Night Over Water - Ken Follett [195]
However, no interference was necessary. After a moment Baker said: “Here. In this channel. That’s where we’ll come down.”
Eddie turned away so no one could see his expression of triumph. He was another step closer to Carol-Ann.
As they all went through the procedure for emergency splashdown, Eddie looked out of the window and tried to gauge what the sea was like. He saw a small white vessel like a sports fishing boat bobbing on the swell. The surface was choppy. The landing would be rough.
He heard a voice that stopped his heart. “What’s the emergency?” It was Mickey Finn coming up the stairs to investigate.
Eddie stared at him in horror. Mickey would guess in a minute that the F-valve on the hand pump had not been reset. Eddie had to get rid of him quickly.
But Captain Baker beat him to it. “Get out of here, Mickey!” he snapped. “Off-duty crew must be strapped in during an emergency splashdown, not wandering around the aircraft asking stupid questions!”
Mickey was gone like a shot, and Eddie breathed easy again.
The plane lost height rapidly: Baker wanted to be close to the water in case they ran out of fuel earlier than expected.
They turned west so as not to overfly the island: if they ran out of fuel over land, they were all dead. A few moments later they were above the channel.
There was a big swell, about four feet, Eddie estimated. The critical wave height was three feet: above that it was dangerous to land the Clipper. Eddie gritted his teeth. Baker was a good pilot, but it was going to be dicey.
The plane came down fast. Eddie felt the hull touch the top of a high wave. They flew on for a moment or two then it touched again. The second time there was a stronger impact, and his stomach lurched as the huge aircraft bounced up into the air.
Eddie was afraid for his life: this was how flying boats crashed.
Although the plane was airborne now, the impact had reduced its airspeed, so that it had very little lift; and instead of sliding into the water at a shallow angle, it would come down hard. It was the difference between a smooth racing dive and a painful belly flop except that the belly of the plane was made of the aluminum, which could burst like a paper bag.
He froze, waiting for the impact. The plane hit the water with a terrific bang that he felt all the way up his spine. Water covered the windows. Facing sideways as he was, Eddie was thrown left but managed to stay in his seat. The radio operator, who faced forward, banged his head on the microphone. Eddie thought the plane was breaking up. If it dipped a wing that would be the end.
A second passed, then another. The cries of terrified passengers floated up the staircase. The plane lifted again, coming partly out of the water and moving forward with the reduction in drag; then it sank back, and Eddie was thrown sideways again.
But the plane stayed level, and Eddie began to hope they would make it. The windows cleared and he glimpsed the sea. His engines were still roaring: they had not been submerged.
The plane slowed gradually. Second by second Eddie felt safer, until at last the plane was stationary, rising and falling on the waves. In his headphones Eddie heard the captain say: “Jesus, that was rougher than I expected,” and the rest of the crew laughed with relief.
Eddie stood up and looked out through all the windows, searching for a boat. The sun was shining but there were rain clouds in the sky. Visibility was fair, but he could not see any other vessels. Perhaps the launch was behind the Clipper, where he could not see it.
He took his seat again and shut down the engines. The radio operator broadcast a Mayday. The captain said: “I’d better go and reassure the passengers.” He went down the stairs. The radio operator got a reply, and Eddie hoped it was from the people who were waiting for Gordino.
He could not wait to find out. He went forward, opened the hatch in the cockpit and climbed down the ladder into the bow compartment.