`Stand by to drop. Drop now!” Two tons of water crash on flames. And the Oryx helicopter crew returns to the nearby dam to take on the next load.
“You’re in the smoke most of the time. You can’t see most of the time. If there are power lines or telephone wires, it’s a whole new scenario,” says air force pilot Major Brian Bell. “The wind and wind pockets shunt the aircraft around. The aircraft feels it. You feel it.”
Eight helicopter pilots from 22 Squadron and their machines have been stretched to the limit to help fight an estimated 120 fires in the Cape Peninsula and Boland. Five of the 13 pilots at the Ysterplaat- based unit are in Antarctica to supply the South African scientists there – another of their many tasks apart from fire-fighting.
A sandy-coloured dense haze hangs in the air over Cape Town. There is an acerbic smell of smoke. Black burnt patches are visible everywhere. Black smoke plumes hang in the air over Noordhoek and the Silvermine Nature Reserve.
As temperatures reach the high 30s, the strong winds have died down. In many places the fire is out, but smouldering timbers and coals are ready to flare up again. Thousands of hectares of vineyards, farm land and plantations have been destroyed.
On the ground, professional and volunteer firefighters are risking their lives to beat the flames – dragging heavy hosepipes to within metres of the fire. Sleep deprivation and blistered feet affect everyone. Up in the air, the pilots have to rely on information from the ground and trust it is correct. On the charred rock face of the mountain ridges around Constantia Nek, a man with a makeshift flag marks the fire line. He is the only point of reference for the Oryx crew apart from their own eyes.
It is a precise, professional operation. There is no time to greet the children waving from the sandy sides of the farm dam. All eyes are on the instruments and controls to keep the R45-million helicopter steady.
“If every second drop you miss or you throw [water] on the wrong side of the fire, you are just wasting everyone’s time,” says Bell.
Hovering above the water at a little over 3m, the flight engineer checks the bucket fills correctly. Crouching above a small hole in the floor of the aircraft he has monitored the orange collapsible “bambi bucket” since take-off. On his command – “on the green” – the aircraft lifts and accelerates despite the weight of the water.
The helicopter heads towards the cliff into the smoke and sun. Almost at the rocks, the command comes: “Drop now!” The flight engineer hits a button. A burst of water hits the flames. The Oryx is lighter; the pilot instantly adjusts the instruments and the aircraft safely passes the mountain ridges. It’s back to the dam.
After more than a dozen sorties over the Constantia homes with their sparkling blue pools, the fire on Constantia Nek seems under control. Fire-ravaged Hout Bay is the next destination. Three helicopters criss- cross the smoke-engulfed valley.
The dam there seems no bigger than a watering hole. One of the Oryx helicopters hovers in the air, waiting for another to fill up. The pilot jokes about the size of the dam. “It’s deep,” he says, adding the bambi bucket tends to lean forward on take- off.
There is some light-hearted banter to break the tension in the cockpit. Then deep orange flame bursts through the trees on the mountain. A load of water is dropped and what remains is just smoke.
“When you see a fire, when you get there it’s roaring and dangerous. And to look back at that and see no smoke – it’s great,” says Bell.
In the corridors of the 22 Squadron base there is a certificate awarded for professional service to the community for helping fight fires in the Western Cape. It is dated April 1999.
There are also letters of thanks and a framed photograph of the Wilderness coastline from the local ratepayers’ association to the pilots who saved their homes last year.
Unlike elsewhere in the world, where there are dedicated helicopter firefighters, airborne sea or mountain rescuers, and supply and personnel pilots, 22 Squadron takes pride in being able to do all of the above. Bell says job satisfaction is high and that is why many stay even though they could earn more in the private sector.
But the hours of top concentration take their toll. Fatigue is something on everyone’s mind because it can lead to errors. Pilots are limited to six hours’ flying time a day. And this limit is observed with military precision.
“When you get home from sorties, from six hours of fire-fighting, the guys are clapped,” says Bell.
The three-member crew has now been in the air for one hour and 12 minutes. They have made 18 drops. It is time to return to base because the co-pilot has clocked up his maximum flying time for the day.