Plane insanity: How two Trinis reached Canada

In the final years of their short lives, Richard De Souza and Everard Sookharry lost their way. Completely.
One enslaved by bay rum, the other by cocaine, they drifted about Chase Village, Chaguanas, working odd jobs for sympathetic business people who remembered them in their youth.
De Souza plucked and butchered chicken for the depots, and Sookharry sold vegetables and weaved coconut leaf hats that he hawked roadside. Both men, who were friends, were all but homeless by then.
So when they hustled enough money, they would find their way to the space under the flyover spanning the Solomon Hochoy Highway.
And with vehicles rumbling by above, and traffic flashing by below, these modern-day trolls would lose themselves in their intoxicants, safe from the police.
There, they would overnight on cardboard beds, forgetting everything, or maybe remembering their finest moment, 30 years ago, when they had the awestruck attention of the entire country of Canada.
Two weeks ago, when Prime Minister Dr Keith Rowley gave one of his long-winded news conference addresses—this one on the matter of the Venezuelan migrants—he reminded the population that Trinidadians had done the same back in the ’80s and ’90s, when they jetted off to North America, in a time before a visa was needed.
And having arrived on vacation, locals claimed asylum and refugee status, alleging all manner of atrocity had been inflicted upon them by the authorities on the island. Rowley mentioned that the desperation was such that there was even a case of two Trinis landing in Canada without the airline ever knowing they were aboard.
The Trinis he was taking about were De Souza and Sookharry.
This is their story.
That Monday morning on February 19, 1990, Sookharry, then 26, and De Souza, 19, strolled into the VIP Lounge of the old Piarco Airport, a drinking spot next to the waving (and weeping) gallery that was so close to the departing aircraft that you could be blown over when they taxied away.
The two were in coveralls, since they had labouring jobs in construction. In the bar, they had an unobstructed view of the tarmac, and of the BWIA Lockheed Tristar sitting there. They knew the aircraft was being prepared for Flight 1011, bound for Pearson International, Toronto.
Both had dead-end lives in Trinidad. Both knew Canada, having returned from there the year before after withdrawing their refugee claims, which were among an estimated 14,700 made by Trinidadians back then.
They took a drink, pondered, and decided to see the Canadian winter.
The men left the airport, walked east to the perimeter fence, easily scaled it and walked to the plane, skipped up the stairs and was into the cabin before anyone noticed. Plan A was to just start up and fly away. So they went into the cockpit and began punching on knobs and flipping switches. That didn’t work out.
So they decided to hide. De Souza tried fitting into a cupboard in the galley. Sookharry considered the overhead luggage compartment. About then, the janitors came aboard to prep the plane for the passengers. De Souza grabbed a clipboard and pretended to be doing a checklist. Their presence on the plane was plausible. Both were in “maintenance” outfits.
The janitors grew suspicious so De Souza and Sookharry disembarked. Plan B was then hatched.
The main landing gear of the Lockheed Tristar, when the wheels are deployed, leaves a huge cavity in the plane’s underbelly near the wings. They crawled in, and waited. The passengers began filing in. The aircraft powered up, and began rolling.


The men would later tell a story of screaming along with the jet engines, bodies pressed against the vibrating wall of the wheel well as the plane fought gravity, then the moment of lift-off, and of seeing the ground fall away, of the terror of knowing there was no turning back when the land gear retracted and the massive wheels came within inches of them, and of the space going dark, leaving a smell of burnt tyres.
‘An insane thing for anyone to try’
At least 113 people have attempted to stow away in the landing gear of an aircraft between 1947 and 2015 in the United States alone. Eighty-six of those people died.
Some turned to human ice cubes. Some died from oxygen deprivation and tumbled to earth when the wheelbay doors opened.
De Souza and Sookharry made it. They cut into a rubber and fibreglass reinforced panel and fit themselves into a cubbyhole in the wing. It took six hours to get to Toronto. The jet flew at 10,000 metres. The temperature dropped to -40°C. The oxygen at that altitude is about six per cent of what is available at ground level. They survived hypoxia, nitrogen gas embolism and decompression sickness.


The plane landed in Toronto at 4.30 p.m. And our Trinis stayed hidden until the passengers got out with the crew. De Souza would later explain that when they thought it was safe, they would drop out of the wheel well, and into the Canadian snow. Only to find the plane’s captain doing an inspection of his craft.
“Hey, where did you guys come from?’ De Souza was asked. “We come from Trinidad,” he answered.
They were taken away by airport police to the hospital for a check-up, then sent to a detention centre.
The men fought deportation for more than a year, in and out of Immigration Court in Toronto, while Trinidad and Tobago reeled from the July 1990 attempted coup and its aftermath.
During that time, they were celebrated. “It’s an insane thing for anyone to try,” said the spokesperson for Lockheed.
Every small detail of their journey was chronicled. They had smoked cigarettes up there while hiding near a wing filled with fuel. They had left some “bandana” rags, a pair of sunglasses, and someone had defecated.
In the end, both were deported, returning to Trinidad as Chase Village celebrities. De Souza would henceforth be given the name B-Wee, and Sookharry the nickname Nasa.


They would never fly again but tried fixing their lives, relatives and friends told the Express this week. Both men were intelligent, skilled, and street smart. Each had a son. But the drugs and drink won.
Everard Sookharry died ten years ago from his drug use. He was in his 50s. Last December De Souza died from multiple organ failure from the same abuse. Both were found near their flyover.
The Canadian media had speculated as to how the men could have survived the trip.
They must have fallen unconscious and basically went into hibernation (a poikilothermic state), and snoozed all the way across from the south Caribbean, Lockheed suggested.
Some years before his death, the Express had asked De Souza how they survived.
He laughed. It was rum. They had stowed away with a bottle of Forres Park puncheon.
Source:  Saturday Express, Jan 1, 2021