Being so far from Heyward's Crossing, we relied on generators for our electricity. It must have been a great day when they were first installed as until then there would have been kerosene lamps at night and of course no refrigeration other than a Coolgardie Safe, a primitive device consisting of a wooden box frame with sides of iron mesh and covered with hessian which was dipped in a water trough to keep it damp. A breeze caused the water in the hessian to evaporate and this made the interior of the safe cooler, but it was nothing like as effective as an electric refrigerator. As with all things, onCe you have something, you wonder how you ever managed without it, so when our main generator stopped working, John could see at a glance that it looked bad, and called out Hey's electrician, 'Sparky' Neilson who was very versatile, handling mains power, generators and car electrics and so was a very busy man. When he looked at the generator and pursed his lips, we could tell the news was not good.

“We'll have to send to Brisbane for parts,” he announced. ”It could take weeks to send them out on the train.”

“What if Lesley flew down and picked them up?” asked John.

“I never thought of that. Let me give them a ring.”

After he got off the phone, it seemed the company was quite impressed that we would send a plane down to pick up parts, and promised to have them crated up in three days and at the airport.

I don't mind flying by myself, but I thought it had been a while since Jenny had been to Brisbane, so I rang and asked if she'd be interested in a brief shopping trip? Of course she would!

We removed the two rear seats, numbers five and six, from the plane, so that the crate could be secured at the midpoint of the aeroplane, and also where it could be attached so there was no chance of it moving around if we struck turbulence.

Three days later, Tom dropped Jenny off early in the morning and we took off for Brisbane. It seemed like old times again. While I had been transitioning, we had spent so much time travelling together, but once I'd had my surgery and post-operative checks the trips became much less frequent, something we both missed. We chatted away happily about where we would go shopping, and also decided to visit our regular beauty parlour which hadn't seen us in many months. Once we landed, I taxied to the correct area where men from the company would load the crate and secure it in position. I also asked for the fuel to be topped up. Then we took a taxi into Brisbane and spent a few glorious hours doing 'girly' things and generally having a great time.

When we returned to the Cessna, I did my usual checks and made sure that the crate of parts, which was larger than I anticipated, was properly secured. The final decision to fly always rests with the pilot who must be confident that everything is in order. Then we climbed aboard and I went through the the usual pre-flight routine. With permission granted to take off, I taxied to the allotted runway and soon we were in the air and climbing steadily to our cruising height of ten thousand feet as we headed north-west towards home.

We were about an hour from Mackenzie Station when the starboard engine coughed twice and cut out. Like all pilots, my eyes constantly flickered over the instrument panel, and only a few seconds before there had been no sign of trouble. I tried restarting the engine twice, but without success. I flicked switches to make sure that the port engine was running on a separate auxiliary fuel tank from the main tank as I suspected a fuel blockage in the starboard engine. Then I turned to Jenny who would obviously be worried and I had to gain her confidence.

“Well, it's a good thing I spent hours with Steve practising flying on one engine,” I said with a smile.

I observed her closely and she looked concerned but not panicky and I wanted her to stay that way.

“I'll tell you what I'm doing and going to do Jenny,” I said in a calm voice.”I think there's a fuel blockage in the engine that has stopped so I've switched the port engine to another tank with a different batch of fuel. We have plenty of height at the moment, so if the engine keeps running smoothly, I propose to keep going to Mackenzie Station and land there. If it shows signs of shutting down, then I will look for a clear area and land. Fortunately the land we're passing over is mostly scrub with few trees,so it won't be too hard to find a clear area where I can set her down. What I must do now is notify Air Traffic Control of exactly what has happened, my position, height, speed, flight direction and what I intend to do. I will also notify Emergency Services at Heyward's Crossing and they will probably send a fire engine out to the station. I don't want that to worry you. It's better that it's there and not needed than needed and not there, ok?”

Jenny nodded.”Ok.” she said and her voice had a slight quaver.

“Good,” I said. “Now the thing we have to do and the thing I really wish wasn't necessary, is to call Tom and John and tell them what is happening.”

Jenny's voice sounded a little stronger “I know what you mean, but they have to know.”

With the loss of the starboard engine, the natural inclination of the aircraft was to turn to the right as the port engine pushed it around and there was some drag from the starboard wing and stationary engine,so I had to compensate for this with the rudder and keep us heading in the right direction. I set about contacting Air Traffic Control and they were happy with my plan and gave me a radio channel to keep in constant touch in case circumstances changed. They would also make sure that any other aircraft kept out of my flight path so I didn't have to make any unnecessary course changes. I also contacted the Emergency Services at Hey and as I expected, they said they would turn out an emergency crew — 'just as a precaution'. I tried to reach Tom but couldn't, so I called John instead and explained what was happening. He was really calm, which helped me because for Jenny's sake I was acting a lot more calmly than I really felt. We said that we loved each other, and I promised to do my utmost to land unscathed. John said he would do his best to locate Tom and patch him through to us. He asked if there was anything else he could do, and I said that if he could reach Steve my instructor, perhaps he could offer some extra advice.

A few minutes later the radio crackled and it was Steve.

“I see those hours we spent practising flying on one engine are paying off,” he said.

“Yes Steve. I'm so glad I took those lessons. The port engine is going fine at present and we are losing height very gradually, so all being well, we should reach the Station in about 45 minutes.”

“I'll head over there,” he said “It might be some help to have someone on the ground to help guide you in.”

“All help gratefully received. Thanks Steve,” I replied.

My ears were acutely tuned to the sound of the port engine but for now it was purring along without a care in the world, and I hoped it would continue that way. There was still no word from Tom and I knew Jenny was fretting, but there was nothing I could do. I knew John would be doing his best to find him. Then I remembered when he dropped Jenny off, he said he would call John to find out our arrival time. Surely he must have rung by now?

One thing I hadn't told Jenny was that with only one engine and the extra weight of the crate on board, I would only have one chance at landing the aircraft on the runway. There was no hope of aborting the landing and going around again.

Soon I could make out the ring of hills that surrounded the station buildings in the distance and it was at that moment that Tom came on the radio. I concentrated on my flying and did my best to ignore what he and Jenny said to each other. It was the private words of a man and woman in a situation where the worst possible thing could happen, but I had to keep my headphones on in case anything important to me came through. I was relieved when Jenny told Tom of her total confidence in me, and I wished that I felt as confident myself.

Then the aircraft slipped over the ring of hills as Tom signed off, and Steve's voice came on the radio.

“I have a visual on you Lesley, you are lining up well with the runway. Keep losing height, over.”

“Thanks Steve,” I replied. I could see the start of the runway not too far ahead and I wanted to use as much of it as I could. I knew with the reduction in speed, the tendency of the plane to yaw was more pronounced and I concentrated on trying to keep her straight.

“Drifting to the right a bit,” came Steve's voice, and I made the necessary correction. Another thing I hadn't told Jenny was that while it was true I'd spent some hours practising flying on one engine, I hadn't actually practised landing on one. That was supposed to happen in a couple of weeks, but suddenly my 'practical exam' was here, ready or not.

“You're lined up well now,” came Steve's voice, “Just keep her like that."

The plane dropped lower and lower and then we were over the start of the runway, and a few seconds later I felt the wheels touch the ground. I immediately reduced the revolutions of the port engine and gently applied the brakes. With two engines I would normally have changed the propeller pitch to help slow the aircraft but with only one engine I didn't want to try anything fancy. If the brakes had to be serviced after this landing it was a small price to pay. We had significantly slowed by the time we were halfway down the runway, perhaps due to the extra weight of the crate and its contents, and I managed to come to a halt not far from the hanger. It was only then that I noticed my knuckles were white on the control column. I turned to Jenny and we hugged.

“Well Sis, we made it,” I said.

“Thank you,Lesley,” Jenny said in a low voice, “You were marvellous. I've never seen anyone so calm in an emergency.”

I felt somehow guilty, like it had all been an act, so I said “There's a couple of men outside who want to assure themselves we are ok.”

With that we got out of the plane and straight into the arms of our men. As we hugged, the emergency crew started to cheer, and they were joined by the station hands. Somehow I had become a heroine!

Then Steve came up to hug me in turn.

“That was a text-book single engine landing,” he said, and turning to John he went on “You've got a top-class pilot here John. If she ever has spare time, I'd love to use her as an assistant instructor.”

I could feel myself glowing red with embarrassment — I don't think I'll ever manage to stop myself blushing.

“Can I just borrow her for another five minutes?” said Steve. “We need to know if that engine problem was due to contaminated fuel. Other pilots' lives may be at risk.”

“Sure,” said John and I squeezed his hand.

“I'll only be a few minutes, why don't you come too?”

We walked back to the Cessna and Steve unscrewed the starboard engine cowling and we examined the fuel filter. Sure enough, it was badly blocked.

“Right,” said Steve quietly, “John needs you now, so leave this to me. I contacted Brisbane while you were still in the air to give them a 'heads up' about a potentially contaminated fuel batch, and now I'll contact them again to confirm it. I hope they managed to stop anyone else taking off with that batch of fuel in their tanks.”

Later I heard that the pilot of one single-engine plane had had to abort a take-off as the fuel line blocked, but fortunately he managed to handle it well. Other planes that had been filled with the contaminated batch had not yet taken off, so their fuel was drained and the tanks flushed. That was a big relief.

I ran back to where John was standing back a bit from the aircraft, and gave him another hug.

“That's enough aeroplanes for one day!” I said.

That night, I was woken by a sound. I turned to John and put my arm around him. His body was shaking and the sound I heard was him crying, something I'd never seen him do before. I held him tightly.

After a while the shaking stopped and he said quietly “What must you think of your big he-man crying? I can hardly believe it myself, but the thought came to me how I might have lost you today, and that's when the tears started, and I just couldn't stop them.”

“John, darling,” I said “It doesn't in the least diminish you in my estimation, in fact it makes me love and respect you more. You know one reason they reckon women live longer than men is that we don't bottle up our emotions like men tend to do. Don't ever feel you have to conceal your emotions from me, please. One of the things that helped me hold it together up there was the thought of you and how much I love you. I hope we have many more happy years together and I wasn't going to let an engine malfunction rob me of them.

“You are right of course,” said John. “While you were still up there, I thought that if you landed safely, we should sell the plane, but now I realise that is not the right decision at all. Driving a car is at least as dangerous, if not more so, and the way you handled that crisis, plus Steve's endorsement of your actions convinced me that you are one of the best pilots in Queensland, maybe even Australia.”

I was relieved when John said that. I love flying but if he had insisted, then I couldn't have put him through the worry every time I flew, and I would have to have given it up. Fortunately, I was not faced with that decision.

Inevitably, the story of the flight was written up in the local newspaper under the headline taken from that old World War Two song “On a wing and a prayer”. I did wonder if Jenny would ever be game to fly with me again, but she was surprisingly confident in my abilities.

“If you could get us out of that scrape you could get us out of anything!” she declared.