Small they may be, but the climate in the Canary Islands distinguishes them as a year-round holiday destination, with hot summers and warm winters, with each of the seven islands imbued with their own distinct flavor. Every year millions of tourists flock from around the globe to one of the seven islands to lounge on the sandy beaches and escape the harsh winter of their home countries.
Above all, terrorism has avoided landing on these shores, preferring to target bigger and more newsworthy countries. But that wasn’t always the case.
The Canary Islands are located geographically closer to Africa than they are to Spain, and decades ago a group calling themselves the Canary Islands Independence Movement wanted to free the islands from what they considered to be the oppressive yoke of Spanish rule.
They were not a particularly large or violent group, founded in 1964 by Antonio Cubillo, yet on occasion took up arms to fight the struggle against what they perceived to be their Spanish oppressors. One such occasion saw them bomb a shopping mall in Las Palmas de Gran Canaria in 1976, fortunately with no loss of life.
Their next act of terrorism in 1977 was to contribute to an unexpected tragedy on the Island of Tenerife that would reverberate around the world.
But how could an organization with only 100 members be responsible for such a catastrophe?
The chain of events started with a bombing in January 1977. First, the CIIM set off a bomb in the offices of South African Airways in the capital, then followed that by the bombing of a florist shop located inside Las Palmas Airport in March of the same year, injuring several people.
Emboldened by their escalating militant action, they warned the authorities that a second, more lethal device was hidden inside the airport.
Taking the CIIM more seriously than ever before, and fearing that this time lives could be lost, the civil aviation authority had no choice but to close the airport and divert planes to the airport in the North of Tenerife until the bomb could be located.
Two particular planes that were diverted to Tenerife were the chartered KLM Flight 4805 from the Netherlands captained by Jacob Veldhuyzan van Zanten, and Pan Am Flight 1736 originating from Los Angeles International Airport and captained by Victor Grubbs.
Both captains were experienced in flying the Boeing 747, both were accustomed to flying in less-than-ideal conditions, neither was prepared for what was about to happen next.
The date was March 27, and the worsening weather was decreasing the visibility around the airport by the hour. The elevation of the airport was such that low-lying clouds could reduce visibility to 500 meters one minute, then less than 100 meters the next.
Compounding the situation was the congestion of diverted aircraft that were now parked and blocking the only taxiway, which resulted in any aircraft needing to depart having to use the runway instead.
It was a recipe for disaster shrouded in thick, dense fog.
After refueling and waiting patiently, finally, the time came for the KLM flight to depart, to resume its delayed journey, much to the relief of the passengers. The captain was given the all-clear by the control tower to initiate takeoff, both of them going through the standard procedures as normal.
It was at this stage that communication between the KLM cockpit and the control tower became somewhat confused, the small, regional airport unaccustomed to the sudden influx of international flights that needed to be shepherded seamlessly from one place to the next for parking, for landings, and for takeoffs.
During the exchange, the KLM flight crew were unsure whether they had been given the green light for takeoff, asked for clarification from the controller over an intermittently bad connection, then proceeded to depart when they received full clearance.
But they hadn’t, not exactly, misinterpreting in the confusion a non-standard ok from the controller that they were good to go.
The Pan Am flight was in the midst of this controlled chaos, themselves struggling to communicate clearly with the control tower, not trying to take off but to find the third exit to the taxiway that they had been instructed to take. In the deteriorating visibility, they were finding it difficult to locate this third exit, slowly rumbling down the runway through the dense fog.
Unfortunately, both the KLM captain and the controller were unaware of the Pam Am airliner’s location, obscured as it was by the fog, lumbering towards the taxiway, but still on the runway.
The accident occurred near the fourth taxiway, the Pan Am pilot missing his exit but turning slowly down this one, hesitant, unsure. The control tower was unable to even see what was unfolding before them, and there was no ground radar at this time to warn them nor the KLM pilot accelerating down the runway, to forewarn them that an immovable object was directly in their path.
Captain Jacob Veldhuyzan van Zanten was fast approaching takeoff speed when the Pan Am plane came into view suddenly out of the thick fog. Years of experience kicked in, instinct propelling him to increase speed in an attempt to climb over the trundling aircraft.
But it was far too late for him to avoid it, and the resulting collision was horrific.
Every single one of the 248 passengers and crew on board died in the fiery explosion, while sixty-one people survived out of the 396 onboard the Pan Am flight, the ones who were lucky enough to be seated in the front section.
When news of the tragedy became known, many fingers pointed in the direction of Antonio Cubillo, the leader of the Canary Islands Independence Movement. He denied all responsibility, attributing the blame to the KLM pilot for not following the control tower instructions.
Yet if not for his group’s act of terrorism in the airport in Las Palmas de Gran Canaria, if not for this one incident, if not for one man’s mission for independence, neither of the two planes would have been in Tenerife on this day in March 1977, and 583 souls would not have perished in the world’s worst aviation accident in history.