Pilot tells story of harrowing plane crash

Theodore Wright and Raymond Fosdick float in the Gulf of Mexico Sept 20, 2012 after a crash. The photo is from a video made by Wright's iPad, which was in a waterproof case. Theodore Wright and Raymond Fosdick float in the Gulf of Mexico Sept 20, 2012 after a crash. The photo is from a video made by Wright's iPad, which was in a waterproof case. Image 1 of / 5 Caption Close Pilot tells story of harrowing plane crash 1 / 5 Back to Gallery

The situation was critical. The options few. The chances of survival even more minuscule.

With smoke filling the cockpit of the small, twin-engine plane from Baytown, pilot Theodore Wright knew there was no time to gradually descend to the turquoise waters 30 miles off the coast of Louisiana. He pushed the steering wheel forward and dove straight for the Gulf of Mexico two miles below.

Smoke thickened. Flames spewed from behind the instrument panel and melted the windshield. Gauges were invisible.

Thousands of planes a day defy gravity as they soar through the sky at hundreds of miles an hour. Regardless of what happens, there always is a 100 percent chance they'll be coming down. When things go wrong, the only question is, in how many pieces?

Sitting at the controls, Wright confronted the toughest of tasks: a crash landing at sea while coming in ablaze and blinded by smoke - his tale later told to the Chronicle with a nearly matter-of-fact demeanor.

"What are we going to do - freak out and let the airplane crash and burn to death, or lock up stone-faced? You don't have a lot of choice," the 27-year-old Wright told the Chronicle in an interview.

With him was Raymond Fosdick, 36, whom Wright was flying from Baytown to Florida, where Fosdick had a client waiting for a water system to be installed on a 72-foot yacht. Best of friends, the two met on the Kemah docks years earlier. They shared an affinity for sailing and adventure.

Wright hoped to fly the refurbished plane around the world next year to raise money as part of Around The World For Life, a program giving dream flights to children with cancer. Several children had soared to the skies in the plane.

But on the recent September afternoon that marked the last flight of plane N-265Q, Wright needed help of his own.

Wright said he advised Houston air-traffic controllers of the problem with the Beechcraft Baron but had to cut electric power to try to stop the fire. He activated an emergency beacon while working the plane's controls through the smoke and aiming for a spot to drop - perpendicular to the waves, perhaps near a boat.

If the plane descended too quickly, the force could tear it apart. If the plane went too slowly, the men would burn.

Fosdick cracked open an escape hatch, grabbed two yellow life vests and a bag of survival gear, and braced for impact.

"Hold on," Wright recalled shouting in the final seconds.

The plane hit the Gulf with a thud, skipped like a giant rock and slammed to a halt as if it had hit a brick wall.

Waiting for rescue

Strapped in their seats, the men found themselves sitting in water up to their waists. They popped open their harnesses and climbed on a wing that already was under water.

In the final instant aboard the plane, Wright instinctively grabbed his iPad, which was sealed in a waterproof case.

In the span of mere minutes, he went from eating a bag of M&Ms at 11,000 feet to sitting in a wrecked plane in the Gulf.

The plane quickly plunged nose first.

With nothing to be seen for miles, the pair bobbed in the slight swells wearing yellow life vests, trying to conserve their energy and stay calm.

"You remember, 'Open Water?' That comes to mind," said Fosdick, referring to a movie about an American couple diving off Australia and left behind by a boat crew never to be seen again.

They had done everything right so far. They had advised air-traffic controllers of the trouble, filed a flight plan of their route and triggered a homing beacon.

Wright said that while in the water, he considered why things happen as they do and if there is a God or a higher power.

"You kind of wonder, I don't care who you are," he said.

Wright used the iPad, still in its LifeProof case, to record a brief video, a record of where they were and what was happening. After about three hours, they watched a Customs and Border Protection plane and a Coast Guard helicopter fly by, but neither seemed to slow, circle or show a sign the men were spotted.

Wright estimated the two aircraft flew nearby at least a dozen times.

"We're waving our arms and they are flying over the top of us," he said. "Surely they saw us, but no. I'm starting to get nervous. The sun is setting and they have 40 minutes to spot us or we're done."

The men were shivering, their bodies taking a beating from being at sea.

About 20 minutes before sunset, the bright orange Coast Guard helicopter swooped in and hovered above. A rescue swimmer jumped in the water. A basket was lowered.

"Ted and I looked at each other and shook hands when we knew it was over," Fosdick said.

A phone call home

Lt. Linh Vinh, a co-pilot on the helicopter, said Customs and Border Patrol was the first to spot the men, and he credited Wright and Fosdick with doing everything right.

"It is pretty incredible," he said. "Things really worked out for them."

As the helicopter, with its two passengers wrapped in blankets, made its way back to its base, Wright got a signal on his iPhone, which also survived the ordeal. He called his girlfriend in Houston and asked her to grab some dry clothes and drive to meet him in New Orleans. Four days later, he was back in the air.

Fosdick, who just moved from Houston to North Carolina, took a bus home - on orders from his wife.

dane.schiller@chron.com twitter.com/daneschiller