Did turbulence cause the breakup of tragic 1952 Aer Lingus DC-3 “Saint Kevin” on 10 January 1952 in Wales? An official enquiry stated that turbulence had been a major contributory factor: “The encountering of a powerful down-current of air on the lee side of Snowdon which forced the aircraft down into an area of very great turbulence were through one or another of several possible causes the pilot or pilots lost control.”
But doubts remain. In his memoir, the Irish inspector of accidents, RW O’Sullivan, says that neither he nor his British counterpart could accept that turbulence was the sole cause of the accident.
The C-47, belonging to Aer Lingus, was on its way from London to Dublin when it suddenly entered a dive and ultimately crashed near Llyn Gwynant. All twenty passengers and three crew members lost their lives in the terrible crash.
It was determined that the aircraft had encountered a mountain wave caused by Snowdon, ultimately leading to a loss of control.
The Aer Lingus DC-3, named Saint Kevin, was en route from London to Dublin when it suddenly lost control and crashed into a peat bog in Cwm Edno, near Lake Gwynant in Wales. The impact was so severe that no distress call could be made. Investigators later determined that the outer starboard wing had broken off due to over stressing, causing the aircraft to plummet to the ground at a speed well over 300 mph. The crash resulted in a brief fire that was extinguished by the bog water. The impact was so intense that death was instantaneous for all onboard, with some bodies being thrown clear while others remained in the crater.
The bodies recovered from the crater were mostly unidentifiable, as were the two engines and a large portion of the forward fuselage that vanished in the crash. The final moments of the doomed flight saw the port wing and remaining portion of the starboard wing folding inwards through the fuselage as the wreckage submerged. Four days after the tragedy, only thirteen of the twenty-three bodies had been recovered, with just ten having been identified, illustrating the horrific nature of the crash.
The Inspector of Accidents for the Irish government, RW O’Sullivan, recounted in his memoirs the grim discovery of a severed index finger with a playing card, the nine of diamonds, attached at the knuckle joint. The loss of the Saint Kevin not only devastated the families of the victims and the airline but also shook the nation to its core, transcending the ordinary bounds of sorrow associated with fatal air accidents. The crash quickly became a national tragedy, with the news broadcast causing an outpouring of grief across the country as the entire nation seemed to mourn the loss of those aboard the ill-fated flight.
Pride of the nation
Aer Lingus had captured the affection of the public during that era and was the source of great national pride. The young national airline had captured the public’s imagination, showcasing Ireland’s capability to compete with the best in the aviation industry worldwide.
The Cumberbatch trophy had been presented by the British Guild of Air Pilots and Navigators in 1950 for safety and operational reliability had bolstered the confidence of Aer Lingus staff, becoming a source of immense pride and celebration.
Following the tragic crash, the Irish Times, in an editorial, acknowledged the sorrow felt for the victims’ families but also highlighted Aer Lingus’ remarkable track record of safety over the previous fifteen years. Despite the catastrophe, the publication expressed confidence that the airline’s reputation for reliability would endure.
A letter from the Commonwealth Office to the Ministry of Aviation, released under the thirty year rule in 1986, strongly advised against penalising Aer Lingus for its plans to launch an Atlantic service (abandoned after a change to a Fine Gael led government), and highlighted the airline’s significance to the Irish people. The memo emphasised that the Ambassador in Dublin had noted Aer Lingus as a source of pride and admiration for the average Irish individual, viewing it as a symbol of Irish achievement and efficiency on the global stage following years of wartime isolation. The Ambassador also noted the public’s keen interest in the airline, as evidenced by the numerous visitors touring Collinstown Airport to witness the operations of their national carrier.
Workhorse of the skies
During the time of the Saint Kevin crash, the Douglas DC-3 was workhorse of the skies. Aer Lingus was in the midst a significant postwar expansion facilitated by the acquisition of ex-US Air Force C47s converted to civilian DC-3s at discounted prices. Prior to the tragic incident, Aer Lingus had reached several milestones, including carrying its millionth passenger and achieving a £72,000 profit in 1951, its largest to date. In 1952, the airline set another record by transporting 277,000 passengers. The Saint Kevin (EI-AFL) had been purchased by Aer Lingus in June 1950, registered in Ireland on May 15 of the same year, and was granted its airworthiness certificate by the Department of Industry and Commerce on June 9, 1950, valid until May 9, 1952. Built by Douglas in their California plant in 1943 as a military C47B-35Dk, it was initially in the US Air Force with the serial number 44-77115, later transferred to the RAF and then Scottish Aviation Ltd for civilian conversion before being sold to Aer Lingus. At the time of the crash, the aircraft had a total of 4,339 flight hours, with 2,343 under the Irish flag, well within the normal life span for comparable aircraft. Despite its long history in service since 1936, the DC-3 remained a popular choice for airlines due to its durability and dependability on short-range routes.
Between 1936 and 1941, civil aviation in the USA grew 600pc attributed predominantly to the popular appeal of the DC-3 aircraft. By the conclusion of World War II, over 10,692 DC-3s, in various versions, had been manufactured in the US, with an additional approximately 2,000 being produced under license in the USSR. The introduction of the DC-3 played a pivotal role in elevating Aer Lingus from a minor peripheral carrier to a reputable airline. On the stormy afternoon of January 10th, the aircraft awaited twenty passengers at Northolt for Dublin, having departed Collinstown on the outbound journey earlier in the day at 2:43 p.m. Captain Keohane had a long and busy day, beginning with a morning flight to Birmingham before returning to Collinstown in challenging flying conditions. Due to the tight schedule, there was no time for lunch, and a hot meal was packed onboard for the captain, although it remains uncertain if he had the opportunity to eat it. Throughout the day, intense meteorological conditions, including gale-force winds, electrical disturbances, turbulence, and hailstones, were fueled by a strong westerly airflow spreading across Ireland and parts of England, creating a challenging environment for aviation.
Turbulence and downdrafts
The challenging weather conditions posed a significant risk of icing and severe downdrafts, particularly in mountainous regions. The powerful winds’ impact on the Saint Kevin was evident as Captain Keohane managed to complete the Collinstown-Northolt sector with a tailwind in just one hour and thirty-six minutes, while facing headwinds ranging from 60 to 75 mph during the return journey, extending the estimated time to two hours and twenty-five minutes. Another Aer Lingus DC-3 traveling from Paris to Dublin had to divert to Liverpool due to concerns of running out of fuel caused by headwinds. During the subsequent inquiry into the Saint Kevin’s loss, Captain Bill Wallace recounted the struggle to maintain steady airspeed amidst ice accumulation on the wings and intense turbulence, with the hostess describing the impact of ice breaking away from the aircraft’s wings. Captain Pete Little, who would later become Aer Lingus’ chief pilot, recounted encountering extreme turbulence over the Welsh mountains during his flight along the Dublin-Northolt route on the same evening. Despite the challenges, Captain Keohane, having completed multiple trips across the Irish Sea within seven hours, was acutely aware of the demanding weather conditions along the route.
Upon landing, Captain Keohane immediately delved into studying the weather forecasts for the return journey, a routine practice for pilots. Typically, these forecasts were received from the duty forecaster at the meteorological office and relayed to the captain. However, on this particular occasion, Captain Keohane and First Officer Newman took the unusual step of personally meeting with the duty officer, Joan McCay, a highly skilled meteorologist and one of the few women in senior positions within the service during that period. In accordance with Aer Lingus regulations at the time, Captain Keohane had the authority to select from three different route options for the return journey. While he could have chosen either the ‘Bristol route’ or the ‘Wallesey route,’ he ultimately decided on a more direct path, the Daventry-Nevin route over the Welsh hills, despite potential reservations about the weather conditions. The subsequent inquiry concurred that the decision was based on the collective judgment of Aer Lingus pilots who attested that, given the available meteorological data, they would have made the same choice in similar circumstances.
On the evening of Thursday, January 10, 1952, as the sunset at 4:11 p.m., the twilight was fading as the order was given at Northolt to commence boarding for flight EI-165. Despite the wet and blustery weather, a full moon illuminated the sky. Northolt Airport, situated in west London and established in 1915 as a flying corps base, played a significant role in the defence of London during the First World War. During the Second World War, several Polish air force squadrons were stationed there during the Battle of Britain. In post-war years, notable figures such as Sir Winston Churchill landed at Northolt in July 1945 after the Potsdam conference, leading to the base’s subsequent use by the Ministry of Civil Aviation for domestic and European flights. Aer Lingus, having originally operated from Croydon for their London services, transitioned to Northolt, before the base ultimately ceased civilian traffic operations in 1954.
The 20 passengers
The passengers on the doomed Saint Kevin included two doctors, a final year medical student, an accountant and an engineer, an off duty Aer Lingus captain, travelling with his wife and four-year-old daughter and a sixteen-year-old girl coming to live with her grandparents in Dublin. John Stackpool, a farmer and greyhound breeder from Kildorrery, Co. Cork was engaged to be married and running a hackney business. He wa son the flight because he had agreed to drive Thomas Carroll around the Cork area after Carroll’s return home for Christmas and the New Year. Carroll was owner of ‘The Tally-Ho’ pub and restaurant in Manhattan.
Emile Stone, a twenty-two-year-old student at the Royal College of Surgeons in Ireland, had stayed an extra day in London following his grandmother’s funeral and, as a result, tragically perished on the flight among twenty-two others. Jim Gaffney, lecturer at Trinity College, Dublin, was returning from Cambridge after presenting groundbreaking research on a new rare tumour he had discovered at the Pathology Society of Great Britain and Ireland. Doctor Gaffney, a prominent figure in the Irish medical community had been a doctor in the hospital in Saint Lo (the hospital the Irish red cross shipped to bombed-out Normandy in the aftermath of World War II), and where Samuel Beckett worked as interpreter. Jim was still grappling with the profound loss of his eldest son, Patrick, in a drowning accident at the age of three. His wife Ethna (nee O’Malley), the first female professor at the Royal College of Surgeons in Ireland, was pregnant with another daughter Phyllis, who’s born prematurely and moved to Temple Street children’s Hospital in Dublin where she was the first incubator baby. She was later a renowned medievalist and adjunct professor of French at UCD.
A prospective passenger who had a lucky escape was Michael J. Maguire of Manhattan House, Bird Avenue, Clonskeagh, Dublin. He was originally been scheduled to board the ill-fated flight on that day, but a friend convinced him to postpone his departure by a day.
The young air hostess who warmly welcomed the twenty passengers as they boarded the aircraft was Deirdre Sutton hailing from Sandford Road in Ranelagh, Dublin. At twenty-three years old, she had commenced her career with Aer Lingus in May 1950 after previously working as a sales assistant at Pimms department store on George’s Street. She was also quite striking – a natural blonde with a captivating smile.’
Checked Daventry
By 5:15 p.m., all passengers had settled into their seats, and hostess Deirdre Sutton proceeded to the cockpit to relay the customary message: ‘All passengers and necessary documents are onboard; doors secured, and we are ready for taxiing.’ Within minutes, the Saint Kevin was positioned at the threshold of the primary runway, and just prior to 5:23 p.m., the tower controller issued the clearance for take-off. Captain Keohane initiated the take-off at 5:25 p.m. upon reaching the minimum V2 speed of 86 knots and proceeded to join airway Amber One for the journey to Daventry.
During the early 1950s, navigation aids were fairly basic, relying heavily on a network of radio beacons, all emitting low-power signals to prevent signal overlap issues. The aircraft’s automatic direction-finding equipment would receive these signals, although they could not be deemed reliable until the aircraft was nearly directly above each beacon due to their limited output.
Following the Saint Kevin’s communication with Uxbridge after departing Northolt at 5:56 p.m., where they reported ‘Checked Daventry,’ it was noted that their groundspeed initially maintained at 97 knots decreased to 89 knots upon reaching Daventry in Northamptonshire, due to a direct headwind. A subsequent message at 6 p.m. confirmed their expected time of passage over Daventry as 7:56 p.m., with a further call to Uxbridge at 6:41 p.m. reporting ‘Check three degrees west,’ indicating the point where the track line intersected the third meridian, transitioning them to the Northern Flight Information Region (NFIR). At 6:38 p.m., the first contact with Preston (NFIR) indicated they were proceeding three degrees west and estimated arrival times at Nevin and Dublin as 19:10 (7:10 p.m.) and 19:51 (7:51 p.m.), respectively.
Around 6:54 p.m., approximately sixteen minutes before reaching the Nevin checkpoint, Captain Keohane requested permission from Preston to ascend to 6,500 feet, with no specified reason provided. Approval was granted promptly, and the Captain signalled ‘leaving four five now,’ followed by a subsequent message ‘check six five’ between 18:58 and 19:02. Their next communication preceding 19:12 was ‘check Nevin,’ despite the aircraft not being in the vicinity of Nevin but rather situated around sixteen miles south of Moel Siabod on the lee side of Snowdon.
Lagging behind
In hindsight, and as accepted by the court of inquiry, it became evident that following their clearance over Daventry, the Saint Kevin was consistently lagging behind the waypoints the pilots believed they had passed. Preston air traffic control then instructed the Saint Kevin to switch frequencies to Dublin. Upon acknowledging this directive, First Officer Newman inquired of the Preston controller about any information on outbound aircraft from Dublin following the London route. In response, the controller confirmed that “Easy Charlie Item” had departed Dublin at 18:48, estimating arrival at Nevin two minutes past the hour. The “EI-ACI” referenced in the communication was another Aer Lingus DC-3, the Saint Aidan, under the command of Captain Pete Little with First Officer W. A. Mackay.
Subsequently, First Officer Newman contacted the Saint Aidan, cautioning them about rough conditions over the hills that evening and sharing their altitude changes from 4,500 to 6,500 feet, noting the turbulence persisted. Both pilots on the Saint Aidan received the message, with First Officer Mackay, managing the radio communication, acknowledging it without detecting any signs of distress in Newman’s voice.
Just before 7:15 p.m., Dublin Air Traffic Control received the final communication from the Saint Kevin, reporting their recent passage over Nevin at 6,500 feet under Instrument Flight Rules (IFR) and requesting descent clearance after passing Charlie Item. The Dublin controller acknowledged the request and granted the clearance, but whether the Saint Kevin crew received this message remains unknown, as no further transmissions were received from them thereafter. Moel Siabod lies approximately two miles north of Dolwyddelan and two miles south of Capel Curig along the airway from Holyhead, standing at 1,200 feet above sea level. Snowden is situated about six and a half miles to the east, with Lake Gwynant a mile and a half away.
Goronwy Williams remembers
On the evening of January 10, 1952, as twilight settled over the rugged and picturesque landscape of North Wales, the inhabitants, like a Dylan Thomas play, had retreated to the warmth of their winter hearths. The atmosphere took a tumultuous turn that Thursday afternoon, with inclement weather bringing forth fierce winds howling from the southwest, heavy rain pouring down, and even a touch of sleet at higher altitudes.
Farmer Goronwy Williams sat in his kitchen in Nant Gwynant around 7:15 p.m., tuned in to the BBC. Despite the gales outside, he caught an eerie sound that made him suspect an airplane flying low above his residence. Goronwy, like countless others worldwide, had been captivated by the harrowing tale of the valiant Captain Kurt Carlsen. The recent events surrounding Carlsen, who had valiantly attempted to save the Flying Enterprise after ordering the evacuation of the crew and passengers thirteen days earlier, had gripped the world’s attention.
That afternoon at 4:10 p.m., the drama reached its poignant finale as the Flying Enterprise succumbed to the English Channel’s depths, just as Carlsen and his mate Kenneth Dancy leaped from the vessel’s stack into the tumultuous waters minutes shy of Falmouth. Despite the absence of any crash or explosion sounds, Goronwy ventured outside upon the cessation of the odd noise to witness a mysterious glow on the hillside through the driving rain. Swiftly alerting a farmhand residing with him, he dashed nearly a mile to reach the nearest public phone before ascending the hill towards the site of the apparent crash.
Upon arrival, although the boggy ground had quenched the fire, the wreckage continued to smoulder. In the encompassing darkness, guided by the beam of his flashlight, Mr. Williams discerned fragments of the shattered aircraft. His quest around the somber scene led him to the harsh reality of multiple bodies strewn by the crash. The tragic tableau left him shaken to the core as he lingered at the scene for almost thirty minutes, a glimmer of hope flickering against the desolate backdrop of mountains echoing with the haunting sounds of the relentless wind.
Goronwy Williams departed the grim scene of tragedy and devastation, descending the hillside to access the nearest road, where he awaited the arrival of the rescue teams. It wasn’t until past 10 p.m. that the first responders reached the crash site, braving the fierce elements of driving sleet and treacherous, marshy terrain. Led by mountain rescue workers wielding flashlights and lanterns, the stretcher-bearers, soaked and mired in the bog, forged their way through the challenging conditions to reach the location. By the stroke of midnight, close to a hundred personnel had gathered at the site, diligently working against the odds in their rescue and recovery efforts.
Father Tom
In the parish of Blaenau-Ffestiniog in North Wales, Father Thomas Magee O.M.I., an oblate father, was engrossed in his evening reading on January 10 when he received a phone call informing him of a suspected plane crash in the vicinity. Promptly summoning a taxi, he embarked towards Bettws-y-Coed. As they approached Capel Curig village, a procession of rescue vehicles and ambulances headed towards Bangor, signifying no survivors had been found.
As daybreak illuminated the area, the extent of the tragedy began to emerge. The front section of the fuselage had plunged into the ground, forming a permanent burial site for six victims whose bodies remained unrecovered. The two engines lay nestled within smaller craters nearby, while a significant twenty-six-foot portion of the wing had been flung approximately 266 yards away. Further remnants of the aircraft were discovered strewn across the landscape, some as far as a mile and a quarter from the primary crash site.
Among the sorrowful relics left on the mountain were a child’s shoe, a doll, a woman’s wristwatch, a playing card—specifically the nine of diamonds—numerous letters, and a passport.
Coordinated by future Taoiseach Garret FitzGerald, transportation arrangements were made for the grieving families to fly to Liverpool and journey from Liverpool via train to Caernarvon. John Stacpoole’s sister Agnes was accompanied by a close friend, Ruby Walsh, grandfather of the jockeys Ruby and Katey and father of Ted. Once there, they were guided to a makeshift mortuary where personal belongings and clothing fragments led to the identification of their loved ones.
Twelve bodies recovered
Following the crash, twelve bodies were recovered and transferred to Eryri Hospital’s morgue, though only eight were eventually identified. The remains of five individuals, including the hostess Deirdre Sutton, were repatriated to Dublin for interment. After nineteen days of painstaking search and identification efforts, nine unidentifiable bodies were consigned to a communal grave on January 29, providing a solemn closure to the devastating chapter.
In the aftermath of the tragedy, six more bodies lay within the crater, a solemn site that was sanctified by the local Catholic priest. A delegation of Aer Lingus executives, led by Captain J.C. Kelly-Rogers, the Assistant General Manager (Technical), and accompanied by R.W. O’Sullivan, the Chief Aeronautical Officer of the Department of Industry and Commerce, flew to Wales the night of the crash and reached the location early the following day. The team consisted of Michael Dargan, serving as the Staff and Services Manager at that time, H.T. Williams, the Air Safety Officer, Patrick J. Brennan, Assistant Company Secretary and Company Solicitor, and Captain W.J. Scott, the Operations Manager.
Reflecting on the events 36 years later, Mr. O’Sullivan told Michael O’Toole of the Irish Press about an encounter days after the incident, where he and Michael Dargan found themselves sharing a cave and sharing light-hearted moments. Their mirth was interrupted by a man who revealed that his brother had perished in the crash and expressed concerns about the circumstances of his passing on the desolate mountainside. Assuring him of a swift and merciful end for the victims, the aviation experts sought to offer solace to the grieving relative.
Recalling the challenging ascent to the crash site on the morning following the calamity, Michael Dargan, who would later ascend to the role of Chief Executive of Aer Lingus, recounted the arduous conditions they faced. Amidst treacherous snow-covered terrain and rocky ground, removing his shoes proved unwise, leading to a realization of the risks involved. Tasked with orchestrating funerals and providing solace to the bereaved, the unfolding of those grim days was marked by profound sorrow and trauma for all parties involved. Acknowledging the support of the Welsh authorities and the conscientiousness with which the search was conducted, Dargan expressed his satisfaction with the dignified handling of the tragic incident.
The enquiry
When the official inquiry conducted by the state’s inspector of accidents ensued, the stakes are high, with reputations and livelihoods hanging in the balance, while a spectrum of influential entities, from aircraft manufacturers to fuel suppliers, remain vigilant amid the looming possibility of censure or misinterpretation. The pilot fraternity, supported by its trade union, remains on edge, cognizant of the enduring spectre of unjustly assigning blame, particularly if the pilot is deceased.
Despite the advancement of the concept of natural justice within judicial circles, the reprehensible tendency to single out pilots for accountability persists, with past instances of miscarriages of justice seared into the collective memory of airline captains. The tensions escalate further in cases where crashes lack a definitive explanation, a category into which all three Aer Lingus tragedies resulting in fatalities fall. The fatal incident involving the St. Kevin aircraft witnessed Aer Lingus pilots assuming a defensive stance, underscored by acrimonious relations between the airline’s management and its pilots.
The pilot corps consisted primarily of individuals trained in either the RAF or the Irish Air Corps. Former Air Corps aviators felt the RAF-trained counterparts looked down on them. Complicating matters further was the significant representation of Irish-born RAF personnel, exemplified by individuals like Captain Keohane, within the management echelons of both the RAF and the British civilian aviation hierarchy.
Captain J.C. Kelly-Rogers, a figure with significant authority over the technical aspects of the airline and substantial influence on the pilots, hailed from Dun Laoghaire but had predominantly worked in England, solidifying his position as a cornerstone of the British aviation hierarchy. Heading operational duties on a daily basis was Captain Bill Scott, a former RAF pilot. As of 1952, two British directors, Lord Douglas of Kirtleside and Connor Carrigan, continued to sit on the Aer Lingus board, underscoring the airline’s ties to British aviation leadership.
All pilots at Aer Lingus during that period were well-acquainted with the terrain along the Dublin-London route, and in conditions permitting Visual Flight Rules (VFR), dead-reckoning was utilized to a certain extent for position determination. Dead-reckoning involves estimating one’s position by calculating the direction and distance traveled rather than relying on landmarks or celestial observations. Additionally, Aer Lingus aircraft were equipped with a device known as a ‘Gee Box,’ capable of receiving high-frequency radio pulses from multiple ground stations arranged in an overlapping grid. The ‘Gee Box’ was user-friendly and highly accurate, but it required one of the pilots to momentarily leave the cockpit to obtain a fix, which could be challenging during severe turbulence and potentially hazardous situations. Unfortunately, the Saint Kevin did not carry a radio officer on its final, tragic flight.
Aer Lingus made the decision to discontinue the use of radio officers on the Dublin-London route in 1950, citing advancements in radio transmission communications and improved navigational aids as making these crew members redundant. This move faced significant opposition from the Irish Airline Pilots Association (IALPA) and significantly contributed to the strained industrial relations between Aer Lingus and its pilots at that time.
The radio officer question
Unsurprisingly, IALPA seized upon the absence of a radio officer as a critical factor in the Saint Kevin tragedy, leveraging it to its fullest extent. A group of pilots from IALPA approached the Minister for Industry and Commerce, submitting their concerns to the chief inspector of accidents at the Ministry of Civil Aviation (MCA) in London. Central to IALPA’s argument was the assertion that in conditions involving icing and turbulence, which could lead to a significant loss of airspeed potentially resulting in a disastrous stall or spin, both pilots should be able to focus entirely on flying the aircraft without having to handle navigation duties simultaneously. The submission from IALPA, though rebuffed by Aer Lingus management, emphasized that the presence of a radio officer on the aircraft would have facilitated the use of the ‘Gee Box,’ ensuring the aircraft stayed on its intended course.
Furthermore, tensions escalated when the pilots broached concerns regarding engine reliability. Noting the history of what they deemed an excessive number of engine failures in recent months, the submission to the MCA highlighted that there had been ten DC-3 engine replacements between January and December 1951, with seven instances necessitating the shutdown of an engine during flight. In response, Assistant General Manager (Technical) Captain J. C. Kelly-Rogers staunchly defended the airline’s record, asserting that such occurrences were regarded as part of an excellent track record.
The IALPA submission continued: “the association regard it as significant that in May 1950 Aer Lingus increased from twenty-four hours to forty-eight hours the period of inspection of airframe and engine. The new procedure was that pilots, rather than licensed aeronautical engineers, were to carry out pre-flight ground inspections at all airports.”
While there are differing opinions among retired Aer Lingus pilots regarding the necessity of a radio officer on board the Saint Kevin, with some adamantly believing that their presence could have prevented the tragedy, it was ultimately confirmed that engine failure did not contribute to the fatal incident. It is without a doubt that Aer Lingus’ commitment to maintaining the highest standards of aircraft upkeep was as stringent in 1951 as it is at present.
According to the Irish Airline Pilots’ Association (IALPA), having a radio officer on board the St. Kevin could have ensured the aircraft’s navigation accuracy. They criticized the routing of the flight and suggested that Captain Keohane would have chosen a different path if provided with an accurate weather forecast. The pilots proposed that, in the absence of a recognized direct airway, the appropriate instrument flight rules (IFR) route from London to Dublin should pass through Daventry, the Dee Estuary, and Skerries Light.
In their communication with the British chief inspector of accidents, the pilots, represented by the Irish Airline Pilots’ Association, voiced multiple concerns, some of which painted Aer Lingus in a less than favourable light. While acknowledging that certain points were rooted in trade union advocacy, it was evident that genuine apprehension underscored their narrative. Firstly, the pilots raised the issue of Captain Keohane’s extensive working hours leading up to the crash amidst adverse weather conditions, deeming them excessive. They emphasized their unwavering faith in Keohane’s capabilities, vehemently rejecting any insinuation of misjudgement on his part in relation to the incident, alluding to potential crew fatigue without explicitly stating it.
Their second contention centred around purportedly inaccurate weather reports concerning the Welsh mountains due to the absence of a meteorological station in the vicinity. Moreover, they criticized the inadequacy of the Nevin radio beacon, citing its ineffectiveness in times of electrical interference. The pilots also voiced concerns regarding the contentious removal of radio officers, asserting that in turbulence and icing conditions that impacted airspeed, both pilots would be engrossed in flying the aircraft, leaving them unable to operate the ‘Gee’ apparatus for navigational purposes.
Engine failures
The pilots’ submissions underscored a blend of legitimate grievances and advocacy initiatives aimed at enhancing safety measures and operational efficiency within Aer Lingus.
The pilots raised concerns about engine failures, noting an abnormal frequency of such incidents on Aer Lingus aircraft in the preceding months. They were wary of the increased duration of airframe and engine inspections from twenty-four to forty-eight hours and expressed dissatisfaction with pilots conducting pre-flight checks instead of licensed engineers at airports other than Dublin. Additional grievances focused on inconsistencies in propeller de-icing controls across the DC-3 fleet and potential carbon monoxide risks due to the removal of detecting apparatus in EI-AFL’s heating system.
In response, the airline management refuted these allegations, presenting records detailing Captain Keohane’s duty hours and flight patterns to demonstrate compliance with company regulations. They clarified that the monthly flying hours were limited to 85 in winter and 100 during the summer months, contrasting with BOAC’s yearly cap of 1,000 hours. Regarding the Nevin beacon, Aer Lingus defended its effectiveness by highlighting its 25 nm radiation range and minimal interference susceptibility, countering the pilots’ assertions of extended radiation coverage.
The company’s communications controller had not received any grievances from pilots regarding this system. In response to the critique concerning the removal of radio officers, the management detailed the transition process initiated in October 1948 when the British Ministry of Civil Aviation announced the gradual replacement of MF/WT aeronautical communications with VHF/RT over a two-year period. This transformation was followed by comprehensive testing of the updated equipment and collaborative discussions between management and pilots on the subject of radio communications and navigation.
Addressing the accusations related to engine failures, the management highlighted that in the entirety of 1951, there were ten unscheduled engine replacements. Pilots had to feather a propeller in-flight on seven occasions, reflecting an improvement compared to 1950 and illustrating a declining trend. Regarding the reduction in the inspection timeframe for airframe and engine hours, Aer Lingus clarified that this adjustment aligned with industry norms, with BEA adopting a fifty-hour span compared to Aer Lingus’ forty-eight hours.
The alteration in pre-flight inspections, switching from local staff to airline personnel, aimed to enhance accountability and alignment with Aer Lingus interests at various airports. However, the most significant tensions arose not from the pilots but from the airline’s safety officer, tasked with overseeing safety standards and ensuring Aer Lingus conformed to them. In 1952, the safety officer, H.T. Williams, who was neither a pilot nor an aeronautical engineer, clashed with the management post the St. Kevin crash. Initially met with reluctance, he was permitted to attend the public inquiry in London under strict conditions, necessitating approval from the company solicitor before any involvement in the proceedings. Mr. Williams had transitioned to Aer Lingus from its affiliated company, Aer Línte, amid the contentious government decision to forgo the Atlantic service prior to its launch.
High Tension Williams
Mr Williams faced criticism from certain factions within the Aer Lingus management, who coined the nickname ‘High Tension Williams’ due to his initials, ‘H.T.’ Following the crash, Williams expressed concerns about various operational procedures of Aer Lingus, asserting that he believed it was unsafe to operate a passenger aircraft over the Daventry/Nevin route in adverse weather conditions. He emphasized the challenges faced by pilots in positively identifying the flight’s position under all circumstances, based on the limited resources available.
In his report, Williams insinuated that Captain Keohane and First Officer Newman might have been fatigued during the flight. However, his perspectives were met with severe backlash. A memo from January 10, 1952, penned by Jerry Dempsey, the general manager, detailed a conversation with Williams, emphasizing how Dempsey had reprimanded Williams for his views. In response to Williams’ complaint regarding the use of anti-icing fluid, Dempsey rebuked him for not taking action despite being privy to pilots’ flight reports, insinuating that Williams, by virtue of being on the circulation list, should have addressed the issue with his superiors.
Despite the potential validity of Williams’ concerns – even if they were perceived as misguided – questions lingered about the rationale behind his appointment to a significant role within Aer Lingus if the management had doubts about his judgment. The public inquiry commenced at Holborn Town Hall in London on April 17, 1952, under the leadership of Mr. J. Ronald Adams, QC, supported by assessors Captain HW Caldwell, CB, a BEA pilot, and Mr. E Gold, CB, DSO. The legal representation included Desmond Bell for the Irish Airline Pilots’ Association, Roger Winn, QC, for Aer Lingus, and the Hon SC Silkin, QC, for the victims’ families. The inquiry comprised ten public sessions and nine private ones, calling upon thirty-six witnesses to provide testimony.
Finally, during the court proceedings, eleven questions were posed, including routine inquiries such as the validity of the aircraft’s certificate of airworthiness. The attorney general, licensed to represent the court despite lacking a radio/telephony license (a claim disputed by Aer Lingus), presented the routine answers in favour of the airline. Of significant importance was the court’s response to the question regarding the captain’s decision to fly via Daventry and Nevin, to which they answered affirmatively. When asked about any unsatisfactory aspects of the aircraft’s navigation, the court acknowledged that veering close to the leeward side of Snowdon, instead of over the Irish Sea as believed by the captain, constituted a navigation flaw.
Rough over the hills
‘YOU’LL find it rough over the hills tonight. We were at five. Went up to six five. It seems to be right through.’ Within three minutes of sending this message, Captain James Keohane, along with his crew members First Officer William A Newman and hostess Deirdre Sutton, were dead alongside the twenty passengers, including an off-duty Aer Lingus captain, his wife, and their child. The incident remains as the second deadliest commercial airliner crash in Wales, the first fatal accident involving Aer Lingus, and the second deadliest crash in the history of Aer Lingus.
The enquiry attributed the aircraft’s loss to a strong downdraft of air on Snowdon’s leeward side, leading to turbulent conditions that potentially caused the pilot or pilots to lose control. Notably, the court concluded that no wrongful act or default by any person or party directly caused or contributed to the aircraft’s loss.
Irish experts observing the inquiry were surprised by the oversight of the strong possibility of sudden and severe icing conditions, which they believed could have played a role in the disaster, although this aspect was not extensively addressed during the proceedings.
In the months following the crater leftover from the crash site was filled, and trees were planted in its place. Ironically, on the first anniversary of the tragedy, January 10, 1953, there was no significant mention of the event.
In the Irish Independent’s ‘In Memoriam’ column on the first anniversary of the tragedy, two victims were commemorated. One entry paid tribute to Eveleen Belton, stating, “Belton (first anniversary), in cherished remembrance of Eveleen who departed this life on 10 January 1952, at Caernarvon, Wales.” The other tribute, organized by her former colleagues at Pimm’s department store, honoured the hostess Deirdre Sutton.
- It would take several years before Aer Lingus assigned the flight number EI165. The designation EI-AFL died with the aircraft.
- In 2001, 49 years after the accident, Aer Lingus named one of their aircraft EI-CVD after Saint Kevin once more. The naming of the aircraft was the subject of a belated complaint from IALPA. It flew until 2012, having been sold to Air Lease Corporation in 2010 and leased back for two years before departing the fleet. The aircraft has subsequently left the fleet and is flying for Allegiant air in Las Vegas under N234NV.
