Last week, I received an email from Bob Fore, wonderfully titled ‘I Am The Helicopter Pilot In The North Sentinal Rescue’ and telling of Bob’s role in the rescue of the sailors of the Primrose, who were stranded on a coral reef off North Sentinel Island, and under attack by the Sentinelese tribe.

Mr. Mottram,

It was with no small amount of interest that I read the article (while surfing the internet) that you wrote on the 9th of February, 2006 concerning a helicopter rescue in the Andaman Islands located in the Bay of Bengal. You see, I was one of the helicopter pilots that flew the three trips to the M.V. Primrose to rescue the crew after it ran aground off the north shore of North Sentinal Island.

For the most part, [the] description of the incident was correct, thought there were several points that were in error, almost certainly because they were of no major import. One of the inconsistencies was that the helicopter which performed the rescue was in fact a civilian helicopter belonging to P.T. Airfast Services, Indonesia, which we worked for. We were supporting an Oil And Natural Gas Commision (ONGC- Indian Govt. Agency) contract, which provided off-shore helicopter support to an oil exploration rig (if memory serves, it was the Gettysburg) located off the northwest shore of Andaman Island. Robert Fore (myself) and Vic Wiersba) were the two pilots which flew the mission on August the 2nd, 1981.

We had a developed a friendship with Admiral Sawnhi, the Indian Naval District Commander, during our stay at Port Blair. We were approached by his office on the morning of the rescue with the information concerning a grounded ship with crew still aboard on North Sentinel Island. There had been a typhoon which forced the ship aground on the island in the preceeding week. We were asked if we could provide rescue services for the crew, since the Indian Navy had no ships or helicopters in the immediate area, and it would take several days for them to arrive.

We agreed to attempt the rescue, but had little in the way of concrete information to work with in the preparations for the attempt. We did construct a rudimentary rope ladder in the event we would not be able to land the helicopter on the Primrose’s deck. Also, an Indian Naval aviator (fixed-wing) Lt. Gadhok, who was assigned to the Naval District Command, volunteered to accompany us. It was hoped he might provide valuable support for organizing the crew for rescue, once he was on-board the ship.

The aircraft was an S-58T Sikorsky, a modified twin-turbine design helicopter, which could hold a max of 16 passengers and 2 pilots. We flew to the site of the shipwreck, and saw that the vessel had been driven far up on the reef, more than a 1/4 mile, and that while there was still large 15 or 20 foot waves pounding the vessel, there was no chance that it would sink, or for that matter ever see service again.

The deck had several cranes spaced approximately 50 feet apart, with cargo hatches in between. It was felt that we would be able to land the helicopter with a couple feet of clearance on both sides of the rotor system to the sides of the helicopter. We accomplished the first landing with 30 plus knot crosswinds, and touched down our wheels on the hatch covers. Due to loading, and weather conditions, it was decided to take off equal numbers of crewmen on each of 3 trips. I believe the total was 33 crew, and the mascot dog. We did not take any personal gear, because that would have meant extra trips, and under the poor weather conditions we did not have any desire to push our luck any more than was necessary for the savings of lives.

It was well known that the ship was aground on a very dangerous island, and that they had come under the threat of attack from the native tribe. Their first attempt to reach the Primrose had failed when the rudimentary boats they had tried to construct had foundered in the heavy surf. But the situation was becoming more dangerous because of gradually improving weather conditions. This could allow the native to get much closer to the ship. As it was, the natives had not even learned the art of placing feathers on the several foot long arrows they had, which only allowed a practical effective range of perhaps 30 or 40 meters. The ship was more like 100 meters from shore.

A previous attempt to reach the crew of the Primrose was attempted by a Indian Navy (Cutter) which had no helicopter. The ships doctor and a crewman had attempted to reach the ship from just beyond the drop-off offshore, but the inflatable nearly foundered, and they were lucky to get back to their vessel. I assume they were the ones that called for assistance once they realized they could not do anything.

When we made our approach for the first landing with heavy cross-winds, it was very difficult to determine clearance on the rotor blades from the derricks. After the first landing we found we had about 2 feet of clearance on each side of the aircraft. On the subsequent approaches, Lt. Gadhok provided ground assistance for clearnace of our rotors from the obstructions. The rope ladder idea was discarded as unnecessary, even though the weather conditions were not ideal. The thought of hovering for extended periods above deck, with people climbing a rope ladder did not appeal to us. We did not at any time during the morning see any island natives. They were almost certainly there observing, but whether from fear of the helicopter, or whatever other reason, theey did not make themselves known to us. After the third trip, all aboard were rescued, and our part in the mission was concluded. A couple days later, a Indian Navy cruiser, with a Alouette helicopter arrived, and the helicopter evacuated the personal effects of the crew, I believe by using a rescue hoist.

I just thought you might find the account of interest, since you had been intrigued enough to write about this event. I do have some photographs of the ship run aground taken from the air, and during our apporach to the ship, as well as some taken on-deck after our first landing. But the photos are in storage in my household goods in the Philippines, and it will not be until later next year before I could get access to them.

Sincerely yours,

Bob Fore

Apparently, my friends and I spent those years dying our hair, getting into various states of disrepair and going to Optimo every Sunday without fail. Also, I was quite disturbingly thin, Hannah had enormous eyes, and Leon looked like a small Mancunian child.

Click on the terrifying photograph below to see a slideshow.

These images remind me of Death Watch, the completely wiggy, borderline-unwatchable 1980 Bernard Tavernier film starring Harvey Keitel, Romy Schneider and, fleetingly, Max von Sydow, which was shot in Glasgow, then the ideal location to evoke a dystopian futurescape.

Here’s a quote from Tavernier, explaining his choice of location, cribbed from erstwhile Submit Responser Len’s piece on the film:

Glasgow is a city of infinite possibilities. Everywhere you look, with the eye of a film director, there are fascinating shots, angles and juxtapositions, such as the lines of a new, modern office block contrasting with its next door neighbour, a Victorian church. Your freeway looks like something out of a modern American city, yet it leads directly on to 19th century streets.

(The subway photographs are via bonaldi’s post on MetaFilter, which I suspect may in turn be via my links, in which case this post neatly closes a subway-like loop.)

It’s about your life. Well, it’s about mine, anyway. Everything I ever taped off the radio. Every album I transferred from vinyl to tape so that I could listen to it while walking to school. Every compilation tape I made, for me or anyone else dumb and/or determined enough to listen to them. Every hour spent hunched up, surrounded by piles of records, finding something just the right length to fit at the end of the tape. Every car journey with my parents, frantically fighting for this or that tape to be played. Every album that I loved intensely for three weeks fifteen years ago, but haven’t thought about in years.

It’s about the fact that I remember Hüsker Dü’s Zen Arcade being recorded on a Sony UX Turbo 100 [“Ideal for Car Stereos”], with some Replacements on the end to fill the remaining 25 minutes. The Jesus And Mary Chain’s Psychocandy? A That’s MG-X 60, opened up and cut to exactly the right length for the album, because I was too lazy/impatient to piss about with fast forwarding to the end of the side. A taped-from-the-radio bootleg of Sonic Youth at Reading Festival, 1992, on a TDK SA-90, recorded on a September evening when I should have been studying for a French exam, and not listening to the radio and smoking fags out my bedroom window in a clumsy attempt to disguise it from my parents. This is all stuff that I have forgotten, years and years ago, and until I saw that page, I couldn’t have remembered even if my life depended on it.

That’s what it’s about.

That’s the comment equivalent of a non-stop cabaret of champagne and limousines, that is! (The preceding link will expire soon, sadly - please refer to Pseud’s Corner, Private Eye no. 1144.)

A friend asked if she should send flowers or a wreath.

On balance, I think flowers.

While certainly small, [Polanski] is slim and agile, and, like many people who lost their childhood in the Holocaust, looks much younger than his real age, which is 72.

Um, what?

This collection of early hip hop flyers is just stunning.

Some are scrawled in felt tip, others are meticulously drawn, others are marvels of sharp-knived cut and paste.

And then there’s the line-ups, which make you really, really wish Science had got its arse in gear and invented a time machine already.

Dovester, a post at A Preponderence of Evidence demonstrates that the latest thinking in the social software field is not as brand new as you might think:

The oldest club in Europe, an exclusive French society of dove breeders, used social networking tools since the late 17th century to connect its members via a handwritten newsletter, circulating from member to member, and being amended along the way. A special trust metric had been established, which allowed each breeder to rate his peers, a process in which each vote carried weight based on the casters own ratings. In addition to the mailing, which took roughly one year to travel each of the members, shortcut routes were established, usually between counties, through which smaller groups could reach other groups. To create the shortcuts, each breeder was required to name at least two “sponsors” and four breeders he sponsored. Communications between unlinked individuals had to be established by finding a connection via ones own sponsor.

And alternative currencies have a long history too, as noted by Phil Gyford of Pepys’ Diary fame:

There was a dire shortage of coins of small denominations, such as a housewife needed for everyday shopping. This had been an increasing problem since James I’s day. It had reached such proportions that something was about to be done about it when the [English] Civil War broke out. Shopkeepers evolved a pragmatic solution: trade tokens. In the 1660s, there were 3,543 ‘tokeners’ in the City, the suburbs and Westminster.

So 17th Century London was on the LETS bandwagon. See also this fascinating interview with Bernard Lietaer on money, community and social change (another link pinched from Phil).