BASCO: A Brief Flight into South Arabia's Transitional Skies
In the twilight years of British colonial rule in South Arabia, the aviation sector witnessed a dramatic transition. The closure of Aden Airways on 30 June 1967, precipitated by the imminent British withdrawal, left a significant void in regional air transport. Aden Airways, once the lifeline connecting the disparate locales of the Federation and Protectorate of South Arabia, had been a symbol of connectivity and progress. Its dissolution marked the end of an era but also the beginning of a new chapter in the region's aviation history, albeit a brief and tumultuous one.
Into this breach stepped Brothers Air Services, also known as BASCO, an enterprise born from the entrepreneurial spirit of the Baharoon family. The Baharoons, under the stewardship of Sayid Zein A. Baharoon, were not new to the business world in South Arabia. Their ventures spanned across various sectors, with the "Brothers" nomenclature signifying their familial bond and collaborative approach to business. However, aviation was a new frontier for them, one fraught with challenges far different from those in their other commercial undertakings.
Armed with two DC3 aircraft, registrations VR-ABE and VR-ABF, BASCO sought to fill the gaps left by Aden Airways. The DC3s, workhorses of the skies, had a storied history of reliability and versatility. Yet, even these reliable aircraft could not shield BASCO from the turbulence of operating in a region on the cusp of significant political upheaval. The venture into air services was marked by ambition but also by a naivety about the complexities of aviation management and the rapidly changing geopolitical landscape.
David Tomlinson, Shell's District Sales Manager for South Arabia and Yemen between 1964-67, observed BASCO's operations with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. His account of never daring to fly with BASCO, despite having flown with other "chancey operators," underscores the perceived risk associated with these new entrants into the aviation scene. This sentiment was not isolated, as many saw BASCO's efforts as well-intentioned but ultimately ill-fated.
The skepticism wasn't unfounded. Gordon Rayney, the Director of Civil Aviation at the time, found himself at a crossroads when approached by the Baharoons. They offered reassurances of a smooth political transition and a secure future for him in Aden if he chose to stay. However, Rayney, with insight and perhaps a premonition of the challenges ahead, opted for a new beginning in Western Australia with his wife, Yolanda. His reflection on BASCO's operational acumen—or the lack thereof—"They had no idea what they were doing!"—speaks volumes about the difficulties faced by the airline.
BASCO's attempt to navigate the complexities of air transport in a transitioning South Arabia was a brief episode in the region's history. It highlighted not only the challenges of aviation in a politically volatile environment but also the end of colonial-era enterprises and the birth of local initiatives aiming to fill the void. Despite its short lifespan, BASCO's story is a poignant reminder of the period's uncertainties and the ambitious spirit of those who dared to dream amidst the winds of change.
