Is This Seat Taken?

By Jonathan van Bilsen

Flying always comes with a degree of uncertainty, but I have long believed, as long as the aircraft remains airborne, I am prepared to negotiate the rest. After more than 800 flights, I have accumulated a respectable collection of mishaps and close calls, all of which I have survived, clearly against the odds. One of the more memorable episodes unfolded on a short hop between Saint Petersburg and Moscow, twenty-five years ago.

Reaching Saint Petersburg had been straightforward enough: an eight-hour train journey, across a Russia, which was still finding its footing, nine years after the collapse of Communism. Infrastructure was not yet reassuring. As I stepped onto the train, I was handed a broom handle. No explanation. Just the broom handle.

Confused, I carried it down the corridor to my compartment, where an attendant approached. I asked what the broom handle was for. He guided me inside, closed the door, and wedged the stick firmly under the locking mechanism. “Security,” he said.

That was the entirety of the briefing. I thanked him, waited until he disappeared down the corridor, and then positioned the broom handle exactly the same way. I slept for six hours, though not particularly well, and with one eye open the entire time.

After a week in Saint Petersburg, I decided to fly back to Moscow, reasoning, aviation felt marginally safer than rail travel. I booked a seat on Aeroflot, made my way to the gate, and boarded the aircraft.

That was when I noticed it was a Super DC-8, built in 1962. Aircraft windows usually carry the installation date, and this one was not subtle about its age. The plane was half empty and looked every bit its years. One flight attendant delivered a safety briefing, in Russian only, and I settled into a window seat, quietly reviewing my life choices.

The aircraft thundered down the runway, shaking violently. One overhead compartment was missing its door entirely. Another sprang open during take-off.

About halfway through the ninety-minute flight, we hit turbulence. Normally, this barely registers with me, but this time the single aisle seat in front of me began to shake violently. Then the seat back pitched forward, the frame gave way, and the entire seat tore loose and collapsed into the aisle.

The flight attendant glanced at it, shrugged, and carried on. No announcement. No concern. Everyone prepared for landing.

The remainder of the flight was uneventful, in the sense we landed on the runway and nothing else detached from the aircraft. It remains one of the more memorable flights of my life. One which, clearly, was not part of the plan.

Jonathan van Bilsen is a television host, award winning photographer, published author, columnist and keynote speaker. Follow his escapades at photosNtravel.com