Airship Over Atherton

by Christopher Cummings

  By now the airship was two hundred metres away and over the roofs of the first houses. All the friends could do was watch and follow. The TV crew walked with them and the Radio Van drove along beside them, the commentator giving a live broadcast. Another police car and an ambulance arrived and joined the growing procession of vehicles. The main road did a sharp bend to the right and went up over the crest of the hill. This took the people away from the drifting airship so they walked as fast as they could.

  Once over the crest the road went downhill for a hundred metres before doing a sharp turn to the left. This led the group back towards the airship which had drifted across that part of the town. As they moved down the road a crowd of the curious began to gather. It seemed no time at all before children of all ages swarmed in the street, followed by dozens of adults. People came out of their houses to gape, then to follow.

  As the crowd moved down the hill they went into the fog again. The airship could just be seen as a hazy blob above them. It appeared to lose altitude, but remained at roughly the same height above the ground, about fifty metres up. The end of the rope was at least ten metres above the roofs of the houses.

  “The rope might catch in a tree,” Peter suggested hopefully.

  But it didn’t. The airship drifted slowly on, across the main road near the swimming pool and across towards the hospital. There was a wail of sirens. Flashing red lights appeared in the now rapidly thinning mist. Two fire engines arrived. More and more people joined the throng slowly moving down the footpath. The police found they had a real traffic problem on their hands as more and more cars came from both directions.

  Stephen shook his head and gave a chuckle. “Looks like the whole town has turned out to witness Roger’s maiden flight,” he commented.

  “Don’t joke Steve,” Graham snapped. “Roger isn’t safe yet.”

  By this time the first rays of the sun had reached over the brow of the hill to light up the airship again. It drifted across the show grounds, narrowly missing the grandstands. For a few moments it looked as though it would catch in one of the big trees surrounding the ground but it spun and slid sideways on past them. Then it floated close above the hospital.

  Noddy smirked and said, “If he is going to crash this is the place to do it.”

  “Why?” Peter queried.

  “Not far to go to the doctor,” Noddy answered.

  “Shut up Noddy!” Graham snapped.

  The group walked on as the airship drifted out across the tops of the trees in the park beyond the hospital. Here the ground sloped down to a creek but the airship stayed just above the branches. Several times the end of the rope dragged though the upper leaves and Graham fervently hoped the loop on the end of it would snag. But it didn’t and the airship drifted slowly on. The mist swirled and thinned as convection currents began to stir it. The airship bobbed along, slowly rotating. Roger just sat and looked down.

  Noddy pretended to aim a gun at the airship. “You could shoot holes in the balloons,” he suggested to Sergeant Carmody. Roger’s parents were aghast and glared at him.

  Sergeant Carmody frowned. “Don’t be stupid boy! We are in the middle of a town,” he snapped.

  “Just trying to help,” Noddy replied. “That’s how Willy’s uncle brought down their first airship when it got away.”

  The sergeant gave Willy’s parents a hard look. They both looked even more distressed. The TV reporter pricked up his ears and elbowed his way over to draw Noddy aside.

  By 7am Roger had drifted right across the park and was over the tree lined creek. A crowd of several thousand people moved below it, watching and pointing. The fog suddenly cleared away to leave a crisp, clear morning. The breeze began to increase, stirring the leaves and pushing the airship along faster. Baffled by the mountains towering up only a kilometre or so to the west, the wind appeared to have no clear pattern except that the airship’s general direction of movement was now north.

  The airship drifted across the small creek and then on towards the Atherton State High School. The crowd and vehicles followed, harassed police trying to control and divert traffic. Angry parents kept calling to children to come home to have breakfast, but the kids had no trouble losing themselves in the crowd. At the entrance to the High School the airship drifted between two big trees and Graham watched with his heart in his mouth as the dangling rope slid over the powerlines. But it did not catch and the airship floated on over the school grounds.

  “He’s losing height,” Peter observed as they reached the lower entrance to the high school. “Or rather, the ground is rising. Come on, this might be our chance.”

  The boys had remained near the front of the crowd. Peter now set off at a run, followed by the others. Hundreds of kids set off after them, to the consternation of the police who tried unavailingly to stem the rush.

  Peter ran through the lower gate of the High School, just as Roger floated over about thirty metres up. The airship began to drift slowly over the sports sheds and then across the school oval. For half a minute or so it looked as though it ,might catch on the Assembly Hall but a gust of wind baffled this movement and sent it drifting on towards the main buildings. Peter looked around and then pointed to the left of the buildings. Graham saw that, beyond the school, the ground fell away again, with many kilometres of open farmland beyond that. Worse still a high voltage powerline was visible in the distance.

  There were more big trees and Roger made a grab at the top leaves of one that the airship drifted into. For a few seconds it looked like he might succeed but then the thin branch snapped off and the airship moved on. The rope again slid through the branches without snagging and Graham swore in frustration.

  Peter ran along under the airship and yelled up, “Roger, this might be your last chance for a while. Can you drop more rope?”

  “No,” Roger cried back. “This is all there is.”

  “Not half long enough,” Peter replied. He was puffing hard now as he had to jog to keep up with the airship. Behind them the crowd was surging through the school gate and across the oval. An angry groundsman with a red, angry face began yelling at them but was ignored.

  Stephen called up: “Roger, get that other rope that is in the basket and tie it to the mooring rope.”

  “I can’t. It’s gone. Willy took it.”

  “Where’s Willy?” Stick shouted.

  “He.........” Roger called, but he was drowned out by the clatter of a helicopter. It was a TV news ‘chopper’ which began to circle low around the airship.

  Graham studied the layout. “Roger, pedal as hard as you can and see if you can reach the school buildings,” he shouted. Then he called, “Come on!” to his friends and set off at the run across the oval towards the buildings.

  Roger looked around and began to pedal. The airship slowed as the propeller bit. Then it swung round and began to push slowly towards the nearest building. The crowd let out a cheer and Roger redoubled his efforts. The boys reached the first building but, it being a public holiday, all the doors were locked.

  Graham looked in both directions, almost dancing with exasperation. “Quick. We must get on the roof somehow,” he said. The three boys ran up the stairs and began to climb along the security grille on the outside of the first floor veranda. Hampered by their army boots Graham and Peter made slow work of this but Stephen scrambled up like a monkey till he could grab the roof guttering. In a moment he had swung himself up onto the roof.

  Roger was visibly tiring by this time but the airship was still making crab-like progress towards the building. Stephen stood and eyed the rope dangling below the airship. The loop at the end of it looked to be at about the same height as him- perhaps a bit higher. Graham clawed his way up onto the roof and turned to help Peter up. The crowd began to shout encouragement. The police yelled for them to be careful and to stop taking risks. The whole schoolyard looked to be one vast crowd of excited people.

  Stephen moved slowly along the ridge of the roof. Graham follo
wed him. They were two floors up and it looked a long way down. He felt very precarious. ‘One slip and we could be killed,’ he thought anxiously.

  But Stephen seemed to ignore the probable consequences of a fall and hurried ahead, his whole being concentrated on the rope. The airship crept towards him at a snail’s pace until it was over the roof. By then Roger was red in the face and gasping from the effort.

  The bowline at the end of the rope came slowly towards Stephen. He reached up, ready to grab it. Then it stopped only a metre or so from his hand. The breeze increased, nullifying Roger’s frantic efforts.

  “Grab it! Grab it!” Roger croaked. “I can’t keep this up much longer.”

  The bowline began to recede. Stephen looked up and saw that Roger was pedalling fit to bust. The breeze was beating him. The airship was moving slowly sideways and backwards. The bowline was not only getting further away it was getting relatively higher as the slope of the roof went down.

  Suddenly Stephen ran down the roof and sprang. There was a gasp of horror from the crowd as he jumped up, right on the edge of the roof. His right hand touched the rope and closed on it. For an instant he dangled by one hand, clear over the edge. Grimly he hung on and got a grip with his other hand. Then he began to climb up, hand over hand.

  The crowd sighed with relief. Stephen kept climbing but his weight was enough. The airship sank slowly down so that, by the time he had reached the frame, his feet were low enough for Stick, who was on the driveway in front of the building, to grab.

  Dozens of people rushed forward to grab the airship. The police had to struggle to hold back the crowd and to keep order. Roger’s parents forced their way through and rushed to him as he climbed unsteadily off. Roger visibly trembled in every muscle and was on the edge of collapse. For a few moments he was quite unable to speak, just gulped in lungfuls of air. His mother and father embraced him and he clung to them then slowly sank down to the ground.

  “I... I’m alright,” Roger croaked. “I’m just a bit worn out.”

  Willy’s parents were brought forward by Senior Constable Grey. Marjorie and Shona followed them.

  “Where’s Willy?” demanded Mrs Williams and Marjorie together.

  “He... he’s.... he’s in a ... in a tree,” Roger puffed, pointing out towards the distant mass of the Lamb Range.

  Mrs Williams was visibly horrified. “In a tree! Is he safe?” she cried.

  Roger nodded. “Yes... Well, he was when I last saw him,” he replied. He began to tremble and shiver. Paramedics pushed through and elbowed the parents aside. They wrapped Roger in a thermal blanket and lifted him onto a stretcher. They were followed by a doctor who tried to stop the parents asking questions.

  “I’m a doctor. The questions can wait. This boy needs attention,” the doctor said.

  “I’m a doctor too!” Willy’s mother blazed. “And my son is still in danger and this boy knows where he is. He can last a few more minutes.”

  Roger nodded. “I’m alright. I’m just cold.” He sniffed and turned to Mrs Williams.

  “When did you last see Willy,” Mrs Williams asked.

  “Just before sunset yesterday,” Roger replied. His teeth began to chatter and tears started flowing down his cheeks.

  “The boy is dehydrated and is probably suffering from exposure,” the doctor said, feeling Roger’s pulse.

  “He undoubtedly is but he won’t die from them now,” Willy’s mother replied sharply. “Now Roger, where exactly was Willy when you last saw him?”

  “In a big tree on top of those mountains. The airship snagged in the tree and he used a rope to pull me up. I was hanging from the mooring rope. Just after he got me up onto the airship a gust of wind tore the airship loose and he was left in the tree,” Roger explained.

  “Do you know exactly where?” Willy’s father asked.

  “No. Sorry. I was ... I was a bit disoriented,” Roger replied miserably. He began to tremble again.

  Graham and Peter, having climbed down from the roof, joined them. Graham asked: “Roger did the airship only catch once in a tree?”

  Roger nodded. “Y... Ye… Yes. Sorry. I… I’m c… c... c... cold.”

  Graham looked up at the worried adults. “Then we know almost exactly where the tree is. We took a compass bearing on it when it caught; and we actually saw it break loose last night. We can drive there in an hour.”

  People pressed forward to hear. A TV cameraman elbowed in to get a close-up. Senior Constable Grey began calling on them all to move back.

  Sergeant Carmody straightened up from where he had been crouching beside Roger and took control. “Move back please. Move back! That means you bloody kids,” this last directed at a group of curious local urchins. He moved to chase Stick and Noddy away as well. They were busy tying the airship to the stairs.

  “We are with them,” Stick explained. “We are the ground crew.”

  The sergeant recognized them and nodded. He called on his constables to move the crowd out of the school grounds then returned to the group around Roger. An ambulance made its way slowly through the ebbing crowd to join them.

  An argument had broken out over whether Roger was fit enough to drive up into the mountains to help.

  “I’m OK,” Roger maintained. “I’ll soon warm up. I’m not going to bed while my mate is still in danger, not if I can help.”

  Roger’s mother squeezed his shoulder. “Good boy.”

  “He should be in hospital,” the doctor cautioned.

  “We know that!” Willy’s mother replied. “That is where he must go, if these other boys can show us where Willy is.”

  “Then let’s get going!” Willy’s father said. “If Willy’s been up a tree all night he will be suffering badly from exposure. He could have become unconscious and have slipped.”

  Roger shook his head: “Willy had a rope. I’m sure he would have tied himself on. He might even have been able to climb down.”

  “That’s something at least,” Willy’s father sighed.

  “Come on!” Willy’s mother cried. “Minutes count and it is a long drive.”

  Senior Constable Grey spoke up: “You are right. Minutes may count. Let’s save ourselves the drive. Here comes the Emergency Services helicopter. We will call it down and use it.”

  “Good idea Grey,” Sergeant Carmody approved. “Are you up to a helicopter ride young Roger?”

  Roger visibly brightened. “Oh yes. I’ll be OK. I’d like a drink and to go to the toilet first though.”

  “No,” Roger’s mother said. “You should go to hospital.”

  “No Mum. I won’t,” Roger replied stubbornly. “I can take the helicopter right to the place. Willy needs help. I will be alright.”

  After more argument Roger’s parents reluctantly consented. Sergeant Carmody set about organizing things. He told the ambulancemen to take Roger and his parents quickly to the hospital for a check-up and for the toilet and a drink. A constable was sent to call the helicopter down. “Grey, you organize vehicles to drive to the bottom of the range. Now, where are those kids who reckon they saw the airship stuck on the tree?”

  Graham and Peter joined Willy’s parents while Roger was whisked away. Sergeant Carmody questioned them at length and was impressed when Graham produced his maps and was able to show the magnetic bearing and also show his calculations. The helicopter landed and the pilot was called over with his crewman. Sergeant Carmody met them and explained what he wanted.

  When Sergeant Carmody indicated Graham the pilot looked at him and a puzzled frown crossed his face. The crewman also looked hard at Graham and asked: “Aren’t you the kids we rescued from that flood in the Mulgrave River in January?”

  Graham nodded. “Yes we are,” he replied. He had recognized the helicopter crew and had been having vivid memories of the earlier adventure, triggered by the sights, sound and smells of the helicopter. “I was the one who guided you along the Mulgrave Valley to the place. And Stephen there was the one who rescued the old
prospector.”

  The pilot turned to study them. “I remember now. I thought you lot looked familiar. Now, where do you want us to go?”

  Graham passed him the map and pointed to it. The pilot studied the map and repeated all the questions about where to go. “How accurate are these bearings?” he queried.

  That got Graham all huffy. “Very accurate! I’m a corporal in the Army Cadets,” he said.

  The pilot gave him a sharp look and then smiled and nodded. “OK, I didn’t mean to offend.”

  Satisfied they were going to search the right area Sergeant Carmody allocated the seats in the helicopter. “Young Roger can go in the front beside the pilot. I will go in the back with Mr and Mrs Williams.”

  “What about us?” asked a disappointed Graham. He had been hoping for another helicopter ride.

  Sergeant Carmody shook his head. “You kids stay here with Senior Constable Grey. While you wait you might do something to pack up this monstrosity.” He indicated the airship.

  While they waited for Roger to return Sergeant Carmody was given a brief description of the adventure in January (Read ‘Below Bartle Frere’ by Christopher Cummings). He listened and then shook his head. “Stone the crows! You lot must get into more trouble than Flash Gordon.”

  Senior Constable Grey grinned and added: “You don’t know the half of it Sarge.”

  While waiting they discussed earlier adventures, not considering this to be an adventure at all; but rather a horrible misadventure.

  Fifteen minutes later Roger and his parents returned in the ambulance. He was warmly rugged up and looked better after two cups of hot chocolate. Watched by his anxious parents he was placed in the helicopter and strapped in. The helicopter then lifted off and headed across the Tablelands towards the distant mass of the Lamb Range.

  Within minutes the helicopter was over Tinaroo Dam and had begun to climb over the jungle-clad slopes. The crest of the mountains was clear against the sky. Several large trees stood out in silhouette.

  Roger pointed down. “On this side of that road down there,” he indicated. They turned west and flew low over the tree tops to the first large tree. Roger realized he was shivering despite the pullover and blanket and he feared he was going to be sick. For the sake of his pride he told himself it was from worry, not airsickness. Frantically his eyes searched the tree but there was no sign of Willy. Waves of nausea and apprehension gripped him.