The clatter of the newly commissioned, twin-engined helicopter changed to a dull roar as it swept off the land and moved over the sea on it's official duty of searching out and plotting, electric storms: Information that was vital for the safe operation of twentieth century travel.
After a few hours had gone by, interspersed with idle chatter between the crew, the pilot contacted the navigator and electronics officers.
"This looks like a bad storm coming up to the right of us; I'm going over to take a look."
His crew arranged their equipment, set the recording tapes, and waited.
The sky darkened: Lightning flashed and thunder shook the large craft. The pilot fought against the tumbling air currents to keep the craft steady. He climbed steadily upwards to give himself room to manoeuvre. The electricity crackled about the aircraft and the crew looked anxiously at one another.
"I've not seen anything like this before." shouted the electronics officer above the noise of the storm. "Anyway, I've got the plot out and our position sent to base, so if we have to ditch we should be OK." They all knew that even with one engine out, the craft should be able to land on the sea and float - for a limited time.
"Where, exactly are we?" asked the co-pilot.
"I make it about four hundred miles off the coast of Newfoundland." was the navigator's reply.
There was, at that moment, a tremendous flash of lightning accompanied by a deafening crack of thunder and almost immediately the ship started to drop like a stone towards the sea as all electrical power failed.
The pilots struggled with the craft as the emergency power kicked in - much to their obvious relief.
"What the blazes happened then?" shouted the navigation officer.
"I haven't a clue" replied his electronics counterpart, "but all the external equipment seems to have failed."
"What do you mean, external equipment?" demanded the pilot.
"I mean the satellite navigation systems. I can't locate any satellites at all. And," he continued in a worried tone, "I can't raise our base either."
The crew exchanged nervous glances. The pilot voiced all their misgivings. "Are our own transmitters and receivers working or has the electrical storm put those out of action too?"
"Oh they're OK, as is the radar. If we can head in the direction of land, I reckon that we could find our way by our radar transmissions. The odd thing is that, although our receivers seem to be working, I can only pick up noise and what sounds like the old morse code on very low frequencies. It is as though all the UHF and VHF transmitters in the world had ceased to work."
"Along with all the satellites? Sounds unlikely." grunted the pilot.
"Could the storm have affected them? asked the co-pilot.
"No" replied the electronics officer. "They're too far away."
As the craft was behaving itself under the auxillary power system, the pilot decided that he would go lower and see what he could find.
It was going dusk at sea level. "That's strange," muttered someone, "It was mid-morning when we went into that storm."
"Hey, look down there, I can see the lights of a large ship. Looks like a passenger liner although it is an old-fashioned shape with four funnels. You don't think that we can have, somehow, been slipped into another time zone - like the past?"
The pilot gave a sharp laugh, "Well, there was enough power in that last lightning strike to light a small city for years. Heaven knows what it could have done to us."
He looked at his astonished crew members. "I'm only joking! Now, lets get organised if we are ever going to get home!"
"I can see something, about thirty miles ahead in the path of that ship." said the electronics officer looking intently at his radar displays. Could be a small ship or an iceburg. There should be no iceburgs at this time of year." he ruminated, "Any way, their radar should spot it."
"If they have radar." muttered the co-pilot. I can't see anything on their masts and I can't contact them on the emergency radio channels."
The pilot looked worried, "We had better put down a transponder by parachute. It should be enough to warn their officers."
The electronics officer did as ordered and the small transmitter drifted down to the cold ocean below. "I'm heading back into that storm which will be one way to get our bearings." The helicopter turned back into the threatening cloud of electrical discharges and soon disappeared from the sight of the look-outs on the deck of the liner.
"What the heck was that thing?" queried one to another.
"I dunno! Should we report it d'you think?"
"Not now", said his mate, "as there is nothing to be seen they wouldn't believe us anyway."
