On the evening of October 16, 1956, Pan American #N-90953, a
Boeing 377 Stratocruiser under the command of Capt. Richard Ogg
departed Honolulu for what was to be a routine Trans-Pacific flight
to San Francisco.
By Gary V. Plomp
On the evening of October 16, 1956, Pan American #N-90953, a Boeing 377 Stratocruiser under the command of Capt. Richard Ogg departed Honolulu for what was to be a routine Trans-Pacific flight to San Francisco.
On board the Clipper “Sovereign of the Skies” was a crew of seven and 24 passengers.
Approximately mid-way, the flight was cleared to ascend from 13,000 feet to 21,000 feet. After a reduction from climb power to a cruise power setting by Flight Engineer Frank Garcia, the number one engine, a Pratt & Whitney R-4360 Wasp Major “ran away” and the crew was unable to feather the propeller. The flight engineer, under orders from Capt. Ogg, intentionally starved the huge Corncob engine of oil to seize it, however the prop continued to spin.
The windmilling propeller caused severe drag and the huge Strat soon lost altitude and the airspeed decayed. Their only ray of hope was “Ocean Station November.”
Long over-water flights in the 1950s were still an adventure and lacked the modern navigation-aids we have become so used to today (i.e. GPS). Along the route of flight, certain ships were positioned to act as reference points and to aid in navigation and communication. Such was the case in the Pacific with Ocean Station November in the form of the Coast Guard cutter U.S. Pontchartrain.
The navigator plotted a course for the ship.
At 2:45 a.m, it was out of the frying pan and into the fire for the crew as the number four R-4360 radial decided to give up the ghost! The errant 28-cylinder engine was quickly shut down, and a story reminiscent of the film “The High and The Mighty” was being played out for real. Now on two engines, the flight crew definitely had a pucker factor to contend with!
Since all this drama was occurring at night, Capt. Ogg made the prudent decision to circle the Pontchartrain, burn off fuel and ditch the airplane near the ship in the light of morning. At 8:20 a.m, the Stratocruiser struck the calm water and broke in half. The passengers were put in life rafts with rescue boats from the Pontchartrain picking up all the passengers and crew from the airliner which floated for 21 minutes until finally sinking to the abyss. As in the case of U.S. Air flight #1549, there were no fatalities. It was front-page news in Life Magazine!
Back in the 1980s, I had the privilege to meet and speak to this legendary pilot who resided in the Bay Area. He had stopped at Watsonville Airport with his private aircraft to have lunch. Capt. Ogg passed away in 1991. As previously mentioned, long distance flights over large bodies of water in the 1940s and ’50s could be dicey considering the reliability factor of the radial engine and aircraft that flew at altitudes that put them in the weather not above it.
Capt. Chesley Sullenberger and his U.S. Air crew did a miraculous job of ditching his Airbus in the Hudson River however, he was not the first … yes, history does repeat itself.
Author Gary V. Plomp is an aviation historian, an illustrator and a consultant who lives in San Martin.
