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Part one excerpts
Excerpt 1
Thirty miles off the coast of St. Croix, sitting beneath some five thousand
feet of water, lies the most unlikely of deep-sea wrecks. It is not the
wreck of an ocean liner or a Spanish galleon or a fishing boat caught in an
unexpected storm. This wreck is that of a passenger jet. The exact condition
of the aircraft is unknown. It has remained unseen in the dark depths of the
Caribbean Sea for more than thirty-five years. What is known is the
condition of the aircraft before it sank.
The plane remained afloat and intact for at least five to ten minutes. The
galley door and two of the four overwing exits had been opened. There was a
hole in the forward cargo compartment large enough to allow several aircraft
tires to float free. Witnesses reported watching the plane bank to the right
then sink nose first. From there, it would have continued its mile-long dive
until finally hitting the sea bed.
No attempts have ever been made to recover the aircraft or any of the flight
recorders. The cost of recovery simply outweighs the value of what might be
retrieved. Treasure seekers might find a few items of interest. There is a
blue suitcase discarded by one passenger who claims that the suitcase
contained over $135,000 in jewelry. Another passenger claims to have left
behind a briefcase containing several hundred thousand dollars in cash. The
veracity of these claims has yet to be proved or disproved. Little else of
value remains inside the fuselage: a few purses, reading glasses, a wine
bottle. There are four twenty-five-man life rafts still secured inside the
large bins mounted in the ceiling. Somewhere in the debris inside the cabin
are two cameras containing rolls of undeveloped film that captured the last
moments of the ill-fated flight. There is something else inside, however, of
great importance to a number of people � clues to what might have happened
to those who didn�t make it out.
Excerpt 2
As ALM 980 thundered into an azure sky, the president and CEO of Overseas
National Airways, thirty-eight-year-old Steedman Hinckley, was at a family
gathering in Virginia. It was a much needed break for Steedman. He had been
working non-stop for months and had been looking forward to getting away
from New York for a few days. He spent the afternoon relaxing with his
family and enjoying the warm spring weather while his parents doted on his
one-and-a-half-year-old daughter Annalisa. It would turn out to be a short
reprieve. Before the day was through, Steedman would be consumed with
concerns over the fate of the passengers and crew aboard ALM 980, the future
of his airline, and the role a business decision he had made weeks earlier
might have played in the tragedy that was to take place that afternoon.
Excerpt 3
As fall passed into winter and the January start date inched closer,
additional problems surrounding the flight surfaced. Adam Paul Salkind, the
head of the navigators union, had learned of the plans for the St. Maarten
route and pointed out to Steedman that according to their contract a
navigator was required to be on board. Steedman took the contract to Bob
Wagenfeld, ONA�s corporate attorney and a former ONA navigator himself, and
asked him to take a look. Wagenfeld told Steedman that Salkind was correct.
The contract specifically stated that a navigator was required on any flight
that was flown over water for more than two hours. Steedman asked Wagenfeld
if he thought there was any chance the union would be willing to amend the
contract. Wagenfeld told him he didn�t think so. There were only
twenty-eight navigators employed by ONA, and these twenty-eight had already
been notified that their jobs were going to be phased out starting May 1,
1971 due to automation.
Despite Wagenfeld�s comments, Steedman asked Salkind if he would consider
amending the contract. He began by reminding Salkind that the DC-9 was a
two-man cockpit. The only seat available for a navigator was an
uncomfortable observer�s seat intended for only short duration flights. He
pointed out that there was only a small segment of the route where normal
navigation would be unavailable and that he intended to install a Long Range
Navigation (LORAN) system in the DC-9 for that portion of the flight. The
pilots could be trained to use the LORAN in two or three days. He also
mentioned that several airlines were operating a similar route from New York
to San Juan and that they were flying the route without navigators. Salkind
refused to budge on the contract, stating that he had an obligation to the
remaining navigators to keep them flying for as long as possible.
Steedman wasn�t one to wage war with the unions. He had maintained a good
working relationship with the company�s employee groups and wanted to keep
it that way. He put the issue aside and shifted his attention to a new
problem that developed in early December. Steedman learned that the FAA had
turned down ONA�s request for a special waiver for the single-engine
drift-down procedure, stating that an alternate route was available. The FAA
claimed that the route could be flown legally via the Bahamas. But flying
over the Bahamas required a large deviation, necessitating a fuel stop or an
extra fuel tank. The distance from New York to St. Maarten via Nassau was
nineteen hundred nautical miles; the direct distance was fourteen hundred
nautical miles. Without a more direct route the flight was economically
unfeasible.
A few weeks before the flights were scheduled to begin, Steedman was faced
with yet another problem. He was informed by Douglas Aircraft that the
earliest date that it could schedule the DC-9 for the installation of the
auxiliary fuel tank was March 1970 -- two months after the planned start
date. Steedman phoned Octavio to discuss the latest setback. He told Octavio
that despite the problems he would agree to fly the route even if it meant
flying via the Bahamas and making a fuel stop. But there was nothing he
could do to get the extra fuel tank installed earlier than March. The two
men discussed the pros and cons of delaying the start date. Both agreed that
waiting until March or April to begin the flights didn�t make good business
sense. They would miss the peak travel season. Octavio agreed to amend the
wording of the contract, pushing back the requirement for the auxiliary fuel
tank. The final lease agreement was signed with the following statement:
�Overseas shall arrange and install a center tank to increase the fuel
capacity of this aircraft by 780 gallons on or before April 1, 1970.�
For reasons that will be explained shortly, as ALM 980 made its way to St.
Maarten on May 2, 1970, the auxiliary fuel tank had yet to be installed.
Click here for part two excerpts
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