final exam and I will send you on a Caravelle jet flight" was his answer.

I did get a first class in the finals and off the family went, to the Indian Airlines office in Madras, to book a ticket for me. The travel was to take place between Madras (now known as Chennai) and Bangalore. Believe it or not, the fare between Madras and Bangalore in those days was just Rs. 50! With a student concession, that halved to Rs. 25! That's what my first jet flight cost my parents.

Just as the ticket was being issued, my sister said "I want to go too!" My father immediately agreed. My protests that it was I that had earned the distinction (and not her) fell on deaf ears. It seemed really unfair to me.

On the night before the departure, I could not sleep. I tossed and turned in excitement all night long.

The flight was at around 11 am the next day. In those days there was no one-hour before departure" rule. Sadly, my parents delayed and we reached the airport only to find that a those precious window seats had gone. This also meant that my sister and I would sit separately." Ask the passenger next to you to give you his seat" was my father's parting advice to me as we left for the aircraft.

The person in the window seat was a dour looking character (a splitting image of Sheikh Abdullah of Kashmir in his heydays). He was hunched up against the window listening to a transistor radio. I asked him several times whether I could sit at the window, even using sign language, but he just didn't respond. I was, disappointingly, destined to sit in the aisle seat.

Before I knew it the flight was over; just a measly 30 minutes between Madras and Bangalore. But before the flight was over,  I had fallen in love with this graceful, rear-engined French aircraft.

Google Akashdoot, Avandoot, Pavandoot, Rashtradoot, Gagandoot, Meghdoot etc. and nothing comes up. These were the names of the Caravelles in the Indian Airlines fleet.

Akashdoot crashed on 12 October 1976 in Bombay (Mumbai), India: The right engine caught fire shortly after takeoff and the crew elected to return. Fuel flow to the engine was not stopped and the fire spread through the fuselage and led to hydraulic system failure and a loss of aircraft control shortly before landing. All six crew members and 89 passengers were killed.

Between 1969 and 1974, I traveled up and down India on Caravelles. My father was then stationed at Calcutta (now Kolkata) and one had to take a flight from Bangalore to Chennai on an Avro HS 748 before connecting on to a Caravelle. If one was seated on the left during the fight to Calcutta, one could follow the coast line of India almost all the way.

I remember one very distinctive journey. I was returning to Bangalore and we were at the airport at around 11 a.m. to catch the fight. It turned out that the captain was a friend of my father and they sat in the restaurant sharing a beer (yes, you read that right!) before the flight. The flight was announced, my parents left, and we trudged to the aircraft. Mid-way during take off the fight was aborted; the captain slammed the brakes and we returned to the parking bay. Apparently a bunch of bees had been sucked into the engine and damaged it.

We were at the airport all day long. Finally at 7 pm the aircraft was ready  for departure. This time, lift off was uneventful.

About an hour into the fight, the captain sent word for me. "You can stay in the cockpit if you like" he told me. I gladly accepted. I stood behind him and listened to the radio chatter and really enjoyed myself.

"Look, there are the lights of Madras" he told me a while later. "Hang on to something! We will be starting our descent!" And suddenly the aircraft nose went down and we began the glide to Madras. I was in the cockpit during the landing until the aircraft had come to a halt. Exhilarating!

The Caravelle, in my opinion, with its two-abreast seating, allowed passengers to be better serviced by the cabin crew. The aisle was just one seat away. One could get up and go to the loo or wherever with ease.

The next aircraft in the Indian Airlines stable, the Boeing 737, seemed to have ushered in the era of business travel with its high density seating arrangement. If you opted for a window seat, you were well and truly stuck. To get to the loo, you had to inconvenience your neighbors, who would perforce have to get up and exit to the aisle in order to let you out. And then the process would repeat when you returned.

Indian Airlines became the first domestic airline in the world to order the wide body Airbus A-300.

Memorable flights

I was once flying in the North-East of India on an Indian Airlines Fokker Friendship F-27. The aircraft was being buffeted by turbulence and, in spite of the "Fasten Seat Belt" sign being on, the stewardess was bravely serving coffee. She had held down on the cups so that they wouldn't fall when suddenly, six black bobs leaped towards the ceiling, splashed on the roof of the cabin, and sprayed on the passengers. The coffee literally took to the skies!

On another occasion, I was flying between Mumbai and Pune in an Avro HS0748. It was my first flight on this sector and my colleague accompanying me on the flight confided in me that these fights are extremely turbulent. "Grab your balls in one hand and your briefcase in the other" was his advice.

On our very first trip abroad, from Madras to Singapore, my wife and I were flying British Airways. I had a Business Class ticket but my wife was in Economy. When I told the British Airways representative at the airport that this was our first visit abroad, he immediately upgraded my wife to Business Class. We had heard of the goodies that one gets free on Business Class so, at the end of the flight, I asked the steward whether I could take the various things that I saw next to our seat. I will never forget his reply. "Sir" he said "those are the property of British Airways but if you were to take them, I wouldn't notice." What an amazing reply reflecting the training he had been given! Needless to say, we did not take the goodies but still remember his answer over twenty five years later!

In terms of sheer dedication, one cannot forget the flight that I undertook with two of my colleagues from Katmandu to Calcutta (now Kolkata.) This was at 9 a.m. on a day in 1986, on a Royal Nepal Airlines Boeing 727. The aircraft had just lifted off and was in steep ascent when two stewardesses came huffing and puffing, pushing a drinks trolley up the aircraft. Alcohol was served at 9.05 a.m. and, thanks to their hospitality and generosity, we were gloriously drunk when we deplaned at Calcutta. That was a first for me.

Finally, the most enjoyable flight that I have ever been on was one between Chennai and Kuala Lumpur. It was on a Malaysian Airlines Airbus A-330. Mid way through the fight the drinks trolley came, but with a difference The steward, a Sardar, was cracking jokes and serving the liquor. Someone from a few rows away asked for a miniature bottle of whisky and the steward threw him one. Soon, he was throwing packets of peanuts and mini whiskey bottles into the hands of the passengers several rows away all the while cracking jokes loudly. It was the closest to my ever having had a party in the sky.

I hope you enjoyed this article. If you have had any great "in-the-air" experiences,  drop a comment.