“Mayday, Mayday, Mayday,” the heavily accented voice burst over the guard frequency. It was heard simultaneously by the flight followers in McMurdo and by the Chilean Twin Otter, the sleeker and more versatile cousin to the Dornier Aircraft. “This is Lima-Alpha-India-One-One-Niner. We are going down near the Patriot Hills with three souls on board. Mayday!”
The two pilots that were flying the Otter looked at each other in stunned disbelief. LAI-119 was their call-sign, it was they who were calling in the Mayday. The co-pilot keyed the mic.
“Eh, pour favor? Please to say again?” was the confused transmission.
But before a reply could be made to LAI-119, McMurdo responded.
“We copy Lima-Alpha-India. Copy you are in distress. Can you give your ‘Papa’? The ‘Papa’ was their position.
“Se, Se,” the voice said and it went on to list a group of coordinates.
The Chileans kept trying to get through, but it was clear that their radio did not have enough power to reach all the way to McMurdo. So, they copied the coordinates and the navigator drew them out on the map.
“This is where we are!” he said, shaking his head.
“Impossible,” the Pilot said. “Could it be someone else?”
“Someone who doesn’t know who they are? And who thinks they are us?”
“True,” the Pilot agreed. “But..?”
But before anyone could answer McMurdo came back on.
“Okay, Lima-Alpha-India. We have you. When you put down try to make contact with an ‘All’s-Well’ and we will figure it out from there. Good luck.”
“Gratzie,” the voice said in an Italian accent before catching itself and hurriedly added, “Gracias, gracias. Muchos gracias.”
The Chileans did not know what to make of this mystery, but they agreed that if there was an answer to it, it may be found on the ground at the location of their supposed accident. They began to descend.