Around 1989-1990, there was in Iqaluit, on Baffin Island, a very quiet Inuit living in the same eight floor building as I did. He spent his free time reading while walking, lost in his thoughts like a priest. When we crossed each other on the street, we always exchanged polite greetings.
One evening, as I was about to leave my apartment to go to work the night shift at the Transport Canada flight service station (FSS), I saw in the corridor a man who was really going through an anger crisis, shouting and using all his determination to destroy a wall with a hammer. He was really going at it and the work was moving ahead very well…
I recognized that person that I was greeting almost on a daily basis and I was now facing a problem: To go work at the FSS station, I had to walk very close to him, since there was no other issue out of the building. Was he in such a crisis that he would not remember me?
I got closer and took the chance to pass just behind him. He suddenly stopped hitting the wall, turned around with the hammer in his hand and looked at me. Then he calmly said, like the gentlemen that he usually was: “Good evening!” I replied then walked about ten meters toward the exit before I heard him shout and hit the wall again.
The least I can say is that, some nights, you could witness the most bizarre situations. And when that was preceding a night shift, in an isolated Arctic post, you sometimes had the feeling to be living in a surreal world.
I do not know how the story ended. The next morning, back from the night shift, I entered a building where everything was peaceful. The only trace left by the man in crisis was a damaged wall. Very soon, somebody would come and repair the wall and that event would rapidly be erased from memories.
(Precedent story: Iqaluit FSS and the Persian Gulf War)
I still have fond memories of a pilot who came up to visit the flight service specialists (FSS) at the Transport Canada flight service station in Iqaluit, in1990, during an icy Christmas evening. This Saab-Scania pilot had arrived from United States and he intended to cross the Atlantic toward Europe.
But the extreme cold prevailing in Iqaluit, on Baffin Island, had complicated the ground operations. The pilot’s tight schedule as well as the reduced services in effect for the Christmas holidays had given him all sorts of problems. Through his entire ordeal, he kept a professional attitude and we did everything possible to get him out of trouble.
Just before he left the flight service station, he asked us our name and mailing address in Iqaluit. Finally, once all his problems had been taken care of, he took-off from Canada towards his next stopover. Weeks went by and one day, my colleague and I each received a package from Sweden. It was a book about the Saab-Scania story and, inside, there was this little note: “With thanks for the help at Christmas”!
(Next story: A freelance demolition worker in Iqaluit)
In August 1990, Iraq invaded Kuwait. This invasion was unanimously condemned, even by countries that are traditionally aligned with Iraq. The United Nations reacted by giving Iraq up to January 15th 1991 to withdraw. But Saddam Hussein’s attitude clearly showed that there would be no withdrawal and that he intended to proceed with Kuwait annexation to the Iraqi territory.
Understanding that military force would obviously be necessary, United States (representing a coalition of 34 countries) started preparing for the conflict. Aircraft movements increased and short range military aircrafts that would have to cross the Atlantic used Iqaluit, on Baffin Island, as a stopover before continuing through Greenland, Iceland, Europe and finally the Middle East.
Starting summer 1990, the Iqaluit airport then became one of the mandatory stopovers towards Middle East for some military aircrafts. Soon we could see L-382s carrying large size items and some OV-10 Broncos painted with desert colors landing in Iqaluit. Later on during autumn, other specially equipped aircrafts like the U.S.Army RU-21 Guardrail Common Sensor also made stopovers in Iqaluit.
A Southern Air Transport L-382 also landed in Iqaluit. That company was sometimes used by the CIA for its operations.
As soon as a flight service specialist (FSS) was not busy with radio communications, he would head toward the briefing counter to receive the military pilots who had come to obtain the mandatory weather and flight planning information that would be used to safely cross the Atlantic.
HF frequencies used for international communications at the local Transport Canada flight service station were really busy. On top of the regular air traffic services normally associated with commercial aircrafts crossing the Atlantic, we were now dealing with the radio communications associated with numerous military cargo aircrafts like the C-5s Galaxy and others.
In the two weeks preceding the United Nations ultimatum, between January 1st and 15th 1991, the Iqaluit flight service station recorded a 266 % increase against the same period in 1990 in oceanic traffic transiting through its airport. Flights were mostly related with private or chartered business jets linked to international banks, petroleum companies and military organizations preparing for the events to come. We received, among others, aircraft types like the G1, G2, G3, G4, HS25, DA50, DA90, CL60, C550, LR25 and B-727.
One night of January 1991, while we were at work, one member of the staff took-off his headphones and calmly told me: “Son, the war has started”.
I will remember that special period since we did not receive a military training but, nonetheless, we witnessed and dealt with the preparation and aircraft movements associated with a major military conflict.
Moreover, for a short period, the Iqaluit airport reverted to the use it had initially been planned and built for in 1942, during the Second World War, which was a base created for short-range military aircrafts heading to Europe.
(Precedent story: the lady who was robbed before my eyes)
On a 1989 autumn night in Iqaluit, on Baffin Island, Sterling’s Boeing 727 arrived from Europe and parked near the fuel tanks. From the Transport Canada flight service station tower (FSS), we could see the Canadian Customs and RCMP vehicles parked near the airplane, which was unusual. There was something going on as there were many people standing by the rear door of the plane, moving from one vehicle to the other. That was sure a lengthy stopover.
Few days later, on October 2nd 1989, the Journal de Montréal (one of the Montreal newspaper) published the following article: “[my translation] Two Polish citizen who had planned to request asylum in Newfoundland during the technical stopover of their plane on a flight from Gdansk to Vancouver were told on Saturday, by Canadian authorities, that the plane had landed in Canada’s far North”.
The article continues: “[my translation] The two men, whose identity was kept secret, still requested political asylum, said a RCMP police officer from Iqaluit, on Baffin Island in the Arctic. The Polish citizens, who were on a trip to relieve some fishermen on the west coast of Canada, thought they were in St John’s, Newfoundland capital, indicated the policeman in charge, Corporal Gary Asels”.
“The custom officer, using a map, showed them where Iqaluit [in the Nunavut] was located (2100 kilometers north of Montreal). They could not care less, as long as they were in Canada. They were very happy to be here, commented corporal Asels”.
I was told that in order to succeed with their escape from the plane, they had chosen a seat close to the rear stairway of the Boeing 727. They made sure to look like they were sleeping. When the stairway was lowered and the surveillance suspended for a quick moment, the two men just escaped through the stairway and were immediately on Canadian soil.
I am unfortunately unable to confirm today if they have been received as Canadian citizen or if they have been sent back in their country of origin.
(Precedent story: two airline captains forced to delay their departure from Iqaluit)
Iqaluit, Nunavut, 1990. One day, just as I was getting out for a walk, a young lady came to me asking that I catch a thief who had just stolen her handbag. Such a request coming from somebody living in a huge city would not have been surprising, but I never thought that I would hear that in a small city like Iqaluit. I initially thought it was a joke and wondered where the hidden cameras where positioned but when I turned around, I saw a man running away with something in his hand.
I instinctively started running after the man and, as I was closing in on him, he had a choice to make: he either slowed down and I caught up with him or he kept the pace while going down a slope made of huge rocks with sharp edges. He chose the second option and started jumping from one rock to the other, lost his balance, and fell head first against the rocks.
Still lying down and with blood all over his face, he saw me closing in progressively until I was just beside him. I requested the bag but he refused to give it back. He certainly expected me to beat him up, but I was not there to give anybody a lesson. I waited a bit, until he calmed down. I then asked him a second time to give me the handbag. He finally agreed.
The man stood back up, barely noticing the blood he had on his face. Without saying a word, he started following me while I was slowly going uphill to meet the lady. Every now and then, I turned around to ensure that he was not coming toward me with a knife or a rock in his hand. Once on flat ground, I meet the lady and give her the handbag. Eventually, the thief caught up with us and the lady started shouting at him, using me as a shield in case the man lost his temper. I did not need another crisis now that everything was settled.
When she was done with him, the thief tried to get closer to me. I made sure to keep the length of an arm between the two of us in order to avoid a sucker punch. I had trouble understanding that after such an incident, the man had chosen to walk with us, like nothing ever happened. He finally said his first words: “You run fast, like Ben Johnson!”
Finally, after a short walk, the three of us arrived exactly where everything had initially started. The incident had been dealt with and the lady decided that she would not call the police. She went away after thanking me, the man returned to the bar where he came from, and I was finally able to take a walk in Iqaluit’s peaceful atmosphere, few hours before going back to work at the Transport Canada flight service station (FSS).
(Next story: two Polish asylum seekers in Iqaluit)
(Precedent story: the « Amalgam Chief » military exercise: B-52 bombers in northern Canada).
This story is about a 1990 winter day where very bad weather conditions prevailed in Iqaluit, on Baffin Island, Canada. Bad as it was, the weather still allowed for takeoffs. Two airline companies, respectively owning a Boeing 727 and 737 had completed the boarding and expected to be airborne shortly. The weather deteriorating even more, the Transport Canada flight service specialists (FSS) had to tell the pilots that they could not proceed with the takeoff as the airport was now under the minimum visibility criteria.
The aircrafts were ready, the engines running and the pilots could not takeoff. There was a bit of tension in the air and the pilots finally decided that they would take a chance and takeoff under unacceptable conditions. The two captains were reminded by the FSS that if they tried to takeoff in the prevailing visibility, which was under legal minimums, an occurrence report would be filed against them.
The flight service specialist naturally received a reply in line with the pilot’s impatience. Nevertheless, the pilots took a second look at the weather and, thinking of a possible occurrence report, decided to delay both takeoffs.
In being so impatient to complete their flight, those captains were neglecting that there is always the possibility of an engine failure or other major emergency on takeoff. If they had lost an engine just after being airborne, it would have been impossible to return back to Iqaluit due to the extremely low visibility; they would have been forced to fly a very long distance with one less engine to get to their alternate airport, increasing the risks for the safety of the passengers.
The threat of a potential occurrence report, which has always been the prerogative of air traffic services, forced the pilots to wait for appropriate weather conditions.
(Next story: the lady who was robbed before my eyes)
(Precedent story: Iqaluit and the old American military base (Frobisher Bay)
In October 1989, Stacey Campbell wrote an article in News North that she titled: “Military Jets Fill the Arctic Skies”. She explained that NORAD (North American Air Defence) regularly held exercises aimed at testing the capacity of Canada’s new radar defense system to detect potential enemies approaching from the north.
The interviewed military officer told Stacey that CF-18 fighter jets, tankers and B-52 bombers, among other types, would be part of the operation. The CF-18’s would temporarily be stationed in Iqaluit, on Baffin Island, and Inuvik for the duration of the exercise. Other types of aircrafts were also involved in that annual test, like the F-15, T-33 and possibly the AWAC although the latter did not land in Iqaluit.
The local Transport Canada flight service specialists (FSS) had to deal with the tight operating schedule provided by a military officer as well as integrate the daily arrivals and departures of private and commercial aircrafts.
At the time, the most useful taxiway, one which was located near the end of runway 35, could not be used since the terrain was too soft. All the aircrafts using runway 35 were forced to backtrack that runway before it could be cleared for other incoming or departing aircrafts. The additional time required for that procedure sometimes gave headaches to the military officer sitting by our side.
I remember that the military officer in charge of the mission told us: “If the jets cannot takeoff within the next minute, the mission will be aborted”. It just happened that during the tight window within which the CF-18’s had to be airborne that day, there were many commercial aircrafts like the Avro 748, Twin Otter, Boeing 727 and 737 and other executive aircrafts operating around Iqaluit. There was always a way to please everybody and the military exercise ended the way it was initially planned.
This was a period much appreciated by the flight service specialists (FSS) since, for one week during the year, our operations changed radically: we had to respect the imperative needs related to the military exercise as well as continue to provide regular air traffic services.
It was brought to our attention, for having discussed with many pilots involved in the exercise that military forces were kind enough to offer, through our Transport Canada manager, few posters signed by pilots of squadrons involved in the “Amalgam Chief” exercise. Although the manager never deemed necessary to show his staff even one of those posters, I appreciated the gesture from the pilots.
(Next story: two airline captains forced to delay their departure from Iqaluit)
(Precedent story: carrying a .357 Magnum to Iqaluit)
Before retelling some of the events that happened while I was working at the Transport Canada flight service station in Iqaluit, in the Nunavut (1989-1991), it is mandatory to present few important dates that will allow the reader to understand why the airport was initially an American military base.
1938. Hitler’s ambitions are such that Roosevelt deemed necessary to announce the following: “I give you assurance that the people of the United States will not stand idly by if domination of Canadian soil is threatened by any other empire ».
1939. Beginning of discussions between Canada and United States with regards to joint defense of the North American continent.
1940. Great-Britain was at risk of losing the war against a Germany that was progressing rapidly in its conquest of the European soil. When Denmark was defeated in autumn 1940, fear grew that the Germans would progress westward and establish operational military bases on the newly acquired territories.
Greenland belonging to a defeated Denmark, Germans would be using it to get closer to Canada. At the time, Greenland was the sole commercial source of cryolite, an essential component of aluminum used in aircraft production.
There was also a province which was not part of Canada in 1940 and which presented a strategic interest for an enemy in its war against Canada and United States: Newfoundland and Labrador.
In order for the war not to be fought directly on the North American territory, one had to keep the Germans busy in Europe. It therefore meant that Great-Britain must not be defeated.
1941. Ships carrying short range fighting aircrafts from America to Europe were regularly attacked and sunk by U-boats. It was imperative to change the route. Canadians and Americans were looking for the best sites that could accommodate the construction of runways allowing short range military aircrafts to fly up to Prestwick, Scotland.
This new route was called “Crimson Route” and the stopovers were Goose Bay in Labrador, Fort Chimo (Kuujjuaq) in Quebec, Frobisher Bay (Iqaluit), on Baffin Island in the Nunavut as well as three sites in Greenland (Narsarsuaq, Angmagssalik and Sondre Stromfjord (Kangerlussuaq). The Frobisher Bay coded name became “Crystal Two” base.
1941-42. Germans established the first inhabited weather bases on the Greenland coast in order to facilitate U-Boats operations across the North Atlantic. When those sites were discovered, they were destroyed by American commandos.
1942. U-Boats entered the St-Lawrence seaway and sank Canadian ships.
1942. The site initially chosen to establish the Frobisher Bay airport (the Crystal Two base) was Cromwell Island, located 20 miles south-west of today’s actual site for Iqaluit. This was until a new site was discovered (today’s site) that favored the construction of longer runways and allowed the beaching of flatboats loaded with cargo during the summer period.
A ships convoy carrying thousands of tons of cargo planned for the construction of the Frobisher Bay base arrived at destination. This convoy was nonetheless attacked by the U-517 U-Boat and the cargo-ship Chatham, carrying 6000 tons of material destined for Crystal One and Crystal Two bases was sank.
1943. An German automated weather station was built at Martin Bay, in Labrador, to facilitate the U-Boats operations. This weather station is now in permanent exhibition at the war museum in Ottawa. Pictures have been found were we can see smiling but armed German soldiers taking the pose near the automated weather station. Canada accidently learned about the existence of that weather station in 1980.
Many German officers and soldiers who were captured in Europe were sent abroad while waiting for the end of the war. My grandparents, who owned a farm in St-Ignace, Quebec, became responsible, over time, for one German officer and two soldiers. They had only good comments on the behavior and desire of the prisoners to help on the farm.
1943. Both Frobisher Bay runways were now operational, although without being totally completed. The engineers did not have the knowledge of the Russians when it came to maintaining airport runways in the Arctic. Damages caused by permafrost were significant and the runways necessitated a lot of maintenance. The water present under the runways would sometimes surface suddenly and create five meter deep holes. Those runways needed a constant effort to remain usable.
The first runway to be built was eventually abandoned due to a wrong evaluation of the prevailing winds and the dangers associated with the surrounding elevated terrain. Today only remains the runway that we know in Iqaluit, although extended to 9000 feet. The year 1943 recorded 323 aircraft arrivals, of which only a small number made the complete trip to Europe.
1944. War took a new turn. The newly developed long range radars, allied to advanced technology in the detection and attack of submarines, radically diminished the U-Boats threat in North Atlantic. The “Crimson Route” airports were suddenly losing their pertinence. The Canadian government, worried about the massive presence of Americans in the Canadian Arctic, bought the airports from the American government.
1950. Canadians officially took control of the Frobisher Bay airport, but authorized an American presence since this airport had a new strategic importance in the cold war that followed Second World War. The weather station and runway maintenance were taken care of by American forces.
1951-53. A radar station was built on a hill northeast of runway 17-35. This station completed what was then known as the Pinetree line. This line was made of several long range surveillance radar stations; it covered all of southern Canada and gradually curved towards the north to end up in Frobisher Bay. All those stations were inhabited and could order interceptions at all times against potential enemy forces, by means of jet aircrafts.
1955. Americans received the authorization from Canada to build a SAC [Strategic Air Command] military base where numerous KC-97 tankers were stationed in support of B-47 bombers operations carrying nuclear armament. The base was built in 1958 and, until the end of its operations in 1963, parking space was occupied by at least seven KC-97. The SAC base was not needed anymore after the new Boeing B-52 bombers and KC-135 tankers were developed.
A French-Canadian military from Quebec at work in Frobisher Bay
My uncle Gaston Gagnon was part of the French-Canadian military staff who was in service in Frobisher Bay. He volunteered for service during the Second World War (1939-1945).
He worked in the communication field during the Cold War and, after he died in 2016, I received some pictures that were taken in 1955 in Frobisher Bay. Those photos also witness of the American presence in Frobisher Bay.
1960. The runway was extended from 6000 to 9000 feet.
1961. The Frobisher Bay radar station, part of the Pinetree line, was closed but the Polevault station remained in activity.
1963. Americans left Frobisher Bay and gave control of the Polevault station to the DOT [Department of Transport], an older designation of Transport Canada.
1964. The radio operator, and later flight service specialist (FSS) Georges McDougall, arrived in Frobisher Bay. All the village inhabitants eventually got to know Georges since he provided air traffic services there for at least thirty-seven years, seven days a week, on shifts work. He progressively became a privileged witness of all the unusual events to happen in the village and at the airport.
Below is a picture of the old DOT hangar and tower.
1987. Frobisher Bay was renamed Iqaluit.
1989. Stacey Campbell wrote an article in News North that she titled: “Military Jets Fill the Arctic Skies”. She explained that NORAD (North American Air Defence) regularly held exercises aimed at testing the capacity of Canada’s new radar defense system to detect potential enemies approaching from the north.
The interviewed military officer told Stacey that CF-18 fighter jets, tankers and B-52 bombers, among other types, would be part of the operation. The CF-18’s would temporarily be stationed in Iqaluit, on Baffin Island, and Inuvik for the duration of the exercise. Other types of aircrafts were also involved in that annual test, like the F-15, T-33 and possibly the AWAC although the latter did not land in Iqaluit.
The local Transport Canada flight service specialists (FSS) had to deal with the tight operating schedule provided by a military officer as well as integrate the daily arrivals and departures of private and commercial aircrafts.
At the time, the most useful taxiway, one which was located near the end of runway 35, could not be used since the terrain was too soft. All the aircrafts using runway 35 were forced to backtrack that runway before it could be cleared for other incoming or departing aircrafts. The additional time required for that procedure sometimes gave headaches to the military officer sitting by our side.
I remember that the military officer in charge of the mission told us: “If the jets cannot takeoff within the next minute, the mission will be aborted”. It just happened that during the tight window within which the CF-18’s had to be airborne that day, there were many commercial aircrafts like the Avro 748, Twin Otter, Boeing 727 and 737 and other executive aircrafts operating around Iqaluit. There was always a way to please everybody and the military exercise ended the way it was initially planned.
This was a period much appreciated by the flight service specialists (FSS) since, for one week during the year, our operations changed radically: we had to respect the imperative needs related to the military exercise as well as continue to provide regular air traffic services.
It was brought to our attention, for having discussed with many pilots involved in the exercise that military forces were kind enough to offer, through our Transport Canada manager, few posters signed by pilots of squadrons involved in the “Amalgam Chief” exercise. Although the manager never deemed necessary to show his staff even one of those posters, I appreciated the gesture from the pilots.
1993. In order to replace a DEW line that had become obsolete, Canadians and Americans jointly built a new base that would now be used for logistical support for the new North Warning System.
2006. Extreme cold tests were held in Iqaluit by Airbus for the A-380, the biggest passenger aircraft in the world.
2014. Extreme cold tests were held by Airbus for its new A-350 XWB.
2015. Canada was the host of the Arctic Council Ministerial Meeting in Iqaluit. The Council is composed of the following countries: Canada, Sweden, Denmark, Finland, Iceland, Norway, Russia and United States. Joining the meeting were senior representatives of indigenous organisations holding the status of permanent participants.
Dassault completes several cold-soak trials in Iqaluit for its Falcon 6X
Pope Francis visits Iqaluit during his Canadian trip aimed at healing and reconciliation with Indigenous groups and residential school survivors.
2024. An Air France Boeing 797-900 makes an emergency landing in Iqaluit due to a burning smell reported by passengers.
(Next story: The military exercise “Amalgam Chief”: B-52 bombers in northern Canada)
(Precedent document: Aviation photography: Rouyn-Noranda aircraft photos during 1986-1988 (Part three of three)
In 1988, I left Rouyn-Noranda for the Transport Canada flight service station, on Baffin Island. Iqaluit is Nunavut’s Capital and a designated port of entry to Canada for international air and marine transportation. Located at the crossroads of both polar and high North Atlantic air routes, Iqaluit airport can handle any type of aircraft.
I had to learn new tasks linked to ICAO responsibilities toward international air traffic crossing the Atlantic Ocean, as well as continue to act as a flight service specialist (FSS) and provide air traffic services.
The departure would be made from the Montreal Pierre-Elliott-Trudeau international airport. I decided to bring my .357 Magnum revolver with which I had been training for several years. Official papers authorized me to carry the gun from my home to the Montreal airport. Once there, I headed to a counter where an agent gave me another document allowing me to carry the revolver in the Nordair Boeing 737 leaving for Iqaluit.
There was no stipulation that the gun had to be left in the cockpit. I went through the security zone. The .357 Magnum was in a small case, in an Adidas sport bag. The bag was put on a moving strap, like any other hand luggage, in order to be checked by a security agent. The bag was not open by the agent; he looked at the screen, saw what was in the bag and that was it. I thought at the time that he might have received special instructions that I knew nothing about.
I was a bit surprised at the easiness with which I could carry a gun, but having never tried it before, since I was not a policeman, I concluded that it was the way things were done when all the papers and requests had been filed accordingly. The screening process being completed, I went outside and walked towards the Boeing 737.
A female flight attendant was greeting all the passengers. I presented her my airplane ticket just as I was ready to board the plane and she immediately asked me if the gun was in the bag I was carrying, and if it was loaded. My answers being acceptable, she invited me to go to my seat.
Once comfortably seated, I placed my Adidas bag under the front passenger’s seat instead of the elevated compartments along the aisles. I wanted to be able to see the bag at all times. The airplane took-off and it was a smooth flight to Iqaluit.
Three years passed and came the time to be transferred at the Transport Canada flight service station in Québec City (CYQB). The world had certainly changed during those three years isolated up in the Arctic. In 1989, Marc Lépine got known for the massacre, with a firearm, of fourteen women studying at the Montreal Polytechnic School.
I headed to the Iqaluit RCMP office in order to fill the appropriate documents that would allow me to carry the gun back to Québec City, a gun that would be sold few months after my arrival at destination. The police officer signed the papers and told me that the revolver would be kept in the Boeing 737’s cockpit.
I asked him, in case it was still allowed, if I had the liberty to carry it in my bag and put it under the front passenger’s seat, like I did for the inbound flight. He looked at me and clearly did not believe a word I had just said. But that did not matter. The gun would travel in the cockpit with the pilots and I would claim it once at destination.
When I think again about this story, almost thirty years later, I realize how the world has dramatically changed. There was a time where I could head to the Montreal international airport with my family to watch the landings and takeoffs from an exterior elevated walkway opened to the general public. From this same walkway, chimney smokers would negligently throw away their still smoking cigarette butts in an area where fuel trucks were operating.
The airport’s management eventually forbid the access to the outside walkway after having received too many complaints from passengers who rightfully claimed that their suitcases had been damaged by cigarette butts thrown from the walkway…
(Next story: Iqaluit and the old American military base)