The black beetle-like helicopter glides easily over the humid seas. I turn to Hank, our main camera-operator and explain our position over the South Pacific Ocean… The wind picks up as we approach the small archipelago in the distance.
The radio crackles into life and the pilot’s voice rings out from the speakers:
“This is a code 7435 storm, we’re gonna need to ask you passengers to hold on tight… This’ll be a bumpy ride, but we’ll make it.”
We do so, but it didn’t help much. The camera and heavy equipment clang about and I move as far away from Simon as possible because he looks a rather interesting shade of pale green. I spot the cause of the mess, a vast purplish tornado tearing up the deep navy sea. Suddenly, my head smashes against the side of the seat. I look up and a yellow/ gold smoke is enveloping the helicopter, the pilot’s head lolls and the beetle nose-dives. I think in my drowsy state about what it must be like for a bird the first time it flies, then my head hits the chair again and I black out.
