Well, I stayed in for the rest of the night. In the morning they moved the plane away back towards the airport. I had no idea where, but felt the plane moving and stopping. Then I heard some people speaking in Czech that there might be someone inside. They went into the plane to search and I heard one man saying: “I go from the bottom part and you go from the top, in case someone runs out from there.“ So I squeezed into a tiny corner expecting they will search properly. Then I heard some noise as someone was crawling through the same space as I had done and I saw the light of the torch behind me. I expected to be pulled out by the collar, which would be the end of everything, but the light was shinig around me as if nobody noticed me. Then the light was gone and I heard the man crawling back. I stayed put. Soon after that I heard the luggage being loaded and people getting into the plane. Then they started the engines and the plane rolled towards the runway. And when the engines actually started to, how to express it, rev up, and the plane moved on, I felt deep sadness. I knew I was leaving my home, my country, my parents and grandmother. Until this moment, it had been a boy´s game. Now I realized it all, but it was too late. The plane was moving along the runway, it was rising. I didn´t have much time to think about how I felt, beacuse as the plane was rising, I felt colder and colder. I knew I should again climb over to the luggage space. I did this, opened the cover and was again among the suitcases where it was relatively warm. I have no idea how long it took to get to Ireland, perhaps two or three hours. Then the plane landed. I stayed with the suitcases. The plane rolled slowly towards the airport. Everything around me was only darkness and noises. The plane stopped. I heard people getting out and suddenly the door opened and there was the same Cuban who saw me in the toilet. He said: “El mecanico!“ This is again the mechanic!
And I was standing there and suddenly as if something came over me and said: “Now, go.“ So I started walking between the two buildings and soon I was on the open field where the airplane was standing. Everywhere there were people doing some work or guards but I knew I had to walk on towards the plane. I didn´t need to turn my head right or left, I just walked on to the stairs leading to the plane and climbed inside. There was nobody there, it was completely empty. I looked around quickly to see where I could hide. I walked to the very back and squeezed into a tiny space behind a seat and waited. It was getting dark, it was late afternoon. I was still waiting and suddenly someone entered, walked through the plane looking around if anybody was in there, but didn´t se me in the corner and left again. The door closed. Then they pulled the plane towards some hangars further from the main building. The plane was supposed to leave the next day but it seemed there was something wrong with the plane or they might have waited for a spare part, no idea, but in the end the plane stayed there for three days. It was 19th December 1962 when I entered the plane and it took off as late as 21st December. So I had to be waiting there for two nights and one entire day. After the plane was moved away to the hangar, there was silence, the people left. Then I started to look for a place to hide. On the floor I found a kind of amanhole cover, I lifted it and saw there was a space where one could crawl through between the space for luggage and the outside part of the fuselage. So I crawled in and placed the cover back. I crawled all the way to the rear of the plane where I spent the three days waiting. It was in December. Outside there was a bit of snow and it was very cold, not as pleasant as in your bed at home but I was already there and couldn´t go back. I was in the dark, waiting. I also needed to use the toilet. I knew I had to climb up, I also found some biscuits in the plane to have something to eat and I think there was also some blanket around. I took it to make myself feel warmer. Then I crawled back to the place of hiding. There was nothing else to do but wait.
The second night came. Again I had to use the toilet so I got out through the manhole cover. Suddenly I heard some noise, the door opened and some people walked into the plane. No idea what to do. The lights in the toilet switched on, the door opened and a man was standing there saying: “El mecanico checo!“ He was Cuban and was saying: “Here is the mechanic!“I couldn´t think or do anything. It seemed they thought I was a Czech mechanic. They came to do some work on the plane. No idea, maybe they just got the spare part or something like that. In fact, they wanted me to help. Of course, I had no idea what they were saying in Spanish, but to add some explanation I should say that before I set out, my father had a Spanish dictionary. I learned a few words and phrases so I could speak a little bit. They worked in the plane for over an hour or so testing the engines, switching them on and off again. They asked me if I could be of help but I didn´t understand so they let me stand there. When they finished the work, they said or indicated that: “Let´s go, you must leave with us.“ I had to follow them down the stairs and, again, I was out of the plane. To show them I had a place to go to, I headed towards a hangar. They went another direction. I hid behind a corner and waited to see what would happen. It was at night, in the dark and when it was peace and quiet again, I went back to the plane thinking how to get inside. At first I tried to climb the front wheel, which was nonsense, of course. This is not the way to get in but I didn´t know that. When I was climbing down I saw a man approaching. He asked: “What are you doing there?“ I knew that much Spanish to say: Yo no hablo checo. Yo hablo espaňol que..“ And he said: „Ó, aha.“ And left. He thought I was Cuban. I had no idea how it came to me like that.
Milos Anthony Navratil was born as Miloš Antonín Navrátil on 25th April 1947 in Prague. His parents belonged to educated middle class whose families lost their property and positions after the February coup 1948. The family had to move from Nové Město nad Metují to Mšeno near Mělník and later to Prague. Miloš considers the country around Mšeno and the area of Kokořín the countryside of his childhood and one of the strong inspirations for his decision to live in Canada. Another reason was a family story about uncle Harry who lived in Canada and a difficult political situation, feeling of distrust and fear which Miloš was sensitive to. Without his parents´knowledge, at the age of 15, he hid inside a plane heading for Cuba. After an adventurous flight during the stopover he arrived in Gander, New Foundland. The authorities did not send him back but allowed him to stay, study and build up a new life. Miloš was not afraid of work and quickly felt good. In the very first year he constructed a sailboat, camped with friends and proved to himself that the emigration was a right decision. In 1967, his mother could leave Czechoslovakia to visit him, two years later his father. In 1966 - 1972, Miloš graduated from St Mary´s University in geological engineering. He lives in Nova Scotia, Canada.
