I stared blankly at my computer screen two hours into our flight from Los Angeles, USA to Brisbane, Australia. I questioned what could possibly be worth writing about on a 14 and a half hour flight. Don’t get me wrong—man’s capability of flight surpasses common sense and is among mankind’s greatest achievements. The ability to sit in a seat long enough to wake up in a different place is a miracle, but if you’ve been on one flight you’ve been on them all. Cramped quarters, sleep deprived strangers, and the deafening roar of jet engines can sap the energy from even the most positive people.
I closed my laptop and resigned in defeat. Just as I considered taking a nap, something caught my eye. Several lights flickered on to call for a flight attendant. A flurry of activity began ahead of me and to the right side of the plane. Two people were staring out the window and taking videos. I reminded myself to breathe. Images of exploding planes were conjured to mind without my consent. Planes only crashed in dramatic fashion in the movies, right? One of the pilots hurried to the seat and stared out the tiny window. He scurried back to the cockpit as quickly as he had arrived. Business went on as usual without any announcement.
A young woman sitting in the middle aisle leaned over and quietly held out her smartphone. She played a video that was taken moments before which showed sparks or flames ejecting from one of the engines. So it was serious. A voice from overhead finally explained that, after three hours of flight, we would be returning to LA. An intensity filled the air as hundreds of people wondered what was wrong. The captain only mentioned that the plane had to return for safety reasons. People took their seats and the plane banked hard to return the way it came from.
Over the next three hours, those in the window seats kept close watch over the engine and called the flight attendants with alarming frequency. I tried to fall asleep to avoid thinking so much about what might happen to us in the middle of ocean at midnight. Minutes from landing, three loud bangs came from underneath our feet. Despite warnings from the crew, one man unbuckled his seat belt and went to report that the flames seemed to be getting worse. Another man began yelling for the first man to sit down. Surely these would be our final moments.
As we touched down, I half expected for the plane to combust. Dozens of emergency vehicles and firetrucks seemed to support my hypothesis as they zoomed along the runway to meet us. Despite the commotion, the engine settled down and there was no flame left to extinguish.
Later, I stood outside the LA airport, further from Australia than eight hours before. I guess I did have something to write about after all.
