IDEA FOR SCENE: See P. G. Taylor. The year is 1935 and Kingsford Smith (Smithy) and P. G. Taylor are flying in the Southern Cross, carrying mail across the Tasman Sea. It is the first flight of the new mail service from Australia to New Zealand (the King George V jubilee airmail flight). They have travelled 500 miles (800km) over the sea (almost half-way to New Zealand). It is before daybreak and they have to shut down their starboard engine because of a severely damaged propeller blade. A wireless (radio) operator at Sydney’s Mascot airfield, John Stannage, helps them.

SAMPLE SCRIPT:

Smithy: WHAT was that?

Taylor: Sounds like something hit the starboard engine.

Smithy: It’s shaking like a leaf! It’s the propeller – it must have broken.

Taylor: We’ll have to manage on the other two engines. Close down the starboard.

Smithy: I have! Full power to centre and port engines. (To Taylor.) Radio to Mascot, We’ll have to turn back.

Taylor: Southern Cross to Mascot, Southern Cross to Mascot, do you read me? Over.

Stannage: Go ahead Southern Cross. Over.

Taylor: Mascot, we’ve lost the starboard engine and are returning to Sydney. Request permission to land. Over.

Stannage: Received Southern Cross. Out.

Smithy: We’ll have to jettison the cargo. (Starts to exit.)

Taylor: Try and save the mail.

Smithy: I’ll try and save the plane, if it’s all right with you. (Exits to throw cargo out of the plane.)

Stannage: Southern Cross this is Mascot, do you read me? Over.

Taylor: I read you Mascot. Over.

Stannage: What is your expected time of arrival, Southern Cross?

Taylor: Standby Mascot. (In his head Taylor works out how long it will take.) It could take us at least seven hours. Over.

Stannage: Received, Southern Cross. We’ll be ready. Out.

Smithy: (Returns to pilot seat.) Good. We’re a lot lighter. (Tapping on the control panel) Hello, what do we have here?

Taylor: What?

Smithy: We’re losing another one. (Looks around at all the meters and out the cockpit window.)

Taylor: What is it?

Smithy: It’s burning oil, fast.

Taylor: Damn! It’ll seize up. We can’t manage on just one motor!

Smithy: Blast!

Taylor: Mayday! Mayday! Mascot, this is Southern Cross. Our port engine is rapidly losing oil pressure. Over.

Stannage: Mascot to Southern Cross. Can you refill the oil in the port engine? Over.

Taylor: Wait on! If I can get enough oil from the sump of the starboard engine, and put it into this one, we might just make it.

Stannage: What have you got to carry the oil in?

Taylor: (Looks around the cockpit.) There’s a thermos flask.

Stannage: Good. Use the casing.

Taylor: Right.

Smithy: Are you mad? You’ll have to climb out on to the wing, drain the oil from the starboard engine, pour it into the port engine, and make it back to the fuselage without plunging into the Tasman!

Stannage: Well, almost. He may have to do it a number of times if the port engine is burning oil that quickly.

Taylor: (drily) Yes, thanks for pointing that out. It’s lucky I’m not scared of heights, isn’t it?

Smithy: But … do you think you can do it?

Taylor: Well, old chap, as I see it, we don’t have much choice, do we? Hold her steady. (Exit Taylor, climbing out of the fuselage.) (Despite the strong slipstream he edged along the engine connecting strut to the starboard engine and collected the oil in the thermos casing. He inched his way back and poured the oil into the port engine. He had to do this six times before they reached Mascot, nine hours later.)