The system was a symbol of modern leisure, a graceful line of cabins gliding 55 meters above the Keppel Harbour. It connected the main island of Singapore to the resort of Sentosa. The journey took minutes, offering panoramic views of ships and water.
At 6:07 p.m. on January 29, the Panamanian-registered floating oil rig *Eniwetok* was under tow. Its route intersected the cable car’s path. The rig’s derrick snagged the moving cables. They snapped with a sound witnesses described as a giant twang.
Two cabins, numbers 20 and 21, fell. They dropped straight down into the busy shipping lane, killing seven. The immediate horror was contained to those in the water. But a second, suspended drama began. Thirteen other cabins were left stranded along the broken line. Their occupants were trapped in small glass boxes, swaying in the darkening sky. Rescue was agonizingly slow, involving police launches and eventually, daring helicopter extractions that lasted hours. One cabin dangled directly above the rig itself. The accident was a violent collision of two different versions of transit: one for pleasure, one for industry. The quiet cable, designed for scenic solitude, was no match for the blind, steel momentum of the rig. The event fractured the skyline, replacing a line of serene motion with a jagged, hanging scar.