On the afternoon of March 6, 2003, the crew of Air Algerie Flight 6289 was battling more than just a three-hour delay. They were battling a subtle erosion of safety that had begun long before they reached the cockpit.
This is the story of how a routine takeoff in the Algerian desert transformed into a tragic example of what happens when preparation fails and standard procedures are ignored.
A Recipe for Disaster
The Boeing 737-200, nearly 20 years old, sat on the tarmac at Tamanrasset Airport. The delay was caused by a hydraulic pump issue, but the technical state of the aircraft seemed otherwise sound. However, the human element was already faltering.
Because of the delay, the Captain skipped the pre-flight briefing. The 44-year-old First Officer was left to handle everything alone: weather, flight plans, and performance calculations. By the time the Captain arrived, the temperature had climbed to 25°C. At an airport elevation of 4,500 feet, the density altitude became a silent thief of performance.

The Cockpit Environment
The First Officer was prepared to be the “Pilot Flying.” But as they prepared for departure, the professional atmosphere began to crumble:
Distractions: Instead of focusing on the flight, the Captain spent the taxi-out chatting with the male purser.
Lack of Briefing: When the First Officer tried to brief the engine-out procedures—critical for a heavy takeoff in hot weather—the Captain interrupted her, showing no interest.
Violation of Protocol: The Captain allowed the purser to sit in the cockpit jumpseat for takeoff just to continue their private conversation.
The “sterile cockpit” rule, which prohibits non-essential conversation during critical phases of flight, was completely discarded.
14:13: The Moment of Failure
As the aircraft roared down Runway 02, the engines hit full thrust. At 160 knots, the First Officer rotated the nose toward the sky. Just five seconds into the air, she called for “Gear Up.”
At that exact microsecond, the left engine—number one—suffered a catastrophic turbine failure. Several blades, weakened by thermal fatigue, fractured and disintegrated. The engine died instantly.
In a properly functioning cockpit, this is a manageable emergency. The Boeing 737 is designed to fly on one engine. But Flight 6289 was not a functioning cockpit.
The Fatal Handover
Surprised by the loud bang and the aircraft’s sudden yaw to the left, the Captain did the one thing he was least prepared for: he took control.
Taking over the controls during an emergency at 300 feet is incredibly dangerous. The Captain hadn’t been “in the loop” of the aircraft’s handling. Amidst the chaos:
The Gear Remained Down: The Captain ignored the First Officer’s earlier request to retract the landing gear. The landing gear stayed down, creating massive aerodynamic drag.
Speed Decay: The Captain maintained a steep 18° pitch, the same as a normal takeoff. With one dead engine and the gear dragging in the wind, the speed plummeted.
Reduced Thrust: Evidence suggests the thrust on the remaining good engine was inadvertently reduced.
Within seconds, the 737 was no longer flying; it was falling.
“Don’t Sink”
The “stick shaker” began to vibrate—the aircraft’s final warning of an impending stall. The Ground Proximity Warning System (GPWS) began to scream: “DON’T SINK! DON’T SINK!”
The aircraft reached a maximum altitude of only 390 feet before the right wing dropped.
At 14:15, only moments after leaving the ground, the back of the aircraft and the right wing slammed into the earth beyond the runway fence. The 10 tons of fuel on board ignited instantly, turning the jet into a fireball.
The Lone Survivor
Of the 103 people on board, 102 perished. The only survivor was a 28-year-old soldier sitting in the very last row. Fate had intervened in a strange way: he had ignored the safety briefing and failed to fasten his seatbelt. When the plane broke apart, the force ejected him from the wreckage, clear of the inferno that consumed everyone else.
The Lesson
The investigation was clear. The engine failed, but the pilots failed to fly. The lack of Crew Resource Management (CRM), the failure to retract the gear, and the Captain’s decision to take control without situational awareness turned a mechanical glitch into a massacre.
In aviation, procedures aren’t just paperwork—they are the only thing standing between a “small problem” and a catastrophe.