Sunday, 1. may 2005 , Red Lake. We picked a thread that could possibly get us some decent paid, aeronautically interesting jobs for a local initiative, the Whitefeather forest initiative. Victoria was the usual invaluable help to actually get the contracts signed. The contracts cover a handful of flights and missions, ranging from simple outpost cargo delivery, pax transport to the thermographimetric surveillance of a selected group of wood areas to determine the biological activity under the influence of the experimental WFS forest management procedures. At least most of the jobs looked quite interesting from a nomads viewpoint: much sky, plenty of water to land on and insane amounts of pure, untouched wilderness and and wildlife. And Cpt. Hak does like wild life, you know.

The above picture show just one of the many moments of excellence I experienced while doing my job for Sabourin Lake Airways. I refrain from going into details, since the part of my today PIREP you probably want to read is the one about how my DHC-2, C-GFIQ, and I went down in misery...

So here we go.

David Gerow, CBC journalist and his camera man planned to fly with us and film a documentary movie about the research project. But the short system test flight in the turbulent morning air was already too much for them. They declined to come with us in the second flight of the day, when the winds had already become quite significant. Like some 45 to 55 kts and gusts up to 85.

The weather was nasty. Hum, this is how I describe it in public... so the weather was, yes, well below CBC (cockpit bikini conditions), yet I was scheduled to fly my periodical infrared sensor run - a rather boring pattern starting in Pikangikum extending westwards to Clear lake, covering a stripe of approx. 25 nm width. It was a very important flight since just a few days before, a new area had been partially cut out and it was important to get data on the wildlife reaction (thermic hotspots moving around in patterns) and the change in the rate of metabolism in all living matter ( thermic background glow). So not going out and do it was out of question, except if safety would absolutely forbid it.

As usual in such circumstances, I try to get my hands on a terminal to ssh into Lago Espirito IT center network and access the highly confidential experimental weather forecast model. Gladly, the guys at Ear Falls allowed me to do so, and I retreived the "Local Storm Diagnosis - Transient Rain Integration Program" (called LSD TRIP) weather forecast. Based on this data, we decided the impact of not getting the infrared data is bigger than the risks for man and equipment from the predicted weather conditions. So... out we went, to the hangar. Mark, the scientific project leader, prepared and calibrated the infrared instruments while I worked through the preflight check routines. Soon after we took off and immediately found us in turbulent air.

  

When the rain started to knock on the windscreen Mark started to whistle "Bridge over troubled waters"... But all in all, it was flyable. And the sensors were working great, so it was at least worth the time we spent in this grey soup. We visited a few outposts and other lodges and places and it all began when we turned to 265°, heading for our next station: Little Grand Rapids. Suddenly, the cockpit atmosphere changed heavily, but it took me a second to realize what it was. No, the engine was running fine, but the electric system was gone. Dang! Radio gone, nav gone. Seat heater gone. Coffee machine dead! Emergency!

It was time to quickly find a bit of open water with not too many bumps, snags and shortsighted duck hunters. And the weather, of course, went from bad to worse in just two or three curses. I must confess that I said loud and clear: "I love this part of Canada since it has no mountains here!". Me, a swiss, saying that! Can yu imaine what I went through?

For a moment, it looked grim. Some times loosing ground sight for a second or two, visual range down to 2 nm at best. No useable river or lake here. This country consists of bazillions of lakes, but when you need them they're gone. It's incredible.



Finally Mark spotted a long enough water mass to our right, and I put the DHC2 into a steep turn and tried to put us in a good alignement with the lake and performed three low passes to spot obstacles and to get used to the wind situation there. Now, this was like IFR without instruments... I was sweating like a black camel in the desert. But as you can tell from Mark's and my presence, it went well enough to survive.

After landing, we secured the plane with anchors and additional tows from the struts to the next few trees. Then I tried to contact anyone, but the radio was really dead and I was unable to determine the cause. Luckily, I had my handheld radio with me so I contacted Sabourin HQ. Obviously, only partially successfull. We had to eat more beans than we liked, but hey, neither Mark nor I would have been able to cut a fish's belly up and rip this poor creature's innards out... so it was beans, roots and water. And I can't cook beans, and Mark can't cook at all. But beside that, we had a good time since I stealthly used some of Nanny's dream spices mixture to add some kick to the food. We laughed a lot, I must say.

Then, suddenly Cpt. Brick flew atop of our heads and we felt like being found by the mother after being lost in the wood for days! Thank you, all of you who whave cared about a fellow pilot. It is this unselfish attitude that make you shine.

I will have to look with Mark and others to repair the plane and, even more important, to get the instrument and the collected data!

Clear skies
Cpt.Hak