Please rescue these Boeings

Please rescue these Boeings

Three cargo Boeing 747 aircraft, TF-ARN, TF-ARH and TF-ARM, apparently owned, or formerly owned, by Air Atlanta Icelandic are sitting on the tarmac at Kuala Lumpur Airport awaiting collection. Or even recognition. Like abandoned dogs, they wait patiently, believing that each dawn will produce a claimant, any claimant really. It not starvation because aircraft don’t starve. It is lack of attention, you see. Aircraft have feelings just like the rest of us.

Before we were married my wife, then fiancée, decided to change her car. She had a sweet little vehicle with the sort of headlights that pop up when you switch them on, rather like the eyelids of a heavily made-up actress waking from a dreamy sleep. She was fond of it. Time came when she had to leave it at the garage and pick up a new transport. I was with her.

She parked Toots – can’t remember if that was the real name but it will do for now – jumped out and walked away. I reprimanded her and led her back to the trusty steed that had taken her safely all over the island for the past five years. “Give her a pat and a word of thanks,” I said, “you can’t just cast her off like a used poncho.” Like aircraft, cars have feelings.

I expect there has been a time when you have parked your car in a hurry in, perhaps, a big, multi-story carpark and then forgotten where it was. Before the days of remote door openers it was the devil of thing to find it. I once had to call the police out in London to find my car. They did it with great grace, collected me in the police car and drove me to it. They didn’t even breathalyse me, although, to be fair, I was quite sober at the time. If the owner can’t remember where s/he parked the three Boeing 747s perhaps Interpol could help?

Now you are a kind-hearted person, I am sure. If you saw an abandoned cat you’d probably take it home, feed it some milk and make it comfortable for the night. If it stayed with you, well, you might have struck up a new, beautiful relationship that could have gone on for years. A Boeing 747 is, admittedly, a different proposition and you certainly wouldn’t want three of them cluttering up your HDB. So perhaps the next best thing it to organise a rota of visitors. They could even take tea and cakes and serve them on the flight decks.

We could create a small but dedicated community of Boeing lovers, those who remember the days of Upper Deck travel and the great Pelican of the Sky swooping and settling ever so gently on the runway. Feather-light, leisurely landings reflecting a gentler and more relaxed way to travel, days long since gone. Spare a thought for them, they were precious.

So if you know of anyone, anyone at all, who might appreciate adopting a Boeing 747, might even enjoy living in one, pass on the message that there are three waiting to be recognised.

I know they’ll appreciate it.