Storm Warning by Alan Barnes

Doctor Who was intended to be, in part at least, an educational programme. Teaching the little ‘uns all about Sensorites and men who choose to wear rubber outfits. Or at the very least look in a book and find out all about the Aztecs and their funny little ways or whether the Daleks really did invade the Earth in the year 2150AD. Around 1964 such laudable aims were forgotten and the production team got on with the job of using BEMs to scare the little buggers and forever taint their childhood with happy memories.

Storm Warning inspired in me a sense of wanting to know more about airships. I’m frequently amazed at how our ancestors – who knew practically nothing1 – were so resourceful. Perhaps Conan Doyle presents too rosy a picture of the telegram system but it appears to be a thing of wonder not surpassed until the text message. And yet still more readily understood. Same with air travel – we are smug about our aeroplanes which can carry hundreds of people to any one of a dozen countries around the world which are considered safe for Westerners to visit. Air travel then – engines, wings, fuselage, boiled sweets, armed security and Adam Sandler movies – that sort of thing. Oh no – our ancestors decided to make a seven hundred foot long balloon and fill it with explosive gas. Such imagination. Such incredible imagination.

Here is a picture of the real R101 moored at Cardington. Isn’t she magnificent? What I never knew was where everything went. Storm Warning uses the airship as its setting and has cabins, dining rooms, cargo holds and all manner of other chambers and corridors. I thought this a little odd. Surely everything is in a basket hanging under the balloon. But no – this schematic shows that everything was actually inside the balloon. An answer I would never have thought of. An answer that ten minutes internet research provided.

"The R101 was seen as a lavish floating hotel. Even by today’s standards, the open promenades and public spaces would be seen as unique in the skies. These large British ships were the first to adopt the style of using the interior of the ship for the passenger accommodation." (The Airship Heritage Trust)

The R101 was of course a real airship which really crashed with the deaths of 48 real people. Six survived which was ignored for obvious dramatic reasons in Storm Warning. History is always a touchy subject in drama. I recall the War Games inventing a reason why there was no Second World War zone in their Games. "Greater technological knowledge would be dangerous" said The Scientist. More likely that the War was still too close and too real for many of those watching. I hardly think that exposure to ITMA and the other favourites on the BBC home service would’ve made them more perilous subjects for experimentation. In the case of Storm Warning, the use of a real historical event adds to the drama. It also serves as a tribute to those who died because airships were a technological backwater, doomed to be forgotten. At least a few more people know about those pioneers and their sacrifice thanks to Storm Warning.

The story, well it isn’t bad. The first two episodes are very enjoyable as we enjoy the peculiar naval/aerial hybrid life aboard the R101. The notion of making first contact high in the air above France is a novel use of the vessel and Gareth Thomas is splendid as the somewhat naïve Lord Tamworth. The Triskele are not the most impressive of aliens. And shouting at your enemies until you are able to run away is not the most impressive of pay offs. But all that plays second fiddle for me to the R101. That’s what makes Storm Warning a memorable story.

 

[1 this is, of course, a joke]