I boarded the Johannesburg-St. Helena. They call it 'the flight with no return': I'll tell you why

The island of St. Helena is a 'cliff' of 12 kilometers by 10 lost in the South Atlantic Ocean, almost three thousand kilometers from the coast of Namibia.

She is famous for being the last exile of Napoleon Bonaparte, who lived there for six years and died there in 1821.

It is a Overseas territory of the United Kingdom with a population of just under 4,000 and that Until 2017 it could only be reached from the mainland by ship, with a trip that (to and from Cape Town) took a whopping six days.

Seven years ago, a strip of asphalt, an aircraft apron and a small terminal were opened in the eastern part of the island.

Ed Airlink, what would later become South Africa's largest airline following the collapse of the historic flag carrier South African Airways, took to flying there from his Johannesburg hub using his Embraer ERJ-190s., making A stopover to refuel in Walvis Bay, on the coast of Namibia, on the leg to the island that usually faces headwinds.

Over the years, thanks to the experience gained on the route, there are days when the technical stopover in Namibia is skipped and the flight becomes non-stop. It happens when there are few passengers on board and/or when the winds instead of being in the bow are in the tail, 'pushing' the airplane making the flight faster and reducing fuel consumption. But the decision, whether or not to make the technical stopover, is made only when the plane is already in the air. And communicated to the passengers.

E' A challenge to the sometimes extreme weather conditions found on the island, with winds such that landings were impossible, forcing flights to be Delayed by hours or canceled, or to turn around halfway across the Atlantic Ocean. when the crosswind on the runway, below 55 knots at the time of departure from Joburg, exceeds that mark while the plane is in the air.

As it was for Napoleon, the island of St. Helena can be called a destination with no return for Airlink flights. Meaning that because the runway is only 1,950 meters long, the ERJ's fuel tanks cannot be filled beyond a certain limit, because otherwise the plane would be too heavy to stop .

For this reason, once the 'decision point,' which is half the distance between Walvis Bay and the island, has been passed, the plane does not have enough fuel to return to Walvis Bay and has no alternative but to land on the island. If the wind has picked up in the meantime, pilots can do nothing but try to land anyway, and then try again and again to put their wheels on the runway, hoping that the wind, perhaps even for a few minutes, will drop enough to allow them to do so.

Ultimately, should the fuel run out, there would be no alternative to ditching. And considering that the Ocean is not the Hudson River, it is highly unlikely that the maneuver could be accomplished without harm.

Could it, The Flight Club, have spared itself and its enthusiastic constituents, such an 'adventure'? No. And, indeed, on a beautiful, but somewhat windy, early December day, I boarded the 'flight with no return' from Johannesburg to Napoleon Island, hoping not to be the first in the seven years the flight has been operated without incident to experience a ditching in the Atlantic.

After checking in at Terminal B at OR Tambo International Airport in Johannesburg, the one dedicated to domestic or regional flights, I went through security and immigration at Terminal A, from where international flights such as the one to St. Helena depart.

That day, flight 4Z131 boarded from gate A22, one of the gates served by the interpista buses. Boarding started right on time at 9 am. Few passengers, just enough to be comfortable in one bus. So, quick procedure and arrival at the plane on the apron in a couple of minutes. Then boarding from the front post only.

All set, shall we go? No. Because, then accordance with the actual number of passengers on board and the blowing of the winds, a final refilling, if any, of the tanks is done just before pushback, with the commander overseeing refueling operations.

A few minutes and the kerosene nozzle was detached from the wing, the doors closed and the ERJ pushed back. Five minutes by cab and we were in the air just before 9:30. During the taxi, the commander had briffed us that, given the small number of passengers (by eye about fifty out of the 98 that Airlink's ERJ-190 can carry) and favorable winds, perhaps the stopover in Walvis Bay would not have been necessary, before adding that he would have brought us up to date later anyway.

Airlink is a true 'full service' company, not like those around the world posing as such and then charging you for food and drink on board. So, a half hour after takeoff, the two stewardesses dedicated to the Economy cabin (a third was exclusively serving the Business Class cabin, which on the -190 is on two rows in 1-2 configuration for 6 total seats) came by with the trolley, offering water, soft drinks, white wine, red wine and beer, as well as a choice of chicken or beef sandwich. The sandwich was good although a bit chewy but whatever, we were not on board for catering.

Half an hour later, the commander announced that given the favorable winds, we would have set course directly for St. Helena, with no stopover for refueling. No cries of jubilation on board, but a nice hour and a half saved on total flight time, which Airlink schedules at 6 hours and 25 minutes (including refueling). Another half hour later, the coast of Namibia passed ten thousand meters below us, and the Atlantic Ocean (and nothing else, between us and St. Helena) spread out before us for the next three scant hours of flight.

The fateful moment, that of the 'point of no return' we reached around 12:30 p.m., Johannesburg time (St. Helena is two hours behind and has the same time zone as Great Britain). No announcement from the cabin, nor any turn to return to the mainland. From that point on, we could have done nothing but land, one way or another..

Despite the thrill in the run-up to landing, the ocean leg was rather dull. Aboard his aircraft, all Embraer aircraft from ERJ-135 to ERJ-195) Airlink has no entertainment system, no wifi. So to pass the time you can look out the window (boring, over the Atlantic), read a book or the Skyway in-flight magazine, or watch or listen to something you downloaded to your device before the flight, making sure that there are no power outlets of any kind in the cabin, so it is wise, just in case, to equip yourself with a powerbank.

A second meal was still served on what (if we had made the layover) would have been the second flight of the day. The choice was always between chicken and beef, but not sandwiches this time. Choosing the beef, in a colorful box decorated with a picture of one of the varieties of the Sunbird (the sunbird, which is the company's logo) I was faced with one portion i pastrami accompanied by something that would be outlawed in Italy: a pasta salad topped with a thick, yellowish sauce in which a few pieces of vegetables were dipped, basically a Russian salad with pasta inside (however, the box was really pretty).

Things got more interesting when, a half hour before landing, from the cockpit the commander announced the start of the descent to the Napoleon 'rock', where we would find cloudy skies and a temperature of 20°C. A few minutes later, one of the flight attendants passed along the aisle 'shooting' into the cabin the contents of a canister of disinfectant spray, as is always the case when flying from the mainland to remote islands (such as precisely St. Helena) or in the opposite direction.

Shortly after 2 a.m. (St. Helena time), as we passed through a light layer of low clouds, I caught a glimpse of the island to the right of the plane and was tempted to shout 'Land!' as someone from the crew of Joao Da Nova Castella, the Portuguese explorer who discovered St. Helena on May 21, 1502, probably did.

The final approach was quite impressive because the island's volcanic cliffs grew closer and closer, and as we descended we continued to see only sea, no land and no runway. In addition, the last 20 seconds of flight was quite a bit of a dance with the wings 'flapping' left and right.

Then, below us the tarmac. A nice hard touch (a bit 'Ryanair style,' but in a place like this it can also fit), the fairly sharp braking and parking in front of the terminal.

End, after four and a half non-stop hours, of a flight not exactly like any other. And welcome to the island of Napone.