The Pilots BEGGED Them To Land... | The Full Story of Ethiopia 961

- Imagine being a professional pilot

with responsibility
for hundreds of passengers

being told how to fly your aircraft

by desperate, uninformed madmen.

And knowing that if
you do what they ask,

it will kill you and everyone on board.

How would you react?

Stay tuned.

It all started on
a beautiful autumn morning

in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia,

where Ethiopian Airlines
Flight 961 was scheduled

as a short hop over to Nairobi in Kenya,

and then it was scheduled

to continue onwards towards
Brassaville, Lagos and Abidjan.

On November 23rd 1996,
the aircraft scheduled

to operate this route
was a Boeing 767-260ER

with registration Echo
Tango Alpha India Zulu.

And this is a wide-body
twin-engine airliner

which had joined Ethiopian
Airlines back in 1987.

It was powered by two Pratt & Whitney
JT9D turbofan engines

and configured with
18 business class seats

and 174 in economy.

So in total, the aircraft
could carry a maximum

of 192 passengers,
though it wasn't scheduled

to be full on this particular day.

But the fact that this
767 was a long-haul aircraft,

often used for much
longer routes than this,

will come to play an
important part of this story.

Very early in the morning,
the ground crew had been advised

by the dispatcher to fuel the aircraft up

with about three and
a half hours worth of fuel.

That should have been
more than enough

for the first roughly two-hour
long flight over to Nairobi,

that's even when counting
things like potential holding fuel

and a diversion to their alternate airport.

But obviously this was also way less

than the maximum fuel quantity

that the 767 could hold,

which would give it
a range of around 11 hours.

And that's worth keeping in mind.

Anyway, as the boarding started,

the flight had been booked
with 163 passengers,

so if we include the 12 crew members,

the total figure of souls on board

would eventually become 175.

Most of the passengers
were of Ethiopian origin,

but there were also travelers
from 35 different countries,

including tourists,

business class travelers
and foreign nationals working

with NGOs and embassies in the region.

So as always, in modern aviation,

this was a mix of lives,

all brought together by circumstance.

Now the flight crew
that had been scheduled

to fly together on this particular day

was both seasoned professionals.

In command was Captain Leul Abate,

one of the most experienced pilots

in Ethiopian Airlines at the time.

He was 42 years old and
had amassed more than 11,500 hours

of total flying time,

including over 4,000
hours on the Boeing 767

that they were now about to operate.

His first officer,

Yonas Mekuria, was 34 years
old and was also well qualified.

He had slightly more
than 6,000 hours in total,

including nearly 2,500 on the type,

and together, they formed

a skilled and respected cockpit team.

In fact, Captain Leul was considered one

of the airline's top instructors

and had even been training
pilots over in the United States.

The cabin crew consisted
of 10 flight attendants,

most of whom were young,
fluent in multiple languages

and trained in hospitality

and in emergency evacuation procedures.

And they carried out their duties

that morning as they always did,

welcoming passengers,
helping with boarding

and completing the standard
pre-departure safety checks.

The pre-flight preparation

in the crew room
earlier had been standard,

with no particular threats noted,

so the crew had eventually
just walked straight out

to the aircraft and
started preparing it for departure.

And while they were doing that,

the passengers had all gone through

the standard security checks,

where nothing strange or
suspicious had been found.

The pushback from the gate at Bole
International Airport occurred

just before 8 o'clock local time,

and the weather conditions were great,

with only light winds
and a good visibility.

The aircraft taxied out
with the captain at the controls,

and at time 08:09,
the Bole Tower Controller,

cleared Flight 961 for
takeoff from Runway 07R.

The mighty aircraft soon
soared into the sky,

beginning its short southward
journey down towards Nairobi.

Everything was looking great so far.

The pilots were initially cleared

to climb to 35,000 feet,
or flight level 350,

following the standard
international airway,

tracking south over
The Great Rift Valley.

The early part of the flight
was completely uneventful,

with the pilots in the cockpit setting up

their navigational systems,

logging flight times and
doing all of the routine tasks

that we pilots do on every flight.

But that feeling of normality
would very soon change.

15 minutes after takeoff
at time 08:24,

the drink service began in the cabin,

with the passengers settling in,

some dozing off, others reading
or enjoying the view

of the rugged Ethiopian
landscape below them.

But seated in the economy cabin,

were three men who were now
looking around impatiently,

and they had no intention
of ever making it to Nairobi.

At time 08:29, as the aircraft
leveled off at 39,000 feet,

their final cruising level,

these three men, all Ethiopian citizens,

suddenly made their move.

They stood up from their seats
at the rear of the aircraft,

with one of them shouting,

"Everybody should be seated,
I have a bomb!"

And they then quickly moved up

through the business class
cabin towards the cockpit.

These were not trained hijackers.

In fact, it would later turn out
that they had no ties

to any organized militant
group or similar at all.

They were just
three desperate individuals,

which actually makes them

quite unusual hijackers for the time.

They all spoke primarily in French,

even though French is not
widely spoken in Ethiopia,

and it seems like they
had no clear motive either.

Even today, it's not clear if their goal

was to escape political persecution,

starting a new life,

or just to do something huge
and eye-catching

that would make them famous.

And when we're on
the subject of intent,

over the last few weeks,

I have noticed a completely new trend.

I wonder if you've seen it as well.

Several of my friends and contacts

have started sending me what
looks like official documents,

including interim reports
about recent serious accidents.

While these look really
convincing at a first glance,

so convincing actually

that industry professionals
are sharing them,

you don't have to
dig very deep to realize

that they are AI generated,

and you can see that
due to unrealistic dates,

made-up technical information, et cetera.

I don't know the full intent
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Now let's get back to those hijackers.

Anyway, without any visible weapons,

the hijackers had soon made

their way into the front galley,

where they now burst into the cockpit,

which, remember, had no
security barriers at the time,

and it seems like surprise and speed

were their greatest
assets to achieve this.

As soon as they entered the cockpit,

they screamed out
that there were 11 of them,

likely to make the pilots
worry about something

known as sleepers in the cabin.

These are silent
members of a hijacking team

who doesn't make
themselves known at first,

in order to provide help
to the main hijackers

or stop potential
passenger rebellions.

But in this case,
there were no indications

that there were any more hijackers

than just these three
initial ones on board.

Anyway, the first thing they then did

was to beat up first officer Yonas

and then drag him out of the cockpit.

They then quickly grabbed
an on-board fire extinguisher

as well as the crash axe
which is stored in the cockpit,

thereby likely accessing
their first real weapons.

Captain Leul Abate was now
left alone at the controls,

and at this point, his assumption

was that the hijackers
would just tell him where to go,

as that was normally what happened

in hijack situations back then.

The Sudan, Egypt and
the entire Arab Peninsula

was within range
and could safely be flown to,

so that's what the captain expected.

But unfortunately,

that was not what
these hijackers had in mind.

No instead, they now issued a demand

so outrageous that Captain Leul

initially didn't even believe it.

"Fly to Australia," they shouted,

being completely
and terrifyingly serious.

This was obviously complete lunacy.

Like I explained before,

the pilots had requested fuel amounting

to around three and a half hours

for their flight over to Nairobi,

which was entirely appropriate
for such a short route,

but nowhere near sufficient

to cross thousands of miles of ocean.

So knowing this, Captain
Leul now tried his best

to stay calm and began to try

to educate the hijackers on the difference

between the aircraft's maximum
range and its actual range,

based on the amount of fuel loaded.

He even showed them
the fuel quantity indicators,

and hoped that this
would make sense to them,

but the hijackers were obviously
convinced that he was lying.

As proof, one of them
triumphantly pulled out a copy

of Ethiopian Airlines' inflight magazine,

which listed the 767's maximum
range as well over 11 hours.

And based on that, they insisted

that this proved that
the plane could make it.

The hijackers exclaimed
that they would blow up

the plane if Leul didn't comply,

and then showed him a device
that they claimed was a bomb,

but appeared to be just a large glove.

So Captain Leul seriously doubted

that the hijackers actually had a bomb,

but he also knew that they
were ready to resort to violence,

since they had already
beat up his first officer.

Now, they also had a
fire axe and a fire extinguisher

which they could use to bludgeon people,

so the threat of violence
was now very, very real.

On top of that, it was
also obvious that he was dealing

with potentially deranged individuals,

and if they decided to also take him out,

well then there would be
no one left to fly the plane.

So instead of antagonizing them,

Captain Leul now elected to just try

and keep them talking,

buying himself and the
crew some more time.

This was a decision
based on his own experience,

as, incredibly, this was not the first time

that he had been hijacked.

It was actually the third time.

He had previously been forced to fly to Sudan,

and in another hijacking to Kenya,

so I guess this was as routine to him

as something like this could ever be.

Now in both of those cases,

complying with the hijackers

and taking them where they were demanded,

had ended with the plane landing safely,

an experience that definitely formed
Captain Leul's perspective

that the best way to deal with hijackers

was to calmly accept their demands.

So he now contacted air traffic control

and told them that the aircraft
would be deviating,

and he then added that
the plane had been hijacked

and that he had been
demanded to fly to Australia.

Now at that time, the plane's
transponder was set to 2000,

and according to the report,
that never changed,

but generally speaking
hijackings forms part

of the three different situations

when a specific emergency code

should be entered into the transponder

to automatically alert air traffic control

about what is going on.

Those codes include 7700
for a general emergency,

7600 for a loss of communication,
and 7500 for hijacking.

But by now telling
air traffic control outright,

he likely achieved that same goal.

In any case, Captain Leul

was now faced with
an impossible choice.

If he complied with
the hijackers' demands,

they would definitely run out of fuel

in the middle of the Indian Ocean.

And since he was alone
against these three assailants,

fighting back could
pose another deadly risk

for everyone on board.

So he now had to come up

with some way of turning
the aircraft out over the ocean

to convince the anxious hijackers

that he was doing as he was told,

while still staying in range of land

and some type of alternates.

Luckily it seemed like
the hijackers were not familiar

with the cockpit
and its navigational display,

so it was likely that the only way

that they could determine

if he was going towards Australia or not

was if they could see water
out through the cockpit windows.

So that led Captain
Leul to a fateful decision,

one that would eventually mean

the difference between life and death

for some of the people on board.

He now began a
gradual turn towards the south,

still following the coast, flying southeast,

while still also maintaining

the appearance of
complying with their demands.

As this was happening,
two of the hijackers returned out

to the passenger cabin,

leaving their leader seated
in the first officer's chair.

The ones who had left
then commanded a flight attendant

to show them how the PA system worked,

followed by them making
announcements in both English,

French and Amharic,
telling the passengers

that they had control of the plane

and would be demanding a landing.

But they never told the passengers

that the place where they wanted

to land happened to be Australia.

Back in the cockpit,

the lead hijacker
now ordered Captain Leul

to contact the
Ethiopian Airlines sales office

in Australia using a phone number

that he had found
listed in the timetable.

And when the captain responded

that there was no phone on board,

this really angered the hijacker,

who threatened to beat him
up if he continued lying.

Captain Leul eventually
managed to convince him

that he should
instead relay any message

to Australia via air traffic control,

and the hijacker agreed,

which allowed Captain Leul

to now call up Nairobi Centre.

This control centre had luckily

already been alerted about the hijacking

by the controllers in Ethiopia,

which is otherwise where
that transponder code

would have come in handy,

as everyone in the aviation knows

what the code 7500 means.

But anyway, the captain
now calmly called up,

identifying the flight and asked

for help to relay a message

over to that number in Australia,

and he also now announced
that they would be flying

to Australia by a
point called Oscar Victor,

which must have really puzzled

the controller on the other end.

He now responded
by asking for confirmation

of that number that they wanted to call,

which Captain Leul repeated,

and the captain then also
added an important detail.

They were now cruising at 39,000 feet,

but had only two hours of fuel left,

which was obviously not
nearly enough to reach Australia.

When subsequently asked
by the controller

to confirm whether
he really intended to go there,

Captain Leul admitted the obvious.

It wasn't possible,
they didn't have the fuel,

so if things didn't change,

they would have to ditch in the ocean.

Captain Leul then also made a decision

to switch on the cockpit speaker

so that the hijacker could
hear this conversation,

thinking that that might perhaps

bring them to their senses.

So he then called
the controller back again,

saying, "Okay, I
just wanted our hijackers

to hear what you're communicating,

and if you have anything to say,
go ahead and tell them."

The controller now aware
of his new audience said

as plainly as he possibly could,

"Okay, I'm advising you
that with two hours of fuel,

you will be unable
to reach your destination,

and probably you will have
to land on the water.

The best solution is for
you to land in Mombasa.

Go ahead."

But in the cockpit, this little gambit

unfortunately hadn't worked.

In fact, it just
angered the hijacker further,

so Captain Leul now told Nairobi,

"Okay, they say they don't want to talk.

They are not willing
to negotiate on any terms."

And to that,
the controller just responded,

"Roger, Roger, Ethiopian 961,

Check Australia is more than six hours flight,

and you have only two hours fuel.

You will most probably
ditch in the ocean.

Why don't you land in Mombasa
and pick up some more fuel?"

But there was nothing really
that the captain could do here.

He just responded,

"There is no alternate other
than Australia, no alternate."

The controller now realizing
there was nothing more

that he could do, simply replied,

advise us when you expect
to reach Australia, ETA Australia."

And then perhaps in
a moment of frustration

or in a futile attempt to get through

to the criminal standing behind the captain,

the controller also added,
"Confirm they are ready

to land in the ocean and drown?"

Now, rather than bringing
the hijackers to their senses here,

this last sentence just
acted as the last straw,

and the lead hijacker decided

that he had now had enough.

He violently ripped
off Leul's sunglasses

and headset, finally ending
Flight 961's communication

with air traffic control.

Nairobi's center would keep trying

to contact Ethiopia 961,

but they would never
hear from the flight again.

Back in the cockpit, the
hijacker had now grown frustrated

with the captain's attempts
to resolve the situation,

and once again he just ordered
him to turn out to sea.

Now, we pilots are trained
to constantly use our training

to evaluate and re-evaluate

any situation we find ourselves in,

and that means basically put our feelings

and emotions to the side
and just act according

to what facts training and
experience tells us to do.

In order to do that,

we often follow decision-making models

like FORDEC or PIOSEE,

which helps us to structure
our decision-making

and clearly identify the problem,
gather information,

choose and execute the
best option and then evaluate.

But that's, of course,
impossible when dealing

with a commanding force
who isn't backed up

by any knowledge, reason
or common sense, only violence.

These hijackers had chosen
to operate from a place of fear

and never from a place of facts.

And in a situation like that,
even the most professional pilots

would not be able to
make much of a difference, really.

But that didn't stop
Captain Leul from trying.

Now before we go on,

let me just stop here for
a second to point something out.

Even though this is a horrible example

of a crime being committed,

I cannot keep myself
from seeing parallels

to the world we live in today,

where far too many of us
make important decisions

based on rumors, trends

or conspiracy theories
instead of facts.

Actually, this cockpit is
almost a perfect reflection

of where the scientific
community finds itself today,

being told what to do
by politicians with no background

in science or knowledge of their field.

As pilots, we live and die
based on the rules of physics,

decades of experience

and correct application
of leadership and procedures,

so we operate in a world

where it's still all
about doing what is right,

not just follow who is speaking.

And I think that's one of the reasons

why I love this industry so much.

Anyway, Flight 961 had now flown past

its original destination and
was still heading south.

When they passed abeam
Dar es Salaam in Tanzania,

the hijackers asked the captain

to again try and contact Australia,

which gave him a rare chance
to contact his company frequency

and advise them about their position,

heading and fuel endurance.

That was information
that could be critical

for determining their final crash site

if it would come to that.

But when the hijackers realized

that this was what the
captain was now doing,

he again snapped the
captain's headset off

and ordered him to start

flying away from the coastline,

out towards the vast blue
void of the Indian Ocean

and an almost certain death.

Captain Leul did as he was told.

He didn't really have a choice at this point,

but he didn't point the nose
just randomly out to sea.

Instead, he started heading southeast

towards the tiny
island nation of Comoros.

He had personally never
heard of this country before,

but he found the island chain in
a map that he had with him.

And crucially, the Comoros
capital city of Moroni

is home to Prince Said Ibrahim
International Airport,

which has a single 2,900
meter long runway, more than

long enough to land the Boeing 767.

And that could possibly be

the captain's last chance

to perform a controlled
landing somewhere.

But for now, the flight just continued,

slowly depleting its
last hours of fuel.

From about three hours into the flight,

we have the transcript from
the cockpit voice recorder,

who back then only saved
the last 30 minutes of flight.

The recording starts by
capturing a truly chaotic scene,

with hijackers who had,
by now stolen a couple

of bottles of whiskey
from the forward galley

all sounding drunk, and
with the lead hijacker

still in the first officer's chair

and another one standing
in the cockpit with them.

The third was still out in the cabin,

on guard for attempts
by the passengers

to try to retake the cockpit.

Captain Leul now
asked the lead hijacker

if he could at least be allowed

to tell the passengers
about what was going on,

but the answer from the hijacker

was short and concise, "No."

At this point, with
less than 30 minutes left

of fuel on board,

Captain Leul knew
that they were unlikely

to be able to land safely,

and he had therefore decided
that the next best option

would be to prepare his passengers

for a landing in the sea,
known as a ditching.

Under normal circumstances,

preparation for that would have been done

with the help of his cabin crew,

who would go through

what's known as time-
available emergency drills,

explaining brace positions,

emergency exits and positions of rafts,

as well as assigning buddy systems

for children or passengers
with special needs.

But now, none of that was being done.

He therefore calmly
warned the hijackers

that the situation was starting

to become out of his control,

and when it did, the plane
was likely going to crash.

One of the hijackers, angered by this,

asked if he wanted to die,

but to that, the captain
just calmly replied

that death was inevitable at this point.

The hijacker then implied

that they had made a promise

to take the situation
as far as it could go,

and now there was no turning back.

A chilling admission of their cause

now possibly turning
into a suicide mission.

A few minutes later,
the hijackers also decided

to remind Captain Leul
of the threat they posed

when the lead hijacker
looked at him and said,

"Don't worry, the axe is with me."

And he then, bizarrely,
attempted to lighten the mood

by offering Captain Leul
a drink of the whiskey they had,

calling it a bribe to calm his nerves.

When Captain Leul refused,
saying that there wasn't time

and asking to be left alone,

the hijacker just insisted
on getting him to drink.

But at that moment, the
low fuel pressure warning activated,

with its chilling chime
repeatedly now filling the cockpit,

telling anyone with
knowledge that the pumps

now had no more fuel to pump.

Seconds later, the inevitable happened,

as the right engine exhausted
its last few drops of fuel

and then just flamed out.

Now, a Boeing 767 at 39,000 feet

cannot maintain that altitude
with only one remaining engine.

It would either start
losing speed until it stalls,

or start descending down

towards an altitude

that can be maintained
with only one engine,

something known as a single-
engine service ceiling,

which is typically around 25,000 feet.

Captain Leul, of course, knew this,

and therefore, soon initiated the descent,

but the hijackers,
who had previously told them

to not go below 39,000 feet
under any circumstance,

now would not accept this reality.

Drunk, incoherent,

and with a childish
understanding of flight,

the lead hijacker
instead began to panic,

thinking that the captain
was now disobeying him.

He pointed to the altimeter
and exclaimed, "It is less!"

Captain Leul asked,
"What is less?"

And the hijacker exclaimed,
"The altitude!"

Trying to bring some
sense to the situation,

Captain Leul explained
that it will descend by itself,

"I am not making it descend."

He then pointed to the engine flame out

and master caution warnings,

and he told them,
"As the engine stops, it descends.

Whether you like it
or not, it is descending."

But the hijacker only
responded by saying,

"Well, we will see about that."

By now it was clear
that the situation was unraveling,

and the captain was
losing his tenuous grip.

The plane was now
almost completely out of fuel

with one of its engines already flamed out,

so the hijackers, now perhaps realizing

the gravity of what was happening,

briefly stepped out
of the cockpit to confer

amongst themselves about what to do.

Seizing this rare moment,

Captain Leul made
a final desperate announcement

to the passengers
with his voice broadcasting

over the cabin PA,

"Ladies and gentlemen,
this is your pilot.

We have run out of fuel,

and we are losing
one engine at this time.

We are expecting a crash landing,

and that is all I have to say.

We have already lost one engine,

and I ask all passengers
to react to the hijackers.

Thank you."

This was an extraordinary
act of courage.

By encouraging the passengers
to resist the hijackers,

Captain Leul was now
knowingly putting himself

at greater personal risk,

but it had become clear that unless

the hijackers could be subdued,

he wouldn't be permitted
to make an emergency landing,

so this was really
all that he could do.

But tragically, his call to action

didn't have the desired effect.

A few brave passengers
actually started urging others

to help them in rising up
and taking control back,

but their efforts were met

with a lot of hesitation and fear.

Some passengers worried

that any attempt
to overpower the hijackers

might provoke them
into detonating a bomb,

or even crashing the plane.

At this point, a lot of passengers
still clung to the belief

that they would still land safely.

There had even been some discussions

among the passengers about
opening the emergency exits

as soon as the plane touched down,

and they continued
to believe in that plan,

unaware that a water landing
at sea was now almost certain.

But there was also another problem.

The captain's announcement
had only been made in English,

and with passengers

from more than 30 different
countries on board,

it is likely that many just
simply didn't understand it.

So the moment passed,

the uprising fizzled
before it could even begin,

and the hijackers soon
stormed back into the cockpit,

striking the microphone
from the captain's hand.

In the cockpit of
this descending Boeing 767,

the tension had now
reached a breaking point.

The aircraft had
already lost one engine,

and now another repetitive
beeping could be heard,

a warning that the fuel pressure

was now also dropping
in the second engine,

and the captain knew
what would come next.

But the hijackers
still remained in denial,

clinging to their fantasy
about reaching Australia.

It is descending, the
lead hijacker pointed out again,

as though it was due
to some external phenomenon.

He then grasped for the controls,

suddenly pulling on
the yoke hard enough

to disconnect the autopilot,

and he soon also
reached for the thrust levers

and began pulling on the reversers,

which luckily couldn't be activated

since they were still clearly airborne.

Behind the cockpit, the
cockpit voice recorder captured

the cabin crew doing their best

to try and maintain
some semblance of order.

A flight attendant's voice
came over the PA,

"ladies and gentlemen,

please sit down and
fasten your seat belts.

Don't panic.
Please fasten your seat belts."

But inside the cockpit,

things were now getting
completely out of control.

The hijacker in the right seat
was still making crazy inputs

on the controls, in the same way a child

could be expected to behave,

and without the autopilot,
the 767 now pitched

and rolled erratically, climbing,

diving and banking hard to
the right and then to the left.

Information from the flight
data recorder later showed

that the aircraft moved rapidly

from pitch angles of 3.3 degrees nose up

to 8.3 degrees nose down,

and bank angles as high
as 47 degrees right

and 35 degrees left,

something that must have been

truly terrifying for everyone on board.

Now as the hijacker
pulled the nose back,

the plane began to climb briefly,

but without sufficient engine power,

it soon lost its airspeed and therefore,

began descending again.

So even though the hijacker
at the controls was determined

to get the aircraft back up
to 39,000 feet again,

it soon turned out that the
laws of physics were stronger.

"Let us land on the water,"
Captain Leul now pleaded,

with the plane descending and the island

of Grande Comore now in view.

He was determined to try
and salvage whatever he could.

Moroni's airport, Prince
Said Ibrahim International,

was positioned directly ahead of them,

so even before the hijacker had started

to interfere with the controls,

he had already started circling
to the south of the island,

trying desperately to keep
that airport available

as a last landing alternative.

By this point, the fuel gauges
were all reading zero,

and Captain Leul was trying

to keep the aircraft as stable as possible

to maintain the airport in sight,

just in case he could
get the plane down there.

But at the same time,
the hijacker was still interfering

with the controls, refusing to accept

what was about to happen.

So the captain now
tried one final appeal to reason,

hoping to buy himself enough time

to guide the plane down
towards the coast of Grande Comore.

At least let me land
on the water, he pleaded.

"Why? Get out of here!"

The hijacker snapped, once
again grabbing at the controls.

He yanked back on the yoke,

trying to force the aircraft to climb,

trading the last of their
speed for altitude.

"Let it descend by itself.

Don't touch it," the hijacker instructed.

And as he was saying that,

Grand Comore came back into the view,

prompting a new burst of
suspicion from the hijacker.

Captain Leul tried to reassure him,

but the hijacker demanded

to know what country that was,

pointing towards the island below.

So the captain now
bluffed a little bit.

"Look, I don't know,
it's not on the chart," he said.

And he then asked one final
time if they could please try

and land on the solid ground

as the plane descended
through about 21,000 feet,

but the reply came
as definitive as always, "No way!"

That prompted the captain
to point at the empty fuel gauges,

and almost exactly at that moment,

a cockpit chime rang out again,

this time warning that the
second engine was now failing.

Captain Leul called out,

"There you are, the
second engine is also out.

You wanted that, didn't you?"

And the hijacker's grim reply
came back almost immediately,

"Yes!"

In the background, a slow
steady chime continued to sound.

Beep, beep, beep.

Like a cardiac monitor
in a hospital room,

the aircraft itself was now confirming

what Captain Leul already knew.

Time had finally run out.

This aircraft was only going
to continue down from here.

"For the sake of my responsibility,

at least let the passengers
know about the condition,"

Captain Leul added,
continuing to be laser-focused

on the passengers' well-being behind him.

By this point, the lead hijacker

had seemingly accepted the truth.

There would be no landing in Australia

or anywhere else for that matter,

so his voice now grew colder.

"Descend it, increase the speed further,"

he ordered,

apparently intent on taking
everyone down with him.

Seconds later, with the last
engine windmilling to a stop,

the Boeing 767 also lost all
of its electrical power,

meaning that the flight data recorder

and cockpit voice
recorder also seized recording.

Beneath the fuselage,

the ram air turbine
deployed automatically,

spinning in the slipstream

to power only a few
critical flight instruments

and hydraulic systems.

And at this point, it
is believed that the airport

in Moroni was still technically

within gliding range,

but with the hijackers
actively preventing a landing,

Captain Leul had very
limited chances of reaching it.

He was now left with
only two desperate options,

either wrestle control
of the aircraft back

and attempt a high-stake
approach into Moroni

or ditch the powerless plane
into the Indian Ocean,

with the hijackers still at his back.

As the plane dropped
through about 15,000 feet,

chaos erupted in the passenger cabin

as some passengers started realizing

that the aircraft was now descending

down towards the sea below them.

They now began pulling out life vests

and some of them also inflated them

while still seated in the cabin.

Flight attendants and passengers
shouted at them to stop,

warning that a fully inflated
vest inside the cabin

would prevent them
from escaping after impact,

but those warnings were largely ignored.

First officer Yonas,

having recovered from
his earlier beating,

now walked back through the cabin,

telling people not to
inflate their life vests

and even helping the cabin crew
to deflate the ones who had,

while simultaneously instructing

the passengers on how
to re-inflate them later.

The same message was then
repeated by the cabin crew

and concerned passengers,

but many on board
simply didn't understand,

again because these warnings
were only called out in English.

But even if that
wouldn't have been the case,

panic had now taken hold

and the cabin was soon
full of inflated life vests,

confusion and fear.

Captain Leul could hear that behind him

as he fought to turn the aircraft around

to try and align it with the runway at Moroni,

and finally his luck turned slightly,

when help arrived in the
former First Officer Yonas,

who now pushed his way into the cockpit,

defying the hijackers.

Let me help the captain,

he shouted and together
the two pilots

now started fighting both the
hijackers and the jet itself.

You see, with the autopilot dead

and control forces heavy due

to limited hydraulic power,

flying the plane was
now physically exhausting.

And with the hijackers still lunging

for the controls,
grabbing at the yokes,

trying to stop the pilots
from reaching land,

this fight must have
been truly monumental.

But even though that was the case,

Leul and Yonas finally managed

to get the 767 somewhat stabilized,

and as they did,
they realized that Moroni's airport

was now no longer visible.

It is possible that at the time

that they had managed
to wrestle back the controls,

the airport was simply out of reach.

So the two pilots now instead
focused on what they could do,

tried to save as many lives as possible

by attempting a controlled ditching.

So they now initiated a turn
of the enormous Boeing 767

to try and parallel the shoreline.

Now there are established procedures

for how to do a ditching.

There are even checklists

for it in a quick reference handbook,

but that procedure is
created for a powered ditching,

meaning with both engines available,

and it also assumes
that all instruments are working.

These two pilots were
now going to attempt doing

the same with no engine power,

and with only their standby
instruments working,

which didn't include an IVSI
showing the descent rate,

so they would have to eyeball it.

At just 150 feet above the waves,

the hijackers finally gave up,

stepping back from the controls,

perhaps realizing too late

that they had now
doomed themselves.

In the rear of the cabin,
a few passengers

were now trying to
organize a last ditch resistance,

but there was now
nothing more to be done.

The flight was only
seconds away from impact.

Coming in fast and low over
the waters next to Grande Comore,

Ethiopian Airlines flight 961

now descended towards the coast

at an airspeed of roughly 200 knots.

With no engine power,
not much instrumentation

and very little control authority,

Captain Leul and First Officer Yonas

were now flying entirely by feel,

gliding their 767-200ER
towards one last desperate hope,

a controlled ditching just off the beach

near the town of Mitsamiouli.

Ahead lay Galawa Beach,
a stretch of white sand

once considered the crown
jewel of Comorrean tourism.

An inland from that beach
was the only major tourist resort

in the entire country,
the La Galawa Hotel.

This was a popular retreat

for mainly South African travelers,

and it was now a sunny afternoon,

with loads of people
packed on the beach.

Among those was a
couple from South Africa

with a camcorder,
and they soon spotted

a low-flying plane
approaching the shoreline,

assuming that it was part
of some sort of airshow.

So they began to film, and that footage

would become one of
the most dramatic recordings

of a crash landing ever captured.

As the 767 skimmed over the surf,

Captain Leul made a slight left turn,

trying to align with the waves

and thereby minimizing
the forces on impact.

But despite his skill,

things now didn't go according to plan.

Just before he could
bring the wings back to level,

the left wingtip struck the water,

and that one contact was enough.

The wingtip dug in, pulling
the rest of the airframe down,

the left engine's massive cowling

then scooped into the sea,

decelerating and turning
the aircraft with a violent jolt.

The plane then pivoted
around the snagged engine,

and the right wing soared
upward like a massive sail

as the fuselage whipped
around in a dramatic cartwheel.

To stunned beachgoers,
the splash alone was colossal,

a wall of sea spray fragments of fuselage

and glinting debris rising
hundreds of feet into the air.

Almost immediately,
the fuselage broke apart

as it also struck a shallow underwater reef

as part of the impact.

The nose sheared off,
the center fuselage ruptured

and the tail was then torn away,

and the cabin continued
to tumble through the sea

until it finally came to rest

roughly 500 meters away from shore.

And unfortunately,
that impact killed several

of the passengers on board,

and that included all three hijackers

who had been standing
in the rear of the cockpit

and in the galley as the aircraft hit.

Survivors described the chaos

that then followed as pure horror.

Some passengers had been
ejected from the wreckage

and landed in the surf where they

were then able to swim or float to safety,

and others were trapped inside

of the disintegrating
upside down fuselage,

rapidly filling with seawater.

Now the waters were shallow enough

for part of the overturned fuselage

to remain above the surface,

but some passengers

were still trapped by their
upside down seats underwater.

And one factor that made
survival even harder for some

was the fact that moments
before ditching,

despite the warnings from the cabin crew,

many passengers had
still inflated their life vests.

And now, floating in
the upside down wreckage,

those inflated vests
pinned them to the roof,

making it almost impossible

to swim downwards towards the exits.

Some managed to deflate

their vests or pull them off,
but many didn't.

Now the official
investigation made it clear

that traumatic injuries were
the primary cause of death

in the majority of victims in this crash,

but it's still widely accepted
that the inflated vests

also contributed to a significant number

of preventable fatalities.

But against all odds,
some passengers did survive,

and their survival
was due, in no small part,

to what happened next.

The crash had, like I mentioned,
taken place just offshore

from the nation's largest resort,

and that meant that
help was unusually close by.

Dozens of people now rushed
to the water, some swimming,

others grabbing small boats
or paddle boards to help.

Among them were scuba instructors

from a local dive school,

and a group of visiting French doctors.

And these impromptu first responders

were in the water within moments,

pulling dazed and injured
passengers away to safety.

The local airport had also been advised

about the hijacked jet,

and had therefore put their
rescue team on high alert.

So as soon as reports started coming in

about a plane crash nearby,

they dispatched and could support

the rescue efforts about 30 minutes

after the crash had occurred.

But even with that in mind,

in the end the death toll
was truly heartbreaking.

Of the 175 people on board,
only 50 had survived,

including First Officer Yonas
and Captain Leul,

who Yonas heroically had
pulled from the wreckage.

But that still meant that
125 people had been killed,

including all of the
three unbelted hijackers

and seven of the crew.

Now, what happened on board
Ethiopian Airlines Flight 961

is, in many ways, unimaginable today.

The hardened cockpit door
introduced after 9/11

would now prevent any intruder

from storming the flight deck,

and the mindset among
passengers has also changed.

No one sits back and waits anymore,

so hijacking a plane
with an axe and a fake bomb

is no longer a viable plan.

But that doesn't make
this story any less extraordinary.

It remains one of the most
harrowing and heroic episodes

in modern aviation history,

Captain Leul Abata faced
a situation with no good options,

no real hope and no clear way out,

and still he never gave up,

which is a real testament
of courage and dedication.

There were also quite
a few important lessons

to take away from all of this.

The cockpit voice recorder

and the flight data
recorder lost power

just when it mattered the most,

reminding us why accident
investigators continue to push

for backup power supplies

and longer recording
times on existing recorders.

Today, most airliners
are therefore being fitted

with special batteries that can power

the recorders for a limited time

in case of a complete power loss,

which might prove really important.

This also highlighted
how important it is

to never inflate your life vest
whilst inside of the cabin,

and that's the reason
this instruction forms part

of every single safety briefing today.

Again, an example of where
a procedure is written in blood.

And then, of course, there
are the more behavioral lessons.

Captain Leul's strategy of
keeping the hijackers talking

and appearing to cooperate
while subtly maneuvering

the aircraft towards a survivable outcome

offers a textbook example

of crisis de-escalation under duress.

Sometimes stalling is the
only lifeline you have,

and when you're dealing
with irrational demands

and real danger,
small strategic concessions

can sometimes buy you precious minutes,

minutes that in this case meant

the difference between
everyone dying in the cold sea

and 50 people walking away.

Thank you so much
for watching this episode,

and I hope that we've
earned a subscription and a like.

Now, if you want to see
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well then scan this QR code or go

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My name is Petter Hörnfeldt,

and you're watching Mentour Pilot.

Have an absolutely fantastic day,

and we'll see you next time.

Bye-bye.