Stories of the Air: The Rock Without Name

The air freighter cleared Temple Bar within seconds and prepared for landing. The pilots were looking through the window into the black, moonless night. Suddenly, a huge, dark shape burst into view. Frantically, the pilot grabbed the controls and yanked them back as hard as he could, trying to lift the plane in a last ditch effort, but it was too late……

On a crisp desert morning my companion and I decided to challenge ourselves with a hike to the crash site of the Westwind 1124 VH-AJS.  I drive by this site almost every day and look up at the inhospitable cliff face in wonder, tinged with a feeling of morbidity and a kicked-bucket, full of awe.

 

The kangaroos on the edge of the escarpment

There isn’t a track to be found except the ones Kangaroos have ground out. The first 300 metres was steep, with slippery rubble and several loose rocks that tumbled down the slope disturbed by my large, clumsy feet.  Lexi, who was following me at the time, jumped sideways to avoid the avalanche and  decided to run around me and lead me out. Smart dog!

In an exhale of relief and with a fine layer of sweat to offer the cold wind, we reached the flat area up the top.  From below, it doesn’t look like there is any room, but there is a spinifex covered strip of level ground along the range about 200 metres wide in most places. It seems that birds, reptiles and kangaroos have lived here without any disturbance for many a year.

 

Dodging spinifex all the way

 

 

And then the unthinkable happened during a dark night on 27 April 1995.

Rod Cramer heard the explosion of 14,000 litres of A1 jet fuel at the Temple Bar Caravan Park from about 4 km's away and put his SES (State Emergency Service) uniform on and made his way up to this yet to be named rock.

“Initial impact occurred when the right wingtip tank struck a rock on the north-western edge of the escarpment. The first major impact occurred 60 metres further on when the landing gear and the lower fuselage struck large rocks. The fire trail began at this point. The aircraft then progressively broke up as it continued across the top of the escarpment before cart wheeling into a ravine on the southern side. The wings and empennage, along with both engines, were at the base of the ravine. Most components had been severely affected by fire.”

Information taken from the report of the Bureau of Air Safety Investigation

First sighting

My heart sunk and a lump forced itself into my throat when I came across the first piece of debris, a small metal rectangle with two screws neatly punched through the metal.

Feeling uncomfortable about something, I continue on in a diagonal line across the top of the range. I found torn metal, smashed boxes with wires and unrecognisable bits and pieces that once formed a sleek machine that sliced through the sky with ease.

The broken wings flung some way down a narrow ravine - this is a sad place to be.

 

Grass starting to take over

The two pilots and a passenger, the report stated,....died instantly.

 

Rod spent 24 hours on top of the range and found himself in charge of recovering the three bodies. ”It is one of the hardest physical things I have ever done” he said as the loaded stretcher had to be hauled up the steep, rocky slope and carried to the helicopter on top.

He knew a couple of people that worked on the recovery that were affected by what they saw. Rod used the words ‘privilege’ and ‘respect’ to describe his feelings of that night - he appeared to be at ease talking about the whole ordeal.

Photo of an identical Westwind 1124 VH-AJS

 

Cargo was spread around everywhere according to Rod. People's tax returns were found and bizarre specimen jars of human tissue.  A huge amount of US Dollars had scattered itself across the top like a lucrative snowfield.

Rod - third from top left in training at Kings Canyon with his SES mates

 

How can such a thing happen?  What in earth's name causes a well-equipped, modern plane to crash on a mountain?







A piece of hose

 

The crash report of the Westwind is an involved, detailed document. The plane's engines were humming in the background on the cockpit recorder. This means  the crash wasn't caused by any mechanical failure. The investigator concluded in his report that the minima was set too low by the pilots being a recipe for disaster. It was set for 2300 feet rather than the prescribed 2700. A pinch of forgetfulness with a few grams of shortcutting and some inadequate checking of the flight path finding it's way on the menu. It becomes clear in the report that the two pilots didn’t get along, had argued on a previous flight and that any discrepancy in altitude could have been ignored due to their, this time fatal, level of ill-feeling towards each other.




Part of a water bottle

This is a beautiful spot, high above the life and sounds of Ilparpa Road. The views from here are spectacular – The Gap – Airport – Temple Bar – nothing but sky. A white cross is now standing near the broken wings of the Westwing overlooking the world.

 

Lexi looking down at Ilparpa road from the initial point of impact

On the way back, Lexi started chasing kangaroos and I could hear her yapping delightfully in the distance, even though she would never be fast enough to catch any of them. My mind went to the guys that lost their lives up there, wondering what it would be like. Staring imminent death in the face, much alike looking into the barrel of a gun that is about to go off. Never mind who was at fault, who was squabbling with who or who forgot what. The truth is that any man who faces such a final shock like these highly skilled pilots and their passenger did, makes them, in my opinion, heroes in their own right.

Lets not forget that they belong to families that never saw them return. Their spirits forever lingering at the rock without name.

 

The cross on the edge of the ravine

 

 Grey Bits

Let your mind rome to the amazing job the SES are doing. Well done for making our world a better place to live!

If you want to check out the SES and maybe even join this valuable organisation as a volunteer, check out this website www.ses.sa.gov.au

If you like to have a read of the full report of the Westwind crash you can find it on my website
https://www.facebook.com/storiesfrommars

If the range ever were to be named, I suggest we call it the Westwind Range.

 




This willy wagtail appeared surprised with our company

The Chamber of Pillars.

Just 160 kilometres of shake, rattle and dust on a corrugated track separates us from one of the red centres most obscure government run campsites, the Chambers Pillar. We finally ventured out on a weekend when Alice Springs was dancing around a pole in May, in an almost pagan/hippy roman tradition.

Just when you think it is safe enough to crank the car up to a hundred km per hour, a rough dip will play basketball with your off-roader or a bend will slide you through a corner as if Brocky was still alive. After about a hundred kilometres, we stopped to look at the Indigenous art expo at the village of Titjikala, but found that in an act of sheer defiance to the rules of capitalism the exhibition was closed on a public holiday weekend.

Around ten kilometres before arrival, a short but steep drive takes you up a high ridge where the views are 360 degrees and worth stopping for, especially that first glimpse of the Chambers Pillar. Down the hill two gates are to be negotiated by the co-driver. At one of the gates there is a sign advising you to mount your pole with a red flag to the front of your car ‘now’, to warn oncoming traffic that you are rounding the crest.  Yeah!!! Darn!!! Forgot to bring my flagpole. I was tempted to sit on top of the car waving my red undies around, but thought it too dusty up there. Two or three of those apexes were quite hair-raising. For seconds, all you can see is the bonnet creating that out of control feeling. One day someone is going to land their front wheels on someone else's bonnet.

The main event

There is a lot going on at the chamber of pillars.

For sure the highlights are the columns that have stood here as long as anyone can remember. Even though the name Chamber is of a wealthy businessman who sponsored first time explorer John MacDouell Stuart out here; the name itself evokes the feeling of a space with the pillar and surrounding rock features holding up the roof of the world. The colour changes of these rocks at dawn and dusk are truly spectacular, almost emotionally so.

 

This rock formation visible from our campsite - notice nature's window

The Indigenous locals believe that a knob-tailed gecko warrior named Itirkawara rebelled against tribal law by sleeping around with woman forbidden to him. He came to these sand dunes, took a breather, and tragically transformed into a stone pillar. The woman he travelled with turned her head away and became what is now known as Castle Rock. The message is loud and clear for future generations. If you hadn't learned it by now here it is again; don’t mess with the wrong woman.

The knob tailed gecko courtesy of Milan Zygmunt



Castle Rock from this angle looks a lot like a submarine

Some of the oldest graffiti created by the earliest settlers of the red centre is found in relatively sophisticated carvings on the rocks and surrounding the pillar. Willshire and W Bennett (mounted police), Frank Wallis (store keeper of Alice Springs) and William and Mary Hayes who’s family still owns land around here; just to name a few dating back as far as 1884.  Little did our forefathers know that this form of historical acknowledgement of hard sweat and toil, set the precedence for an all-in eyesore of epic proportions. Who would have thought that 'John 1996' thought it necessary to etch his name into history, along with countless others. Never mind that by carving your name into the soft rock, one accelerates the erosion process of this amazing ancient column . The pillar is as the newspaper clipping in the gazebo said  ‘being loved to death’ even at the risk of a $2000 fine.

The John Ross party came through in 1870 whilst scouting the area for the overland telegraph line

There are some great short walks around the rock formations and the climb up the pillar is a must. There is a sunset and sunrise viewing area and wildlife is abundant according to the information on the boards. We spotted a large variety of birds including and a couple of bats. The southern boobook owl, mulga snake and spinifex hopping mouse were a little shy.

The camping is sublime at La Chambre as French friends of ours elegantly called it. Even a long weekend attracted a low number of visitors. The bush campsites were spaced out with fire pits working overtime during the fresh evenings. This is the Northern Territory in full flight - you can pick your favourite star out of a galaxy as clear as picking sultanas out of a cinnamon scroll.




No stars this night but just a spectacular sky

The rocks at the foot of the pillar

Reluctantly, we started our journey home - leaving a beautiful place like this is always hard. We passed through a large barren area where ahead of us a cow tried to outrun our superior human invention. In true bovine fashion it stuck to the road exhausting itself, until she became tired and came to a grinding halt. We parked right next to it and admired the brahman black and white features of the meat production line of Australia, when it unabashedly lifted its tail and just let go of this intense tinkle whilst staring us out.

           

Two minutes down the road Julie spotted a skinny, lone dingo. The Dingo ran away from us but at a distance ran parallel to the slow driving car as Julie hung out, taking photos of the cantering native.  But wouldn’t you know it?  We found the answer to the Australian version of the question concerning bears, woods and stating the obvious. Does a dingo crap in the desert?




 Picture courtesy of Julie from a moving vehicle
 

 Apparently!

Grey Bits

Check out this fabulous photographer at http://www.milanzygmunt.com/reptiles/nephrurus-levis-knob-tailed-gecko-gekon-knoflikovy/