11 Harrowing Details About the 1972 Andes Flight Tragedy

A Fairchild FH-227D aircraft departed Mendoza, Argentina, on October 13, 1972, heading for Santiago, Chile. The plane carried five crew members and 40 passengers, primarily members of a Uruguayan rugby team—aged between their late teens and mid-twenties—along with their loved ones. The flight ended in catastrophe when the plane crashed in the desolate, snow-covered Andes, stranding survivors in a fight for their lives. When rescuers finally arrived on December 22 and 23, only 16 individuals had survived. Below are 11 gripping facts about this harrowing event.

The crash was attributed to pilot error.

The Old Christians Club rugby team had chartered Uruguayan Air Force Flight 571 for their trip to a match in Chile. After departing Uruguay on October 12, adverse weather conditions forced an unscheduled stop in Argentina. Due to regulations, the plane could not remain grounded in Argentina for more than 24 hours, pressuring the pilots to take off the following day—Friday the 13th, a date that would prove fateful.

Reflecting on the tragedy, survivor Nando Parrado—who lost his mother and sister in the crash—shared with The Guardian, “I would never step foot on that plane again. A Fairchild FH-227D, with weak engines, overloaded with passengers, attempting to cross South America’s highest peaks in terrible weather. It was a disaster waiting to happen.” Out of the 78 FH-227s ever produced, an alarming 23 met with fatal crashes.

Although the aircraft and weather conditions were far from favorable, the ultimate cause of Flight 571’s demise was human error. Co-pilot Lieutenant-Colonel Dante Héctor Lagurara, under the supervision of the more seasoned Colonel Julio César Ferradas, mistakenly believed they had cleared Curicó when they were still 43 miles (70 kilometers) away. As the plane descended through the clouds, the pilots realized they were still in the mountains. Lagurara attempted to pull up, but it was too late—the plane struck a ridge, severing both wings and the tail. The fuselage then slid down the mountain, coming to rest on a glacier at approximately 12,000 feet (3658 meters).

Seventeen lives were lost either during the crash or within the first 24 hours.

Twelve individuals perished during the crash or shortly after; five died from injuries inside the cockpit and cabin, while seven others were ejected from the aircraft.

On the ground, medical students Roberto Canessa and Gustavo Zerbino immediately began tending to the injured, many of whom had been crushed by seats pushed forward during the impact. Arturo Nogueira suffered two broken legs, and Rafael Echavarren’s calf was severely torn, exposing the bone. Enrique Platero had a metal tube embedded in his stomach, which, when removed, pulled out part of his intestines. Remarkably, despite his injuries, he began assisting others right away.

As night descended, temperatures dropped to a bone-chilling −30° F (−34° C). Marcelo Pérez blocked the open tail section using loose seats, luggage, and snow. They attempted to stay warm by burning flammable items, including $7500 in cash and a small amount of wood, but the fires were short-lived. Tragically, five more individuals died from their injuries that first night.

Search planes flew over the crash site, but the survivors remained unnoticed.

When Flight 571 failed to arrive in Santiago, authorities quickly suspected a problem. The survivors, aware that the white fuselage would blend into the snow, tried to increase their visibility. They wrote SOS on the plane’s roof using lipstick and nail polish, but the letters were too small. They also arranged suitcases to form a large cross in the snow, but it went unseen by passing aircraft.

The survivors spotted and heard planes flying overhead, even believing one had dipped its wings in acknowledgment. However, when no help arrived, they realized they hadn’t been spotted. A transistor radio was found and repaired, but it could only receive signals, not transmit. Attempts to fix the cockpit radio with batteries from the tail also failed. On their 11th day stranded, they heard the devastating news that the search had been abandoned due to dangerous weather and the assumption that no one could still be alive. Authorities planned to resume the search for wreckage and remains after the snow melted in January.

When their meager food supplies were exhausted, the survivors resorted to consuming the flesh of the deceased to stay alive.

The glacier offered no plants or animals, and the survivors found only a small amount of food in their luggage. They carefully rationed the chocolate, nuts, jam, and wine, but as starvation loomed, they were forced to consume the flesh of the deceased. This grim task was carried out discreetly by a small group.

“We did it out of necessity,” Antonio Vizintín stated. “It felt like a Communion.” While this religious justification helped some, not everyone agreed. Numa Turcatti, for example, rarely ate the meat and often discarded it secretly, as José Luis Inciarte later revealed. Most, however, reluctantly accepted cannibalism, with Canessa noting that they even agreed, “If we died, we would gladly offer our bodies to help the others survive.”

After their rescue, the survivors initially kept their cannibalism a secret from the media. “I wanted the families of the deceased to hear it from us first,” Canessa explained. “They deserved to know directly.” However, photos of human remains near the plane were leaked, and a journalist even accused them of killing for food. Within days, they held a press conference to address the allegations.

While many newspapers sensationalized the story, religious leaders defended the survivors. Representatives of the Catholic Church stated that their actions were justified under the circumstances, and Pope Paul VI sent a telegram absolving them of any guilt.

Sixteen days after the crash, an avalanche buried the survivors, claiming eight more lives.

On the night of October 29, an avalanche engulfed the fuselage. Snow burst through the makeshift barrier at the tail, burying the sleeping survivors. Some managed to free themselves and frantically dug out others, but eight people tragically suffocated.

Using a metal pole, they created an air passage through the snow above the plane. After digging an exit, a blizzard forced them back inside the snow-filled wreckage. Trapped for days, they reluctantly turned to consuming the flesh of those who had recently died.

Three survivors attempted to escape by climbing a mountain.

Previous attempts to leave the crash site—to locate the tail, search for missing people and luggage, or find a higher vantage point—had failed due to deep snow, towering peaks, and freezing nights. Nando Parrado, however, decided to make one final effort while he still had strength. “I knew the mountains were against me,” he later wrote. “But I was already a dead man.”

Parrado persuaded Roberto Canessa and Antonio Vizintín to join him. On December 12, the trio set out with dried meat and a makeshift sleeping bag. Recalling the co-pilot’s dying words about passing Curicó, they aimed for the western ridge, believing Chile’s green valleys lay just beyond.

Led by Parrado, the inexperienced and poorly equipped group ascended the steep mountain slope. On the third day, Parrado encountered a near-vertical ice wall covered in dense snow. Using his walking stick, he carved steps to climb it. Upon reaching the summit of the 15,092-foot (4600-meter) peak—named Mount Seler in honor of his father—Parrado realized the co-pilot’s claim about their proximity to the Andes’ edge was false. “Every direction was filled with snow-capped mountains, each as steep and daunting as the one I had just scaled,” Parrado later recounted.

Nando Parrado and Roberto Canessa spent nine grueling days trekking to escape the mountains.

With limited supplies and the need to inform the others, Vizintín was sent back to the plane. Using a suitcase as a makeshift sled, his return journey took just an hour. Meanwhile, Parrado and Canessa pressed onward.

The duo trekked for six more days, covering approximately 37 miles (60 kilometers), until they reached a lush valley filled with cattle. Across a wide river, they spotted three men. Despite being seen, their cries for help were drowned out by the rushing water. The men returned the following day, and one of them, Sergio Catalán, threw paper and a pen across the river using rocks. Parrado wrote down their identity and urgent need for rescue.

Catalán traveled nearly 75 miles (120 kilometers) to notify authorities, while Armando Serda found a river crossing to retrieve Parrado and Canessa. The exhausted and starving pair were taken to a farmer’s hut and given food. On December 22, a rescue team arrived but needed help locating the crash site. Parrado boarded a helicopter to guide them. Only a few survivors were evacuated that day, but four rescuers stayed behind with the others until helicopters returned the next morning.

The 16 survivors were hospitalized to recover from malnutrition, frostbite, and altitude sickness. All were severely underweight; Parrado, for example, had lost nearly half his body weight.

The remains of the deceased—except for Rafael Echavarren—were buried at the crash site.

The deceased were laid to rest in a communal grave at the crash site, marked by a cross and memorial plaque. Rafael Echavarren was the sole exception; he had requested burial in his homeland, and his remains were transported to his family mausoleum in Uruguay.

Some survivors and their families make regular pilgrimages to the crash site, a journey requiring several days of hiking or horseback riding. Seler Parrado visited annually for 18 years to honor his wife and daughter; his ashes were later buried there. Eduardo Strauch, a survivor, frequently returns as co-director of Alpine Expeditions, a tour company founded by Ricardo Peña, who discovered and returned Strauch’s wallet in 2005.

The survivors gather every year on December 22.

Each December 22, the survivors reunite to mark the anniversary of their rescue and honor those who perished. In 2022, the 50th anniversary, they celebrated in a unique way. “We took a photo of 147 people alive because we survived. This is a story of life,” Parrado told The Guardian. On the 40th anniversary in 2012, they finally played the rugby match they had been traveling to in 1972.

Six survivors have authored books detailing their harrowing experience.

Piers Paul Read’s Alive: The Story of the Andes Survivors (1974) remains the most well-known account, drawing heavily on personal interviews. However, six survivors have since penned their own memoirs, offering deeper insights into their 72-day ordeal. Nando Parrado’s Miracle in the Andes (2006) was the first, followed by Eduardo Strauch’s Out of the Silence (2012), Pedro Algorta’s Into the Mountains (2014), Roberto Canessa’s I Had to Survive (2016), Carlitos Páez’s After the Tenth Day (2019), and Coche Inciarte’s Memories of the Andes (2020).

Several survivors made cameo appearances in Society of the Snow.

Three feature films have been made about the Andes plane crash. René Cardona’s Survive! (1976) was criticized by Roger Ebert as “dull and uninspired.” Frank Marshall’s Alive (1993) featured Parrado as a technical advisor, with Ethan Hawke portraying him. The latest, J. A. Bayona’s acclaimed Spanish-language film Society of the Snow (2023), has won numerous awards and critical praise.

Bayona’s film includes eight cameos from survivors and one from a family member. Notable appearances include Parrado, who opens a door at the airport for his on-screen counterpart Agustín Pardella; Canessa, who plays a doctor behind actor Matías Recalt; and Páez, who portrays his own father announcing the survivors’ names on the radio.