For the second ferry, Chuck Dent’s special HF aerial was erected at New Sarum to provide communications for Wing Commander Keith Corrans and Squadron Leader Mike Gedye.
This is Keith’s account of the second ferry:
The second ferry comprised 10 aircraft (2 sections of 5 aircraft led by Mike Gedye and me, the only Rhodesian pilots on this route). To minimise the risk of compromise Mike and I had been “kept back” as even the most simple en-route immigration official might have wondered, from our passports (false as they were) why we had been in West Africa, heading south, only 10 days or so before we were in their area heading the same way. The second, but shorter, route down through central Africa was, as a result, largely rejected to ensure additional distance between East and West Coast ‘tom toms’. In retrospect the ploy worked and we routed across North Africa and down the East coast departing Europe on 27 January 1976. The first leg to Las Palmas (3 hrs 40) was a ‘swan’ although we left departure point a little hurriedly ahead of an oncoming snowstorm. Leg 2 (6 hrs 30) was east across the Med and the foot of Italy (intercepted by a section of Italian Air Force F104s) and on to Ikaklion in Crete after an unplanned 1-hour dogleg to avoid a weapons range on the west coast of the island.
The next legs were to be the longest and potentially most dodgy. We departed Ikaklion before dawn on leg 3, penetrated Egyptian airspace west of Alexandria, routed up the Nile to Aswan and were provisionally flight planned to land at Port Sudan, assessed to be potentially the highest-risk location. Fortuitously, by cruise climbing to Flight Levels around 120 we were able to pick up a favourable tail-wind and, by “rationing” 6 1/2 hrs oxygen to cover an extended flight time, managed to stretch the leg for eventual landing at Djibouti in Afas Isas (formerly Somalia in the late 1950s). It would seem that the in-flight destination change (plus perhaps the number of aircraft in the 2 section ‘gaggle) generated “agitated” RT. transmissions from Ethiopian Military ATC (all totally and studiously ignored) who seemed to be attempting to drum up aircraft to intercept us. As the leg had been intentionally planned for Saturday, and it was late afternoon, they did not really have time to get their act together and we departed the area hastily, descending to low level on the Red Sea Coast somewhere near Massawa Island. After a 10 hrs leg we eventually arrived at Djibouti after dark in the “Mother” of all thunderstorms, and had a most magnificent meal at a local Shebeen in the town square (probably camel steaks) with copious quantities of Stella Artois and French wine, before kipping in primitive conditions—on bare mattresses—in a local downtown Djibouti/Somali “hotel”.
Leg 4 was to Mombassa, the next high-risk point. After a flight of 6 hrs 30 east and across the Somali Desert to the coast (Indian Ocean) and then south, at a comfortable altitude down that attractive coastline, we landed (in old stomping grounds) and were surprised by most efficient and courteous arrival procedures. Overnight accommodation was at a superb coastal/tourist hotel; we did however have to wait until almost midnight for the resident German/Scandinavian tourists to vacate the rooms and catch their flights north before we could take occupation! And then we found that the water supplies to the hotel had been on the blink for about 2 weeks and there was no hot or cold running water and the toilet had to be flushed by bucket using water stored in the bath! The breakfast next morning on the verandah did however partially offset the hassle and the lack of sleep.
The next leg started in superb weather; the scenery down the coast was fantastic. The colour of the water on the coral at Pemba and Zanzibar Islands has to be seen to be believed; shades of Bazaruto and Paradise Island, Mozambique. And then one of the French crews, who had consistently failed to maintain any semblance of formation discipline—dropping out of formation to low-fly down the “mile-long” beaches, declared an emergency/instrument panel fire and made a precautionary landing at a disused airfield a little north of Mtwara on the south-eastern border of Tanzania. Sods Law! The ant bears had got there before them and the landing path was pitted with holes! Exit one Cessna prop, nose wheel and wingtip! After 2 or 3 circuits of the scene it was obvious that there was little or nothing “we” could do to assist and the 2 French crew had to be left to their own devices (with ferry tanks there was no room in any aircraft to rescue them).
Although the Frenchmen were stranded they were unhurt, so Keith wished them well and promised to send help as soon as possible. The welcoming party in Salisbury was somewhat dampened. Even with seventeen Cessnas safely home and tucked away out of sight, there was deep concern for the one lying damaged in hostile territory. Fortunately, Keith Corrans knew its precise location and had the necessary details of the damage sustained.
Local tribesmen took the two Frenchmen into their care until FRELIMO officials arrived from northern Mozambique and, fortunately, no Tanzanian officials showed up. The Frenchmen did a first-class con job using language difficulties to maximum effect. This was matched by the senior French pilot in Salisbury who telephoned Maputo direct from Salisbury to ask for FRELIMO’s permission to mount a recovery operation for the ‘French-owned’ aircraft. He explained that the downed aircraft had been flying to Malagasy when it suffered engine problems. This had forced the crew to land on an airstrip on Tanzanian soil very close to Mozambique rather than risk the long over-water leg to Malagasy. FRELIMO’s authorities were assured that this was a purely civil aviation matter in which Rhodesian civil aviation authorities had agreed to give full technical assistance to the French.
FRELIMO, still new in government, took the Frenchman at his word and made no attempt to contact the Governments of Tanzania or Malagasy to verify a request emanating from ‘hostile Rhodesia’. Approval was given for the use of a Rhodesian-registered aircraft to fly Rhodesian personnel in to effect necessary repairs for a one-time flight. They agreed also that the Cessna 337 would need to be flown to Beira for fuel and then on to Salisbury for final repair work before undertaking the long flight to Malagasy.
Group Captain Charles Paxton had been earmarked to become the Commander of the Rhodesian Air Force but he opted for early retirement instead and was then flying for a civilian charter firm. His current employment and Air Force background made Charles the ideal person to conduct the recovery operation. This had to be done rapidly for fear that FRELIMO might establish the true ownership of the damaged aircraft. It meant getting to site immediately, performing the barest minimum of repair work and departing with minimum delay. In the meanwhile the French crew and FRELIMO had arranged for the holes in the runway to be filled in by the locals. The plan worked well. The rear engine was replaced, the nose wheel was jacked up and bolted into place, the front propeller was replaced and engine checks were conducted. A large box of goodies for FRELIMO and the locals ensured full co-operation without interference. Both aircraft then departed for Beira.
Since the Cessna had to fly with undercarriage down, the flight to Salisbury via Beira was a long one. Charles Paxton escorted the Frenchmen all the way for a night arrival at Salisbury. The Cessna was wheeled off to the security hangar and a third celebration marked the conclusion of the second ferry with all eighteen aircraft safe on Rhodesian soil.
With one aircraft requiring major repairs and five others awaiting camouflage paint, the Air Force defiantly rolled out twelve camouflaged Cessna 337s into the open for the whole world to see. It felt and looked great, and the new war-machine became known as the LYNX!