Real Survival Stories - Whiteout: Crash Landing in Greenland

Episode Date: December 19, 2024

A private plane hits a blizzard somewhere near the Arctic Circle. With their instruments down and visibility gone, Viv Bird and her two friends crash land onto a glacier. No one knows they’re alive, and they don’t know where they are. Marooned in the ruins of their plane, the three companions must battle horrendous conditions - hoping their sense of humour will be just enough to keep them alive… A Noiser production, written by Nicole Edmunds. For ad-free listening, bonus material and early access to new episodes, join Noiser+. Click the Noiser+ banner to get started. Or, if you’re on Spotify or Android, go to noiser.com/subscriptions If you have an amazing survival story of your own that you’d like to put forward for the show, let us know. Drop us an email at [e-mail] Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

TD Direct Investing offers live support, so whether you're a newbie or a seasoned pro, you can make your investing steps count. And if you're like me and think a TFSA stands for Total Fund Savings Adventure, maybe reach out to TD Direct Investing. It's Tuesday, October the 8th, 1991. Thousands of feet above the Labrador Sea, near where the North Atlantic meets the Arctic Ocean, a blizzard is howling. Thick, white clouds stretch across the sky, pulled in all directions by savage winds. Snow is falling in a constant flurry. There's no telling which way is up or down, left or right. No distinction between the sky and the ground.

Battling through this icy tempest is a modest 20-seat private plane. On board are three individuals, two male pilots and 36-year-old Viv Bird. You couldn't see out of the window. You know, it was pure white. So I had no idea. Had no idea where we were at all at that point. Viv is in the plane's cabin, trying to tie down the loose objects

that are being thrown around in the turbulence. But it's a futile fight. She can barely stand herself. Then, all of a sudden, there's the unmistakable whine of the engine changing pitch. Years of flying experience have taught Viv that this means the plane's coming into land. But they're going too fast. They're traveling at well over 200 miles an hour. If they hit the ground at this speed, the plane won't survive the impact, and nor, surely, will the souls on board.

The engine's screech grows louder. The aircraft jolts and judders, tossed around in the storm as it careens towards the earth. Viv wraps her arms around the chair in front, bracing for impact. I was flung around. I was hanging on for grim death. And what I heard was this ding, ding, ding, ding, and that's the propellers hitting the ground, because obviously we didn't have the gear down.

Seconds later, they slam into something solid and skid to a halt. Viv is thrown from her seat to the back of the cabin. She takes a moment to check herself. Somehow, she seems to be unharmed. But when she sits up, she notices smoke swirling from the front of the plane. It seems the whole aircraft may be about to burst into flames. Viv stumbles towards the main door and tries to wrench it open, but it's stuck. As she wrestles with the handle, one of the pilots, Dave, appears from the cockpit. He's shell-shocked and blood-spattered. Wide-eyed, Viv turns to him, and it quickly becomes apparent that the rising smoke is the least of their worries.

So and then I read the fatal words I said are we on the runway Dave and it was an expletive no so I said where are we and he said I don't know. Never wondered what you would do when disaster strikes? If your life depended on your next decision, could you make the right choice? Welcome to Real Survival Stories. These are the astonishing tales of ordinary people thrown into extraordinary situations. People suddenly forced to fight for their lives. In this episode, we meet British aviator Viv Bird. In 1991, Viv and two of her colleagues travel to Missouri to charter a private plane.

But on their journey back to the UK, they fly into a dangerous blizzard near the Arctic Circle. Instruments down and visibility gone, they're forced to crash land onto a glacier with no idea where they are. You think we're in a glacial region and there's no coverage, you know, no nothing. It was literally in the middle of nowhere. Isolated and disoriented in the ruins of their plane, the three pilots will battle horrendous Arctic conditions, hoping the strength of their friendship will be just enough to keep them alive. I'm John Hopkins.

From the Noisa Network, this is Real Survival Stories. It's October the 5th, 1991. A Virgin Atlantic plane touches down on the tarmac in Springfield, Missouri. Among the throng of people who clamber out are 36-year-old Viv Bird and her friends Dave and Mark. The three of them hurry through the crowd in a rush to reach their destination. They're in Missouri to collect a private plane. It's their job to fly it back to South End on England's southeast coast, where a buyer awaits. For Dave and Mark, both experienced pilots, this trip is part business, part pleasure.

On the flight home, they'll soar above beautiful scenery, unchecked by commercial regulations, and make a bit of money while doing so. For Viv, though, it means a little bit more. When Dave first told her about the job, she jumped at the chance. I'd got my pilot's license and he said, I'm going over to America to pick up an aircraft, do you want to come? I said, oh yeah, you know, exciting, you can have a fly because it's a private, you know, I mean I wouldn't do anything complex but I could actually fly, you know.

It was really exciting, what an adventure. I've always been fairly adventurous. My early childhood was spent in Nigeria. My father was working there. And to a certain extent, my sister and I were slightly feral. You know, we could sort of run wild and have a great time. The thirst for excitement meant it was no real surprise when, aged 20 and not sure what direction her life was going,

Viv agreed to take a job with private airline British Air Ferries. As a member of the cabin crew, Viv's job wasn't necessarily glamorous, but it was fun. She spent her days traveling on tiny aircraft, meeting an array of fascinating individuals, all while globetrotting between some of the most exotic and dramatic places on Earth. The charters we used to get were in war zones and we were out in Zimbabwe when the war was on and I was lucky enough, I went on the Dakar Rally, slept on an aircraft for a month and I think flying then was no less safe, but it was less regulated. So you could enjoy the process more.

You could have fun. The chaps who were pilots at the time had been wartime air crew. So one of our chaps was a Lancaster bomber captain on his 21st birthday during the war. So to be with people like that, I think it broadens your education, your living. While the work was enjoyable, it wasn't always easy. As one of the only women on board, Viv had to quickly learn how to survive in a male-dominated environment. I worked always with men and you were, if you wanted to be respected, you had to do the job. And I find you can't be a woman in man's world and then burst into tears

if it goes wrong. And I think I found that with flying, you know, we were a team and you had to step up to the plate if anything went wrong. The years at British Air Ferries passed happily for Viv, as she made friends and memories in every corner of the globe. But she was restless. She wanted more. She worked hard to obtain her own pilot's license, and when her friend Dave told her about his plans to charter a plane from Missouri back to Abai in South End, Viv couldn't say

no. It was a chance for further adventure and to get more piloting experience under her belt. Nothing complex, but I think I could have hopped into one of the seats and then just flown to keep it straight and level. So it'd be like instrument flying, so making sure everything, you know, you're not plummeting down or they'd obviously be listening to what they had to do, and if you had to descend to a certain level, I could do that. So it was just practicing, really, nothing more complicated than that.

After touching down in Missouri, the three pilots make their way through Springfield Airport to where a friend of Dave's is waiting with the aircraft. When they set eyes on it, it's impossible not to notice the stark contrast to the plush Virgin Atlantic commercial plane they stepped off moments ago. It's an Embraer EMB-110 aircraft. It has two small propellers attached to its wings and a long pointed nose, which looks even longer in comparison to its short body, where there's room for just 20 passengers. Due to its modest size, its fuel capabilities are low.

It's like a car. You've only got so much range on the fuel tank. So something like 747, massive fuel tank, it can fly directly across the Atlantic. We couldn't. We could only go so many hundreds of miles before you have to refuel. They'll have to take what's known as the Northern Route. This involves making various stops along the way, travelling north from Missouri to Quebec in Canada, north again to Goose Bay, before hopping across the Labrador Sea to Greenland. Next, it's via Scandinavia and Scotland. Finally, they'll land in Southend.

The entire journey should take a few days, depending on the weather. Viv, Mark and Dave are anxious to get going, to be up in the clouds, flying through the still atmosphere as the Earth curves below. Unfortunately, they're going to be stuck in the heat of Missouri a little longer. Paperwork takes time, especially when 2,000 miles of ocean and a six-hour time difference exists between buyer and seller. After two long days, the paperwork is all signed and they're finally ready to fly. Well, the three pilots are ready. The same isn't quite true of the plane.

The aircraft was needed for a charter. It wasn't ready. We were in Springfield for two days and there was this panic setting in of the aircraft, we've got to get it back, it's money, it's this, that and the other. And we took off without safety survival gear. We had no Arctic gear.

You know, it's pointless to say we were prepared because we weren't. It's time to get going. They don't want to keep the buyer waiting too long. The forecast is good, the route's been mapped. All that's left to do is to soar through the clouds, admiring some of the world's most beautiful scenery as they go. As they cross from Springfield to Quebec, Viv leans happily against the plane's windows,

snapping pictures of the landscape below. They pass carpets of lush green forest, rocky mountain ranges, and barren plains that stretch into eternity. The further north they travel, the more white the landscape becomes, with snow-flecked mountains and frozen lakes that sparkle in the sun. On Tuesday, October 8, Viv, Dave, and Mark land in Goose Bay on the eastern coast of Canada. They have a few hours to kill while the plane is refueled, so Viv and Dave wander downtown to a bank to exchange some cash.

It's at this moment that a strange, uncharacteristic sense of foreboding washes over Viv. I was very restless. I can remember going with Dave to the bank and I said, you know, I do trust you with my life. And he went, yeah, I know, I know. And it was a weird thing for me to say. And it was weird that he did sell for God's sake, you know, sort of pull yourself together. And I don't know. I just wasn't comfortable, but I didn't know why. Viv's anxiety isn't entirely unfounded. The next leg of their journey, from Goose Bay to Greenland, is notoriously challenging. They're heading to the settlement of Narseswag,

where they're scheduled to refuel, and to get there, they'll have to cross the Labrador Sea. Weather conditions above this body of water are famously unpredictable, especially in the autumn and winter months due to the different currents that swirl through its icy waters. When the Arctic swells meet the warmer Gulf Stream, the contrast in temperatures wreaks havoc on the weather. Conditions can change in the blink of an eye. But despite its dangers, there's no way of avoiding it.

And besides, if the pilots' years at British air ferries have taught them anything, it's how to deal with and even embrace unorthodox situations. So, once the money has been exchanged and the plane refueled, it's time to begin the ascent into the cold, arctic sky. You're a podcast listener, and this is a podcast ad heard only in Canada. Reach great Canadian listeners like yourself with podcast advertising from Libsyn Ads. Choose from hundreds of top podcasts, offering host endorsements, or run a pre-produced ad like this one across thousands of shows to reach your target audience with Libsyn ads. Email bob at libsyn.com to learn more.

That's B-O-B at L-I-B-S-Y-N dot com. It's around midday on Tuesday, October the 8th. Miles above the Labrador Sea, approaching the southern tip of Greenland, Dave flies the little Embraer aircraft with ease. Beside him in the cockpit, co-pilot Mark helps to navigate and keep an eye on the instruments. Viv is up front with the guys too, continuing to take pictures of the astounding scenery below. And it's bright, you can see the sea, you can see the icebergs. And it then all of a sudden it turns.

It happens in the blink of an eye. Smooth flying turns into violent turbulence. Stunning views are blotted out as the plane is consumed by a storm. You suddenly get one bump and you think, oh, that's how turbulence starts. Then it was a bit more, then it was a bit more, and I thought, oh, this isn't great. You couldn't see out of the window. It was pure white. So I had no idea, had no idea where we were at all. They've flown straight into a blizzard. A bad one. Snow pelts the aircraft, plastering it in thick, opaque layers of white. Visibility is reduced to nothing. The winds of the storm grip the plane, shaking it up and down, left and right, like a dog with a bone.

It's impossible to tell which direction they're flying, whether they're headed towards mountains or the sea. The rocking and rolling is intense and starts to make Viv feel airsick, something she's battled with in the past. She decides to take herself back to the cabin, where she tries to keep busy. Not the sort of turbulence I've ever felt before, really.

What I was doing was strapping everything into the seats. You know, old habits die hard, because in turbulence, anything can be dangerous. Viv looks out of the windows again. There is nothing, just a white void. They could have flown off course entirely. But Viv trusts that her experienced colleagues Mark and Dave are in control. Unfortunately, this optimism is unfounded.

Inside the cockpit, the two men are in serious trouble. What had happened, when the turbulence started, you then can collect ice on, they're called the pitots, which is the bits that stick out in the front, the little metal bits, and they'll sniff the atmosphere to say it's cold, you're this high. You know, it just tells you the attitude of the aircraft. And Dave and Mark at that point thought the aircraft was icing, you know, cause the instruments weren't responding. Due to the ice, the plane is registering no readings for altitude, speed, or temperature.

They'll have to rely on a mixture of memory and mathematics. The last time the pilots checked, they were flying at around 240 miles an hour at a height of 13,000 feet. It's the lowest safe altitude for this area. Any lower and they'd risk flying straight into a mountain. As to where they are, they can only guess that they're somewhere vaguely near the west coast of Greenland.

Dave makes a hasty radio call to the airbase at Goose Bay, explaining their perilous situation and offering a plan. The last call they made was that we were descending to, I think, 10,000 feet over the sea. We were going to do a 180 degree turn, head back the way we came, and then descend to lose the ice. The salty temperatures over the sea should be marginally warmer and might help to melt the frost on the plane. This way, they'll be able to reorient themselves and send Goose Bay an accurate reading of their location.

Theoretically, it's a good plan. But practically speaking, it's extremely dangerous. And the officials in Canada are worried. Up there is what they call a black zone. There's no more radio coverage because there's nothing there. So that's all we said was we were turning around to descend. And the last call they said was you do so at your own risk. That was it.

You know, it's the last radio call. What choice do Dave and Mark have? Every second in the blizzard is plunging them further into the unknown. If they don't react soon, it'll be too late. The pilots take the risk. Meanwhile, back in the cabin, and oblivious to the true danger of their situation, Viv is being battered this way and that.

In her fifteen years of flying, she's never experienced turbulence like this. She frantically ties down the loose luggage to minimize the danger of falling objects. Then, all of a sudden, the engine's pitch changes. It's a telltale sign that they're preparing to land. It's a lot sooner than expected. Based on the last readings before entering the blizzard, they shouldn't be approaching Nassauak for a while yet. But the whine of the plane is an undeniable signal that they're descending. Viv gets ready. It's not going to be a good one.

I heard the engine note change. I thought, Jesus, we're landing. So I rapped. It was subconscious, really. I must have wrapped my arms around the back of a seat chair. You know, I was flung around. I was hanging on for grim death. And what I heard was this ding, ding, ding, ding.

And that's the propellers hitting the ground Because obviously we didn't have the gear down Seconds later the aircraft smashes into the ground bouncing and bumping along the surface like a pebble skimming water Viv is thrown from her seat by the impact crashing into the back wall of the cabin everything shudders and vibrates and screams. Until, at last, the plane grinds to a halt. Viv takes a moment to steady herself. Her breathing is rapid, her heart rate high.

Instinctively, she checks for any bleeding or bruising on her body. It seems, miraculously, that she is unharmed. But that's more than could be said of the aircraft. It started filling up with smoke, and I sort of got myself up the front, shouted to the two guys, get out, it's going to go up, you know, and I'm trying to open the door. As Viv wrestles with the unmoving door handle, Dave appears at her shoulder. He looks in a bad way. Blood is pouring out of his head.

He's shaken, pale. But he is cogent enough to explain the situation to Viv. The smoke isn't coming from inside the plane. The engine has been shock-loaded by the impact of their landing, so it's still spinning, even though they've stopped moving. In the desperate context, this is relatively good news. It means they're not about to go up in flames. But Viv has more questions.

What exactly has happened? Why did they land so suddenly? And most importantly, where are they? So, and then I read the fatal words. I said, are we on the runway, Dave? And it was an expletive no. So I said, where are we? And he said, I don't know. So that's etched, I think, on my brain in fire. It didn't occur to me that we'd crashed are we and he said i don't know so that's etched i think on my brain in fire it didn't occur to me that we'd crashed and when he said i don't know where we are time stops it sounds dramatic i'm not dramatic but it really did you know because you you think well what the hell so we're all a bit stunned Smoke continues to rise from the front of the plane.

A chorus of alarms bleep in the background. The grim reality of their situation sinks in. Based on map readings taken from before the blizzard, it's possible they've crash-landed in an area once known as Blue West One. It's one of the most desolate locations in Greenland, a near-permanent no-man's land. There are no decipherable landmarks, no points to pin on a map, and the snow shifts like sand. A plane that crashes here one day could be completely covered in ice and powder the next, making it invisible to the world.

Out here, the three pilots are all alone. Their last call to Goose Bay was over 15 minutes ago, and having not heard from the three friends since they proposed to turn around, the officials in Canada would likely presume they're dead. They wouldn't risk people coming out. We would have done what they call going over time, which would happen with an aircraft now if it was heading somewhere and it was due to land in 10 minutes and they hadn't heard from it

after 15 minutes or 20 minutes. They know how long the fuel will last in that aircraft because all that has to be written down before you take off. So they've got so many tons of fuel on, that means they can fly for this amount of time. And if you go over that time, then the assumption is that you've crashed, disappeared. No one is coming to look for them. It's a harrowing reality the odds of survival in these arctic conditions are frighteningly slim but they are not prepared to give up just yet

and then i think everyone tried to do something practical because you can't sit there and wail and also you know that if any of us lost it, the other two, it would have affected them. So to a certain extent, you had to keep the lid on your emotions. I mean, mine were utter shock because it doesn't happen. You think we're in a glacial region and there's no coverage, you know, no nothing. And then I think it was, well, shall we do a distress call now well what should we do and it was getting dark then so we said nobody's going to come out now and it was survival how long are the batteries going to last that's how long your life is with the clock already ticking

they devise a plan the first priority is avoiding hypothermia, a very real threat with temperatures well below freezing. If they're going to survive the night, they need to focus all their efforts on staying warm. Viv rushes to the back of the plane and lugs their suitcases out, which she promptly empties. They each layer on all the items of clothing they've packed. Viv even instructs the men to pull on pairs of her tights. I was going to put these on tights and I was laughing,

and all your street cred's going to be ruined, you know, when you're found frozen stiff wearing ladies underwear. So that was the thing that, you know, we laughed. The gallows humor helps, keeping them that little bit warmer. As the sky outside darkens from navy blue to black The gallows humor helps, keeping them that little bit warmer. As the sky outside darkens from navy blue to black and the arctic gale rocks the aircraft from left to right, the three pilots exchange banter, joking about what condition they want to be found in and laughing until their jaws and ribs ache.

So that was our humor all the way through. And I think it was at the time with Monty Python, it was always look on the bright side of life. And I started humming that and singing it. And we said, we'll have to tell someone we've done this when we get home, you know, because I think on the radio, whoever it was asked people to tell them the most bizarre place they sang this song, you know, and we thought we'd win outright. It was things like that, which it was the assumption we would get out we would be all right even though really you know any idiot could see that was a bit

of a long shot behind the jovial facade there's no denying just how desperate the situation is the threat of death hangs in the air i didn't want to eat we had no food on the aircraft but if we had i wouldn't have eaten. And it was a weird thing. I'd accepted that I was going to die and it was quite peaceful. You know, you can't get out of this one. And with the guys being slimmer than me

and also women have more subcutaneous fat, I probably would have been the last one to die. And I thought I can't deal with that. And it was a bit like, you know, I would open the door and I would have gone out and just laid down in snow if they'd have died because I couldn't have stayed in the aircraft. It's this feeling of terrible sort of sadness but also my mum wasn't that well and I thought if they tell her you know what's happened that will kill her and also the

other thing was my house I had my own bungalow and I thought my poor mum's going to have to go through and sort it out, you know, get rid of the clothes, do all the things that one has to do after someone passes away. And that was unbearable. But Viv doesn't share these thoughts with the men. Instead, she carries on exchanging jokes with her friends as they huddle together, bodies pressed against one another in the flickering light of the dying aircraft. The three friends are exhausted. They haven't eaten or drunk a thing since they left Goose Bay over ten hours ago. All they can do is settle down for the night. As the three stranded pilots drift in and out of sleep, they have no idea that their aircraft has landed right in the middle of a path taken by migratory polar bears.

The world's biggest land carnivores typically migrate south in the autumn, from the northern forests of Greenland down to the glaciers on the coast. After days of wandering, their appetites will be substantial. So, if they happen upon three sleeping humans, they won't think twice about attacking. Blissfully unaware, Dave, Mark, and Viv sleep on. It's dawn on Wednesday, October 9, 1991. Sunlight spills onto Greenland's white plains as the glaciers glisten and sparkle in the yellow glow. Inside the wreckage of the Embraer aircraft,

Viv, Dave, and Mark awake. They are cold, hungry and their muscles ache from sleeping in uncomfortable positions. But they have survived the night. And now that daylight is on their side, they need to do everything they can to improve their chances of rescue. It was, I think, the longest night of my life. And in the morning, again, you're thinking, will the radio work? Will this, will that? But you've got to give it a go.

Dave heads outside into the frosty morning air, radio in hand. All around, it's a snowy desert of featureless white. He turns on the device and, remembering his training, switches to a specific frequency, one that might just offer some hope. There's a distress frequency, 121.5, that all aircraft flying across the Atlantic, all aircraft, big aircraft that fly, they have one of the radio boxes on that frequency, which is a safety thing.

So he put out a Mayday. Time and again, Dave cries Mayday into the radio, but his voice is repeatedly swallowed by the static. The lights on the radio blink as its batteries slowly dwindle. They don't have long left to make the call. If nobody answers, then surely all hope is lost. But then, finally, a voice breaks through the airwaves. An Air France 747 flying across the Atlantic has heard their distress call and answered.

Before the batteries give out, Dave quickly gives them their approximate location, based on rough estimates of the route they were flying when the blizzard hit. But when the Air France crew come back, they concede they're too far away to help. However, they promise to contact officials in Gander, Newfoundland, probably the closest search and rescue centre. Viv, Dave and Mark can't believe their luck. And again they find themselves sharing a joke. It must have been quite a shock to the French crew to hear their distress call during a routine flight.

Because you imagine these blokes with their feet up, smoking a Goulouaz, drinking their crew wine. And again we all laughed. The Air France pilot tells them to turn their radio off for the next hour to conserve its battery. He promises that when they switch it back on, they can expect a call from the search and rescue team to find out where they are. The three of them swiftly do as they're told. An hour crawls by, and they hastily switch the radio back on.

But now they can hear nothing except the crackling airwaves. Then he did another call call and nobody answered it. And that's when he thinks, did we hear that? Are we kidding ourselves? Because you've got no reference. The cold, silent minutes stretch into hours. And by 3pm, dusk is settling. Viv, Dave and Mark continue to huddle together inside the wreck of the aircraft.

They're exhausted, and they've had no food or water for almost 24 hours. With each passing hour, their chances of survival are decreasing. But just then, through the howling wind and relentless patter of snow, comes a different sound. Viv sits up. It was blizzarding, but I can hear something. As the sound nears, it becomes clear what it is. It's another aircraft. Unbeknownst to the aviators, a rescue mission has in fact been unfolding around them.

True to their word, the Air France team relayed details of their distress call and estimated location to the authorities in Gander. They, in turn, passed it on to Danish search and rescue crews who operate in Greenland. Now a plane has been sent out towards their location. And so they sent out an aircraft twice as big as ours, a prop aircraft. And all these guys, I mean, they're, you know, incredible, so it was still blistering. So they grid the area and they got a large cone of roughly the area where we were that was then followed up by a smaller aircraft and then they said we're going to send a helicopter out after scouring the area with two planes to home in on the stricken trio the rescue team now needs to send in a helicopter to actually reach them.

An hour later, the stranded friends hear the low hum of propellers. But there is a problem. Over 20 hours of constant snowfall has covered their aircraft, rendering it near invisible to the naked eye. While a small search plane was able to fly low enough to see them and retrieve their coordinates, the helicopter is struggling to pinpoint them. There's only one thing for it. Viv, Dave and Mark scramble out of the aircraft into conditions of minus 20 degrees centigrade. Being outside could overwhelm them in a matter of minutes, but it's their one remaining shot at survival. So we all gritted our teeth.

We took the chairs out and the guys put those on top of the aircraft and I threw clothes around the aircraft. So it was like, you know, making an area. And then I was standing outside and listening and I heard the helicopter. And then in front of us, it just descended down. And again, I've got photos of it. And you think, I knew I wouldn't believe it when I got home. So it was proof, if you like, that it had happened. The chopper descends slowly through the thick fog and snowy swirl. Viv, Mark and Dave crawl towards it,

buffeted by a combination of the rotorcraft's downwash and powerful icy winds. The two men reach it first, and then, then moments later Viv is helped on board as she's bundled into the helicopter she glances back at their abandoned wreck of a plane I look back at the aircraft and I could have cried for myself then it was an emotional thing but in a way I didn't really want to leave it because it was like leaving a bit of myself inside there. And that was strange to think what had gone on, the emotion that had been in that aircraft.

Where does that go? You know, what happens to it? I knew I'd changed irrevocably. You know, chemically, I felt I'd changed. Aged, you know, 50 years. Mentally, you know that you have changed. Viv, Dave and Mark are transported to the Nassau Work Air Base, the location they'd set out for all those hours ago.

A doctor there assesses them. They're all hypothermic, but that can be treated. Otherwise, they're well. Even Dave, who took a blow to the head when they crashed, is suffering no severe physical effects. That said, they came chillingly close to death. Turns out they landed 13,000 feet up on an enormous glacier. The search and rescue team explain that they give individuals a maximum of 30 hours to survive in those cold, cruel conditions. Viv, Dave and Mark were out there for 22 hours.

One more night and it would have all been over. Once we were out of it, I suppose you get that euphoria, don't you? You know, it was an absolute euphoria, we were alive From Nassauak, the trio hop on board another flight across Greenland before flying home to the UK But while the plane wreck is now thousands of miles behind them their ordeal is not easy to forget I think initially it was dreadful because it was trying to come to terms with it.

But I virtually went straight back to work because I thought that's what I had to do. And I found that quite, you know, quite tough. And I think it was a slow sort of progression really because my adrenaline was still running. So you're feeling a state of sort of fight or flight all the time. Viv sees a mental health expert to try to help her process her life-changing experience, but she struggles to accept what she's been through. I was taken to see a civil aviation psychiatrist. He said, what would help? And I said, maybe to talk to someone, another woman maybe who had survived. He said, there isn't anyone.

And that was a terribly isolating thing because he said, nobody has survived the accident that you have. And then, while driving home along the motorway one night, Viv experiences something which changes her outlook on life and on what happened to her back in Greenland. I was with a friend of mine and we witnessed a horrendous accident. A car spinning in front of us on the M25 in the dark, you know, nine o'clock at night. And we were the first car there. We stopped. I got out and there was a chap standing in the middle of the fast lane, covered in blood. And I shouted at him, just stay there. Ran towards him and then noticed there was a body in the road, sort of 100 yards down. And my friend said, before he could stop me,

I was running down the road in the fast lane with my hands out, trying to get to this girl. And then I got to her and just said, just keep still. And I thought, I've survived that and I'm going to be mown down on the motorway. So I think that gave me a view of how life is terribly short and is very important. Viv plays a key role in saving the life of this young girl. It helps her to finally put her own survival episode behind her and move forward with her life.

She meets and marries her husband and goes on to have two daughters. She tries to raise them to be as adventurous as her. She also makes sure that her house is always filled with laughter. After all, when she, Mark and Dave were hopelessly stranded in sub-zero temperatures, she says it was humour that kept them alive. That is the ultimate because you get a tension and that either tension increases or something ridiculous comes into your mind and you say it and the tension goes down. And I think that happened a lot. It's like a process.

And I know it's happened with a few people. The chaps I see, you know, as much as I can. And we all laugh about things, you know, take the mickey out of one another. And I think that's the biggest thing. That's the biggest thing in survival, is a mental attitude and humour. Over the next fortnight, while our team takes a short festive break, we'll delve into the Real Survival Stories archive.

In case you missed them the first time around, there are over 70 stories in the back catalogue available to listen to now. Next time, we go back to the first ever episode of the show. We meet Eva Vishnieska, a woman whose drive and tenacity take her to the edge. While paragliding in Australia in 2007, a dreamlike flight turns into a terrifying nightmare. Sucked up into the heart of a thunderstorm, ravaged by the elements, and hurtling to the edge of the breathable atmosphere, Eva will need all her wits and more than a few miracles to have any chance of making it back down to Earth.

That's next time on Real Survival Stories. Normal programming will resume on January 9th for regular listeners and January 2nd for Noiser Plus members. Happy holidays.