All language subtitles for Mayday.S03E13.Ocean.Landing.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD+2.0.H.264-playWEB_track3_[eng]

A crippled
airliner falls toward
the Indian Ocean.

It has no fuel.

No engine power at all.

Both engines are out.
That's it.

The captain
struggles to do what no one
has ever done before...

...safely land a passenger jet
on the open ocean.

3000.

We're not getting any oxygen!
We have the terrain alarm.

- Aero Peru 603.
- We are in an emergency.

The Comoros islands.

A remote holiday playground
in the Indian Ocean.

Days here are spent
playing in the sand

and splashing
in the gentle waves.

But in late 1996,

the peace of the Comoros
islands is shattered.

A plane is speeding
toward the beach.

It's a passenger jet
hundreds of miles off course.

There has been no explosion,
no mechanical failure,

yet the jet is falling out of
the sky towards the ocean.

Ethiopian Airlines
flight 961

is on a routine trip
from Addis Ababa
to the Ivory Coast.

The Captain is Leul Abate.

At 42 he's an extremely
experienced pilot.

7300 kilograms.

Centre tank... zero...

He has more
than 11 000 hours
of flying time to his credit.

Total fuel is 14,500 kg.

Check.

Ethiopian flight 961
will stop briefly in Nairobi,
Brazzaville and Lagos

before it reaches its final
destination of Abidjan.

The plane has just enough fuel
for the first leg of the trip.

It will get more in Nairobi.

Less fuel on board makes
the plane lighter,
increasing efficiency.

Captain Abate and his co-pilot
Yonas Mekuria

expect their day's work will
be over in about 12 hours,

when they land
in the Ivory Coast.
- All clear.

That day was a bright day,
clear skies,
everything was fine.

The passengers
on board 961 are a mix of
Ethiopians and travelers

from other countries
flying for business
and pleasure.

Michael Adenyo,
seated in economy class,

is a Kenyan businessman
on his way home to Nairobi.

I spent the whole of Friday
trying to get on that flight,

calling the airline
every hour or so.

I remember Friday night,
about 11 o'clock

I called them again
and they said,

'Look, just come to the airport.

We'll see if we can find
a seat for you.'

So, I sometimes feel I put
myself on that aircraft.

Near the front of
the plane,

American Frank Pancho Huddle
is also getting settled in.

He's the United States
consul general in Bombay.

My wife Pom and myself,
decided to take a trip
to Africa,

and go on safari.

And I wanted a daytime flight,
because it was safer.

So I picked Ethiopian Airlines,

which had a good reputation.

It was one of the two carriers
in all of Africa
that was FAA certified.

A few rows ahead
of them is Mo Amin,

a legendary news cameraman
and journalist.

He's a well-known personality,
especially in Ethiopia.

In 1984, Amin captured images
which shocked the world.

His pictures of the Ethiopian
famine

prompted an outpouring of aid

which helped pull Ethiopia back
from the brink of starvation.

Mo Amin was, I think,

the most famous news cameraman
of his time

and also one of the strangest
of characters...

Amin is known for
never backing down in a fight.

He had stuck his nose
and his camera,

into conflicts across Africa.

While filming in Ethiopia,

he had even lost an arm
in a bomb blast.

Today, he's returning home
to Nairobi
after a brief business trip.

By the time all the passengers
are on board,

flight 961 is carrying
175 people.

Not only is Captain Abate
used to this route,

but he's also very comfortable
with this aircraft.

Vee-one.

He and other
members of Ethiopian Airlines
call it "Zulu".

As the plane climbs
into the sky,

three Ethiopian men
have settled into their seats.

All are in their mid-twenties.

The plane is bound for Nairobi,

but it's not where these
passengers are planning to go.

When we took off,
everything was fine...

The cabin crew called us,

she asked if we wanted to have
coffee or tea or whatever...

Yeah, thank you.
Coffee?

Make it two.

The plane
is flying at 12,000 meters

when the three young Ethiopians
make their move.

I heard a noise at the back...

there was somebody shouting and,
when I looked back,

he was running up towards
the front,

pushing
the air hostesses away.

There were two guys zipping
down the plane,

yelling something
incomprehensible ...

And then a guy sort of gliding
down silently

came right after him,
and I said,

"Uh-oh,
it's a hijacking because
they are coordinated."

Initially, we, we sort of just
looked at each other

and wondered what was going on.

People didn't say much
immediately.

There was some kind of noise
in the cabin

and I heard the cockpit door
slamming open, just bang.

Three men barge
through the door

and arm themselves
with the cockpit's fire axe
and fire extinguisher.

Get out.

Get out!

There was, you know, ...

a little confusion
up in the front as if they were,

you know, attacking
the pilots...

There were three guys,
they were shouting.

They just came straight
to the co-pilot and they started
hitting him, get up...

There's eleven of us.

If you don't do what we say,

we'll blow this plane
out of the sky.

I told them,
"Okay, don't hurt him.

I'll do whatever you want."

Passengers near the front of the plane
are concerned...

but have no idea
what's going on.

Captain Leul Abate is facing
the hijackers alone.

Unlike most pilots though,

Abate has some experience
in a situation like this.

He has been hijacked
twice before.

The first hijack was
a local flight.

And then two hijackers
who had a hand grenade

came into the cockpit
and forced us to fly to Nairobi.

Abate's second
hijacking was just a few years
later

when he was piloting a 737.

The hijackers again held
the hostess hostage

and they came into the cockpit;
they told me it was a hijack

and they wanted to fly
to Sweden.

No one had been
hurt or killed in either
of those incidents.

In both cases, Captain Abate
had landed safely.

But the turbulent political
situation in the region

means hijacking is
an unpleasant reality.

From 1990 to 1996,
10 Ethiopian airlines' planes
had been hijacked.

This time though, the hijackers
make a very unusual request.

- Fly to Australia.
- What?

Fly us to Australia!

We don't have enough fuel
to get to Australia.

It's too far.

We can go to Nairobi,
or Zanzibar,

or Dar es Salaam
then refuel.

And then go to Australia.

In fact, the jet
took off with just 3.5 hours
worth of fuel.

But the hijackers
don't know that.

They've been reading the
in-flight magazine

which tells them the maximum
flying time of a 767.

Eleven hours.

It won't take more than
10 hours to get to Australia.

But we don't have
10 hours of fuel.

- It says 11 hours!
- We don't carry that much fuel.

We only carry what we need.

They thought I was bluffing...

They were convinced
that the airplane was able
to fly to Australia ...

Abate is shocked.

No one else on the plane
knows what the hijackers
are demanding.

If he does what they say...

his plane will crash
in the ocean.

If he doesn't...

they say they'll blow it out
of the sky.

An Ethiopian Airlines jet
has been hijacked in the skies
above Africa.

The hijackers want
to be flown to Australia.

It's a 10-hour flight,

but the plane took off with just
three and a half hours of fuel.

The passengers have no idea what
the hijackers are demanding.

Word spreads of the hijacking,
but not of their destination.

Flight attendants feed
some of the children on board

and keep working
as best they can.

We started to ask the stewards
what was going on

and they indicated
that it was a hijacking.

Nervous and uncertain,

passengers wait
to see what happens next.

It was as if nobody wanted
to sort of rile the hijackers.

Because they hadn't slapped
people around,

it wasn't a sort of
a Middle Eastern style

where they shoot somebody in
the head to make a point or...

They were basically leaving
the passengers alone

provided
that we didn't do anything.

And that was enough for us.

This is how much fuel
we have...

If we had fuel for 11 hours,
it would say 60,000 kilograms.

But we don't carry
that much fuel.

We only carry what we need.

The hijackers seem
to think that Abate is bluffing.

We have a bomb.

Yes...

and if you don't do
what we tell you to...

we'll blow this plane
out of the sky.

Abate knows
he's trapped.

If he fights the hijackers,
they may blow up his plane.

If he does what they want,
he'll run out of fuel.

My feeling tells me that
it's not a real bomb

but there's no way
that I can challenge that.

One of them has a fire axe...

That was good enough
to do serious damage.

If I'm not alive,
everybody's not alive,
that's it.

I want to talk
to the passengers.

After about half an hour,
the hijackers came on
the public address system,

and they made an announcement

that they have taken
over the plane...

...and if anybody
tried anything,

they had one bomb and
they were going to blow it up.

The announcement
is made in Anharek,
French, and English.

The policy at that time
was we should follow
the hijackers' instruction.

That was before 9/11,

and every action taken is
to be taken on ground,
not in flight.

Pilots are trained
to fly not to fight.

We were following sort of
the standard script, as it were,
for passengers,

which was to stay out of it,
keep quiet, keep cool,

let them sort it out,
get the plane on the ground.

Some people said,
"Oh, maybe we'll go to Sudan,

land there, negotiate.

And maybe they'll release us
after that.

Or, if not, move on to some...
some other place."

But it was all speculation.

For years,
Clint Van Zandt was the FBI's
Chief hostage negotiator.

What made this hijacking
so unique

is that the pilot in command

had been the victim
of two previous hijackings.

His success rate
was 100 per cent.

He probably had
a predisposition to:

this will end like
the other two did,

I'll be able to get it
on the ground,

the authorities will deal
with it.

But Captain Abate
knows this situation
is different.

Instead of another destination
in Africa,

the hijackers want
to go to Australia.

Abate knows that heading out
into the open ocean

could be
a death sentence.

Captain Abate decides
to get help.

I have to call
air traffic control.

Why?

Because they will be asking
why we are changing direction.

Tell them you've been hijacked

and tell them
where we are going.

Addis area Control,
this Ethiopian 961...

Since the plane
is still over Ethiopia,

Abate contacts
Addis Ababa area control.

Addis Ethiopian 961,

there are passengers
in the cockpit.

Say it again, 961.

Addis 961,
we have been hijacked.

We have orders
to divert to Australia.

961, Australia, understood.

Confirm your souls on board.

Souls on board: 175.

961, 175 souls on board.

As the aircraft
flies south,

Addis Ababa passes the captain
over to Nairobi
air traffic control.

ETH Nairobi Centre,

confirm you are going to land
Australia.

Gentlemen.
We can't make Australia.

We have only two hours of fuel.

We can't make it
Australia...

We will make a water landing.

ETH 961.

Confirm you can't divert
to Mombasa?

They refused to land anywhere
other than Australia

so we have no choice,

except when we finish our fuel,
we will land on water.

But with two hours of fuel
you can't make Australia,

why don't you land Mombasa?

Okay.
Just a minute.

Abate connects
the Air Traffic Control
to the cockpit's speakers.

Okay, I just wanted
our hijackers to hear
what you are communicating,

and if you have anything to say,
go ahead and tell them.

Okay, I am advising you

that with two hours fuel,

you will be unable
to reach your destination.

And probably you will have
to land on the water.

The solution is for you
to land in Mombasa.

Go ahead.

The hijackers of ETH 961,
if you have copied, go ahead...

Waiting to talk.
Standby.

Do you want to talk to them?

Okay, they say
they don't want to talk.

They are not willing
to negotiate on any terms.

Confirm they are ready to land
in the ocean and drown?

Do you have another
alternate aerodrome?

Please advise.

I have no alternate aerodrome.

Sir, I am in a very
tight corner.
- Enough talk!

We will not negotiate.

That's bullshit,
it's bullshit!!

They said follow
our instructions.

If you don't,
we'll blow the airplane up.

That's it.

Ethiopian 961,
Nairobi Control, do you read?

There would be
no further communications

between the aircraft
and air traffic control.

An hour has passed since the
beginning of the hijacking.

No one knows exactly what's
going on in the cockpit.

For the rest of the passengers
and crew, the flight has settled
into an uneasy routine.

There was a lot of time,
people were just whispering

and we were trying to figure out
where we were going,

where they were taking us,
what's going to happen.

And at least the people
I was sitting next to,

we thought that we would go
from airport to airport

and there would be negotiations
and finally,
we would be released.

We went generally south.

And there was an eerie,
edgy, nervous calm.

Nobody's talking much,

people are in their own little
individual worlds.

With only a
fraction of the fuel needed
to get to Australia,

Abate decides to defy
the hijackers.

Without their knowledge
he continues south,

instead of east
towards Australia.

I started following
the African coastline

because in case
anything happens

we'll have a place to...

ditch or land safely

because most of the cities
are by the coastline.

But with a glance
out the window,

the hijackers suddenly
realize they've been tricked.

I still see land!
Turn the plane!

Now, Captain Abate
has no choice.

He turns his plane east,
over the open ocean.

As the ocean unfolds below him,

the Captain begins
forming another plan.

I had no charts nearby

because
it was on the co-pilot's side

so I had a small atlas...

so I took that atlas
and I saw the Comoros islands.

Nestled between
the African continent and
the island of Madagascar

is their only hope:
the Comoros Islands.

A remote holiday playground
in the Indian Ocean.

I had no idea
what that place was.

I never heard of the word
Comoros before...

I just headed towards it ...

it was a guess.

The Comoros
Islands are his last chance
to land safely.

We sat... we just sat
and sat for hours.

I tried to read the newspaper
but couldn't concentrate on it
because I was nervous.

I wondered how much
extra fuel we had.

Because the rule of thumb is
you have enough for the
alternative airport

and then you're supposed
to have an extra 45 minutes
of fuel beyond that.

So roughly three hours or so
of fuel they had to have.

So after we'd flown three hours,
I began to get nervous.

Suddenly an alarm
breaks the tense silence
in the cockpit.

It's a warning that the plane
has less than 30 minutes of fuel
left.

I need to tell the passengers.

There's no need.

You know what I'm going to
tell them?

It's out of my control:
the aircraft is going to crash.

- Do you want to die?
- We're going to die anyway!

So... shall we kill you?
No more talking.

Don't worry, I have the axe.

Please,

at least let us attempt
a controlled landing.

I will die along with him.

I will show him
that I have guts.

It's finished.

We will die together.

With almost
no fuel,

Abate decides
to make his stand.

We came over the island.

By then fuel was running out

and I decided, "No,
we should not go any
further than this one"

and I started circling
that area.

But how
can he convince the hijackers
to let him land?

He'll have to find
an answer soon,

or flight 961
will crash into the sea.

For three hours,
Captain Leul Abate has been
fighting a lonely battle.

Hijackers have taken over
his passenger jet.

They want to be flown
to Australia

but Abate doesn't have
enough fuel.

Warning alarms are already
beginning to sound.

An airport on the Comoros
Islands is within reach

but the hijackers refuse
to negotiate
and won't let him land.

At stake: the lives of
all 175 people on board.

They took whiskey
from the duty-free.

They wanted me to drink
actually but I refused.

Once again
alarms sound.

One engine is now completely
out of fuel.

It's shutting down.

Captain Abate is quickly
running out of time.

With the airplane being at
39,000 feet in cruise flight,

the airplane is not going
to run out of gas

with each engine simultaneously.

There'll probably be
a bit of a lag,

which in this case
there was.

The right engine stopped
functioning first.

First thing I noticed,
the engines sound different...

'cause there's only one engine
running.

It had a much deeper sound.

Abate follows
standard emergency procedures.

He starts the APU,
or auxiliary power unit.

It's a generator that can
supply extra electrical power
when one engine is lost.

Most of the passengers
don't know how serious
the situation is.

But Captain Abate knows
the plane is in grave danger.

I lost the engine
at 39,000 feet.

I cannot keep flying
at 39,000 feet
with engine failure.

With thrust
from only one engine,

the aircraft
immediately slows down.

At a lower speed, the wings
don't provide as much lift.

Abate must descend
to an altitude
where the air is thicker.

Denser air means the wings
can provide enough lift

to keep
the aircraft flying level.

The plane continues to descend.

Even with only one engine,
and despite the drop
in altitude,

the tiny Comoros Islands
are still within reach

of the crippled airliner.

There is an airport
at the capital, Moroni.

If he can convince
the hijackers,
Abate could land there.

It's gone down a thousand.

When the engine stops,
it descends.

It will descend
whether you like it or not.

Alone in the cockpit, Captain
Abate takes a dangerous chance.

He explains the situation
to everyone on board.

Ladies and gentlemen,
this is your pilot...

We have run out of fuel

and we are losing an engine
at this time;

we are going to make
a crash landing...

When the pilot came
onto the public address system,

and said that he had
no alternative
but to crash land,

that is when we, it actually
dawned on us and we realized

that this was a life and death
situation.

Captain Abate also
makes a desperate call for help.

We have already lost
one of the engines.

He wants
the passengers
to overpower the hijackers,

so he can land the plane.

I ask all passengers
to react to the hijackers.
Thank you.

Captain Abate
knows the call for help is
a huge risk.

Even though I was
expecting some kind of movement
in the cabin

but... I had to do my job.

I was doing what I had to do,
you know,

keep the airplane in control,
fly it.

While Captain Abate waits for action,

the passengers are
more confused than ever.

He said,
"React against the hijackers."

Which is an odd phraseology.

But nobody reacted.

I think part of it
was the way he said it.

It was not sort of a normal way
in English

that you would ask someone
to take on the hijackers.

But he also was trying to do it
so they wouldn't notice
what he was saying.

At least one of
the passengers does understand.

As a news cameraman,

Mo Amin has never shied away
from a challenge.

Amin makes his way
to the economy section
in the rear of the plane.

Here is a man who had spent
20 or 30 years

in some of the most difficult
and dangerous war zones
of the world,

who'd been beaten up,
who'd been shot at,

who'd been jailed.

He was a kind of alpha male,
if you know what I mean.

He could talk anybody
into anything.

He made like he was going
to the bathroom,

then he came back and he started
talking to people

who were three or four seats
ahead of me.

And, from his gestures and
actions,

he was trying to get us
to stand up
against the hijackers...

With your help,
we can take them!

There's only three of them.
Come on!

Come on!

Not knowing what would happen,
not knowing what these people
were capable of doing...

and of course, the fact that
they had indicated

that they would blow up the
plane if anybody tried anything.

You always, always have
to measure,

"Am I going to make
the situation better

or am I going
to make it worse?"

Who's ready to take the chance
that your precipitous action

against the hijacker

might not cause him to set
that explosive device off

and take the life of everybody
on board the plane?

In the end,
the passengers choose
not to act.

Captain Abate is still alone
against the hijackers.

In the cockpit, the hijackers
try to take control,

in a vain attempt to keep
the plane in the air.

It's descending.

Don't worry, I am not
the one who is doing that.

Inadvertently one of the hijackers
disconnects the autopilot.

The plane swerves wildly.

Don't move! Listen.

I'm not applying any motion.

The aircraft is doing it
by itself.

He was trying to fly
the airplane, he was trying
to disconnect the autopilot,

all sorts of things.

It's all over,
we will drop in the ocean.

31!

Abate makes
another attempt to explain

the desperate situation
to the hijackers;

perhaps they will finally
allow him to land
at the nearby airport.

This is zero.

And this is coming to zero.

I prayed to God,
I wish I wasn't in
this situation.

Now I am in it

but help me
to save these people.

Ladies and Gentlemen,

please sit down
and fasten your seat belts.

Don't panic.
Please fasten...

I was starting to say,
"Oh, I love you, dear,
it's been a good ride."

And my wife is sort
of unsentimental,
psychiatric nurse.

And she tells me,
"Get up, stand up,

get our bag down
from the overhead,

pull out your extra glasses,
put them in your pocket,

and get some food for me

and I want this,
this and this, and food.

She carefully picked things
that wouldn't make her thirsty.

She said there's not going
to be any meal service
once we hit the water.

Finally the plane
runs out of fuel.

- So you're killing everyone.
- That is all. Sit down!

From now on you can't do
anything to me.

What?

From now on, you can do
nothing to me.

The other engine stopped

and it sort of went quiet.

Then, it started to get hot
within the cabin,

the lights started to flicker...

and, gradually,

it went out.

That's it.
Both engines are out.

That's it.
Is this what you wanted?

This 40-million-dollar aircraft

has become
a 100-tonne glider.

The plane is out of fuel,
and Abate is out of options.

A crash landing in the sea
is all but inevitable.

Both engines are out.
That's it.

Is this what you wanted?

Almost four hours
after take-off

Ethiopian Airlines Flight 961
has finally run out of fuel.

Hijackers have taken over
the plane

and have forced the captain
to fly over the ocean.

The loss of engine power starts
rippling through the plane.

As well as driving the jet
through the skies,

the engines supply power
to most of the electrical
and hydraulic systems.

Without the engines
the computer screens,
automatic pilot

and many other functions
of the plane stop working.

Although the engines are now
useless,

a low-tech backup system
allows the pilot
to retain some control.

The Ram Air Turbine, or RAT,

is the last line of defense
when all the engines fail.

A small trap door
automatically opens,

and the turbine,
a small propeller, pops out.

The rushing air turns
the propeller like a windmill,

generating just enough
electrical power

for basic flight instruments
and controls,
including airspeed.

Since it was power off,

that means there was no
electrical or hydraulic power,

the controls were heavy.

The turbine does
not provide enough power
for Abate to operate the flaps,

which would help slow
the plane down for landing.

Wherever he lands,

Captain Abate will have to do
so at a dangerously high speed.

Power off landing,
power off ditching.

Nobody's trained in the world.

Flying over the water,
you need accurate instruments.

I didn't have any
of the instruments.

Without engines,

a large passenger jet can glide
18 and a half kilometers

for every 1000 meters
of altitude it loses.

At 6,400 meters,

the Ethiopian Airlines plane
can glide
for nearly 120 kilometers

before it hits the ground.

One of the things that the
captain's got to worry about now

is with both engines shut down,
the airplane's going to go down.

It's just a matter of where,
and that's going to be
controlled by the pilot flying.

It's an extremely
dangerous situation

few pilots in the world
have ever faced.

In 1983, another 767 pilot
found himself
in a similar predicament.

Air Canada flight 143
ran out of fuel

and landed on an abandoned
Air Force base,

sustaining only minor damage.

In the right circumstances,

a safe landing without power
is possible.

Captain Abate hopes to land
at the airport
in the Comoros Islands.

But struggling against
the hijackers on the final turn

he loses his bearings and cannot
visually locate the runway.

I was within the vicinity
of the airport

so I was keeping the airport
in my sight all the time.

Then through the struggle,
I lost my position.

I lost where I was.

In the critical
seconds it takes
to find the airport again,

he loses too much altitude

and doesn't know
if he can make it to a runway.

A water landing is
now his only option.

He knew that he was going
to have to ditch the airplane.

He was going to have to put
the airplane down in the water.

How he was going to do that
was now a different plan

because he'd never been
trained to do that,
not with two engines out.

Landing on the ocean

is even more dangerous
than bringing a plane down
on the ground.

If you were trying to crash
land on the ground,

the airplane would have
a surface to slide across.

That surface does not exist

when you're ditching
the airplane in water.

The airplane is going
to touch down on the water

and then at some point, it's
going to dig into that water.

When that happens,
the airplane's going
to try to stop instantly.

In trying to bring
his plane down safely,

Abate faces
unique challenges.

Planes such as the DC-9
have flat bottoms,

which would skim the surface
of the ocean on landing,

slowing down more gently.

But the engines on Abate's 767
hang below the body.

They could act
as enormous scoops,

grabbing hold of the water

as the rest of the plane
plows ahead.

The force will tear
the jet apart.

It was getting hotter and
hotter, so we started to sweat.

Because I guess
the air conditioning system
was not working

since there was no power.

And that's when
the people started to scream,

started to panic...

looking for life jackets.

Praying to Jesus,
praying to Allah...

Some ladies were asking people
to go and plead with the
hijackers,

not realizing that it wouldn't
make any difference
at this particular time.

We didn't have any fuel and
that was it, we're going down.

But I guess at that time,
your hope is all you have.

We're descending
fairly rapidly,
the plane is lurching wildly.

A couple of times
they're fighting up
in the cockpit for the controls.

It's my responsibility,

the passengers must know
what's going on.

Descend
and increase the speed.

It doesn't make
any difference.

Please.

All the same,
we are going to die.

Please maintain calm.

Prepare for an emergency
landing.

Put on your life jackets
but do not inflate them.

Some passengers
either don't hear the Captain's
instructions

or decide
to ignore them.

They inflate their life jackets.

I heard a pop, pop, pop, pop
back in the tourist class.

And everybody panicked and
inflated their life jackets.

I actually got up on my seat

and told people,

"Don't inflate your life jackets
inside the plane."

At the front
of the plane, Mo Amin tries
a last ditch attempt

to negotiate with the hijackers.

No, sit down.

Mo had a desire to dominate
every situation he was in.

In a situation like that,
it would be Mo
talking to the hijackers,

he would be negotiating
with the hijackers, he would be,
I'm sure,

trying to get
the other passengers
to face these guys down.

But Amin's efforts
have no effect.

The hijackers are determined
to let the aircraft crash.

Then, for the first time
since the hijacking began,

Captain Abate gets some help.

The controls... I need help...

They're too heavy.

We told them, "Guys,
now we are in the last point,

you should sit down and fasten
your seat belts." They refused.

I never thought I would ditch
in my lifetime.

I never thought I would lose
two engines

and ditch in the middle
of the ocean.

I never thought anything like
that would happen in my life.

The last few seconds,
I remember looking out
both sides of the window.

I could see water.

And, then, I took
the crash landing position.

All these things
go through your mind.

I guess, having been brought up
in a Christian family,

I said my last prayers.

And said, um, "Well,

if there is Heaven,

I hope I get out
on the right side of things."

Outside in the window,
you could see land
at the last minute,

and we realized that we were...

for the first time that we were
near land but over water.

I used to love that airplane;
we used to call it Zulu.

In my heart I was talking to it.

So I said, "Zulu, you can make
it now,

you should be able to make it,
I know you can make it."

You know, I was talking to it.

On the beach,
tourists are stunned.

The horror of the crash
is captured on
one of their video cameras.

The plane is flying at more than
370 km per hour
when it hits the water.

The first bump was
fairly gentle.

And I sort of breathed
a sigh of relief. Wow!

As soon as we touched
the water, it was quite violent.

Then the second bump, like a
30-mile-an-hour auto accident.

I had a feeling the plane
was not going to hold.

The third bump, I said,
"Uh-oh, I'm dead."

I blacked out.

Oh my God! Oh no!

The ditching was
very rough.

The aircraft broke apart
into three pieces.

The cockpit broke off
and the tail end broke off,

so we went, started to go down.

There was water
gushing in on both sides.

Passengers who survive the initial impact

struggle to escape
from the shattered wreckage.

As water pours in,

people who have already inflated
their life jackets
become trapped.

The water pushes them towards
the ceiling of the plane.

In that kind of panic, uh,
people, um, do all sorts of
things

that, maybe, are not rational.

The life jackets
make it very difficult
to swim under water.

Many passengers can't escape
the sinking cabin.

The aircraft was
full of water...

I have no fear of water,
having done competitive swimming
in school.

And then I went
for my seat belt.

And I couldn't find the buckle.

So, I moved my hand
down to my knee and found it.

I pulled it open
and I pushed out.

And I looked at the back
of the aircraft.

I could see some light
at the end

and I decided to swim out
in that direction.

As I swam out, one of the
passengers trying to get out of
the seat grabbed my leg...

I said to myself, "Oh, my God,
this can cause me to drown."

But I decided not to fight back

and they pulled themselves out
and they let go of my leg.

And, then I continued to swim
out to the back of the aircraft,

and swam to the surface.

I was really exhausted,
I felt very tired.

And I looked up and said,
"Okay, could this be heaven?"

'Cause I wasn't really sure
whether I was alive or...

or... or dead.

I was trying to tell
the co-pilot to get out,

then he was not there.

Then I said, "Okay, then, it's
about time for me to go out."

I woke up, I was floating
in the water,

and I went,
"Hey, I'm alive."

I looked for my wife who'd been
sitting on my right
and she was gone...

and my heart sank.

Then I looked to my left
and she was now on my left.

She had swirled around
and swapped...

We were out
floating in the ocean.

You can see just what looks
like an uninhabited cliff,

what might be a tropical island.

It's like a movie, you know.

When I leveled out
and looked at sea level,

I saw all these boats,
these tourist boats,

beautiful sails and all that
and I said,

"I must still be on earth."

And I looked around me,
I could see all these people,
life jackets and,

bits and pieces of debris,
broken seats,

floating bodies.

As I swam towards the beach,
I saw this passport,

which was a Kenyan passport,

and I stopped and
opened the passport

and believe it or not
it was mine.

So I took the passport
and folded it and put it in my
pocket and continued to swim.

Oddenyu makes
his way to a floating
pallet of cargo

that's burst loose
from the plane.

He pulls himself on top
and waits for rescue.

The plane was destroyed,
ripped into several pieces.

I saw things
scattered around me,

the tail of the airplane
far away from me...

I never expected
something like could happen.

All I was expecting was
to evacuate the passengers
safely, and myself.

Abate swims
to safety,

but he has no idea
how successful he's been.

He doesn't know whether any
of his passengers have survived,

or what's happened
to the hijackers.

After a four-hour struggle
with hijackers,

Captain Leul Abate crash lands
his passenger jet
in the Indian Ocean

near the Comoros Islands.

Oh, my God!

His plane is shattered.

But his skill may have saved
the lives of many on board.

For those who survive
the crash,

Abate's decision to ditch
the plane near the shore

means that although
the airliner breaks into pieces

it doesn't sink very far.

Fortunately the water
was very shallow.

In some cases
people were able to get out.

Locals and tourists swarm out
to the downed aircraft.

A group of scuba divers,
who narrowly missed being hit
by the aircraft,

help with the rescue effort.

In an amazing stroke
of good luck,

some French doctors are
staying at the resort.

They offer
immediate medical assistance.

In the end, of the 175 people
on board the plane, 50 survive.

Without the actions of Abate,
many more could have died.

Without power and unable
to use his flaps

Captain Abate lands
at 370 kilometers per hour,

over 100 kilometers per hour
above the normal
landing speed of a 767.

Once the captain made the
decision that he had to ditch,

the best thing that he could do

was keep the airplane
as close to land as possible.

Abate also tried
to make the landing
as smooth as possible.

At the last moment
he turned the jet,

hoping to land parallel
to the waves instead
of crashing into them.

As soon as the plane hit
the water, it was ripped out of
Abate's control.

The airplane touched down
left wing low,

so the left wing
actually grabbed the water.

The 767's
massive low-slung engine

dug into the water,
spinning the plane around.

The airplane would have wanted
to turn around that left wing
or cartwheel.

That's a lot of energy
to dissipate very quickly.

That's what caused
the break-up sequence.

The airplane broke up
into four or five pieces,

that's what caused
a lot of the fatalities.

Panic may also
have contributed
to the number of deaths.

Disregarding Abate's
instructions,

many passengers inflated
their life jackets.

The life vest wants to keep
you buoyant or try to drive you
straight up,

and that could hamper
and restrict

your ability
to get out of your seat.

In some cases people were
still strapped in their seat

when the airplane sank and
they unfortunately drowned.

Mo Amin, who had
tried to rally the passengers
against the hijackers,

was standing up
when the plane crashed.

He was probably thrown against
a bulkhead when the plane
crashed, dying instantly.

Mo had survived everything,
he had more than nine lives

and the idea that he should
just be on an ordinary,
standard flight

when the kind of news story
that he wasn't aware of,
hadn't been assigned to,

caught up with him
and to be killed in this way

has a kind of horrid irony
about it.

The hijackers,
who refused to sit
for the landing,

also died in the crash.

In the days
after the disaster,

other pieces of the puzzle
became clearer.

Despite claims by the hijackers
that there were eleven of them,

in fact, there were only three.

But who were these desperate
men and what were their motives?

They were imprisoned, uh,
thrown in jail,

persecuted and tortured
by the government.

They didn't specify
which government,

at least to the best
of my understanding.

And that they had escaped
from jail

and that they were going
to make history.

They said they had friends
in Australia

and they want to get united
with them.

They wanted to go into a second
country

where they gain refugee status
and have a better living.

Before 9/11,

it was remarkably easy
for hijackers to gain access
to pilots...

If you don't do what we say,

we'll blow this plane
out of the sky.

Despite numerous
hijackings

over the previous two decades,

most airlines made no attempt
to secure the cockpit.

- Do you want to die?
- We're going to die anyway!

So... shall we kill you?

The hijackers
of flight 961

were never linked

to any terrorist group
or political organization.

Whatever their reasons,

their crime demonstrated
the great danger

posed by a hijacker who places
no value on his own life.

We will die together.

For years, there were people
in security saying we have
to strengthen that cockpit door.

We have to be able
to exclude anyone

from coming through that door
and getting control
of that aircraft,

whatever the reason,
whether the airlines didn't want
to spend the money,

they didn't see it as a threat,
uh... it didn't happen.

After 9/11, every aircraft now

has done that,
that carries passengers,

so that has that capability
of being hijacked.

Nothing is inevitable,
nobody is immune to anything.

It could be one in a million
but it can happen.

Both Captain Leul
Abate and his co-pilot
Yonas Mekuria

received many tributes for
their actions on flight 961

including a Flight Safety
Foundation award.

I say
it's good that I'm alive,

and the world has understood
what I had gone through.

Despite their ordeal,

both Captain Abate
and his co-pilot Mekuria

continue to work
for Ethiopian Airlines.

difuze