Photographers Blog

By Beawiharta

I think this has been my hardest assignment to get photos since I began working for Reuters.

Wednesday
Wednesday afternoon at the office I received news that a Russian Sukhoi Superjet 100 passenger plane with 46 people on board had lost contact with air traffic control at Jakarta’s Halim Perdana Kusuma airport during their demonstration flight over Mount Salak. After more than four hours of no contact, it meant the aircraft was lost, crashed or had made an emergency landing. I decided to spend the night at the office to figure out the fastest options for covering the Sukhoi news, and to prepare all the camera equipment in the pictures vehicle. After a discussion with Heru Asprihanto from TV and Indonesia bureau chief Matthew Bigg, we decided to wait until morning to head to the the nearby location Mount Salak.

Thursday
After taking photos in the morning of volunteers preparing to climb Salak Mountain, I received information that the Sukhoi aircraft had crashed after hitting a slope atop Mount Salak. For Indonesians, it is common for aircraft to hit the mountain. Since 2004, four aircraft have crashed there, the worst an Indonesian air force aircraft in 2008 that killed 18 soldiers on board.

After eating lunch, I joined the first rescue team heading to the crash site. The team said it would need two to three hours to climb to the crash site from our position. I thought I would need between four to six hours to climb up and walk back down, before managing to send pictures to the desk at around 6pm local time. I joined the team, deciding not to carry a laptop and sat phone in order to lighten the baggage that I was carrying while climbing. It would also prevent any damage to the equipment should I fall. I had five chocolate bars, 1.5 liters of water, two camera bodies and three lenses, alongside a pocket knife, headlamp and rain coat in my backpack.

The team had received coordinates for the crash site – around seven kilometers in a straight line from our position. In the beginning it was quite difficult to keep up with the fast pace of the rescue team members, made up of mainly Indonesian military soldiers. Mount Salak is a tropical rainforest; foggy but warm and wet, and with many insects and leeches. After walking for two hours I began to adapt to the situation. The wet path was almost like vertical stairs. I often needed to grip onto tree roots to help pull myself up.

By Tim Chong

I was covering the Singapore F1 Grand Prix over the weekend.

Sunday was race day and as usual I woke up a bit early to check the news. I saw on my twitter feed that a plane carrying tourists to see the Himalayan range and Mount Everest had crashed in Nepal.

I was on a similar flight a year ago myself and the tragedy felt especially personal because of its proximity.

Four airlines in Nepal operate these one-hour long mountain flights that allow travelers with limited time in Nepal to see a panoramic view of the Himalayan ranges and Mount Everest itself. I remember the day clearly, having arrived early at the domestic terminal of Kathmandu’s Tribhuvan airport. The aircraft was rather new; a twin-engine turbo-prop plane and I felt instantly relieved. Like any other flight, the usual routine applied. There was a safety demonstration, and everyone was made to buckle their seat belts.

On July 25, 2000, I had returned to Paris after four weeks of covering the Tour de France and was in the office waiting for my flight back to my home base Nice. It was a quiet day for news and that afternoon I relaxed in the office.

Paris photographer Philippe Wojazer told me, “because it’s quiet, there isn’t any need for the two of us here, I’m going back to my place.” I remember seeing him take his motorbike helmet and then seeing a news flash that said, “Plane crash at Roissy.” The adrenaline was pumping in the office when a second news flash announced “It is a Concorde.”

Philippe told me to head to Roissy on a motorbike with a driver and he would stay at the office to receive my photos. On the way to Roissy, I could see a column of smoke in the distance. Immediately I realized the severity of the situation and the fact that it was a Concorde heightened the news value of the event. Quickly we arrived close to the crash site but it was already surrounded by police who had blocked access to the area and the surrounding two miles.

Two hours after the news broke about a military jet crashing into San Diego homes, I received an email to You Witness from Ron Belanger with a link to dramatic photos of the incident. Here is Ron's account of events.

I was working at home near MCAS Miramar in San Diego mid-day Monday, when I heard the unmistakable "pop… pop…" sound of ejection seats firing nearby but hadn't heard the jet's engines. As a retired Navy pilot and aircraft accident investigator I suddenly realized this meant that a pilotless aircraft and ejection seats would soon be coming down. I took cover under my desk then heard a deafening sound as the plane crashed and the house shook violently.

When I ran outside there was a large black cloud of smoke rising and I could feel the heat. I tried to call 911 but the line was already busy as other witnesses called in the emergency. I grabbed my shoes and camera and ran down to the scene which is five houses over from mine. Several of us asked neighbors if there was anyone in the house. Since that wasn't known, we went down the right side, where part of the house was still standing, shouting out to anyone inside but there was no answer… just the roar of the fire and the sound of small explosions. We couldn't go in because the house was fully involved in flames at every opening we found. As we were checking out the back yard, a propane tank from the camper which had been pushed into the house exploded. We quickly retreated since there was nothing we could do.