Real life stories as a FSS in Iqaluit

Carrying a .357 Magnum to Iqaluit

In 1988, I left Rouyn-Noranda for the Iqaluit 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 and provide airport advisory service.

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 Québec flight service station. The world had certainly changed during those three years isolated up north. 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, a gun that would be sold few months after my arrival at destination. The policeman 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…

Iqaluit and the old American military base (Frobisher Bay)

Before retelling some of the events that happened while I was working at the Iqaluit flight service station (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) 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 worked 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 installations.

1987. Frobisher Bay was renamed Iqaluit.

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.

2021. Dassault completes several cold-soak trials in Iqaluit for its Falcon 6X

2022. Pope Francis visits Iqaluit during his Canadian trip aimed at healing and reconciliation with Indegenous groups and residential school survivors.

The “Amalgam Chief” military exercice: B-52 Bombers in Northern Canada

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 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 Iqaluit 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 staff 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.

Two airline captains forced to delay their departure from Iqaluit

This story is about a 1990 winter day where very bad weather conditions prevailed. 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 flight service specialists 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. Nonetheless, 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.

Iqaluit: The lady who was robbed before my eyes

Iqaluit, 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 Iqaluit flight service station.

Two Polish asylum seekers in Iqaluit

On a 1989 autumn night in Iqaluit, Sterling’s Boeing 727 arrived from Europe and parked near the fuel tanks. From the flight service station tower (FSS), we could see the Canadian Customs and RCMP vehicles parked near the plane, 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 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 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.

Iqaluit FSS and the Persian Gulf War

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 will obviously be necessary, United States (representing a coalition of 34 countries) starts preparing for the conflict. Aircraft movements increase and short range military aircrafts that will have to cross the Atlantic use 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. 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 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 Iqaluit flight service station were really busy. On top of the regular radio contacts 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.

Iqaluit FSS and the Christmas of a Saab-Scania pilot

I still have fond memories of a pilot who came up to visit the FSS staff at the Iqaluit flight service station in 1990, 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 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”!

An improvised demolition worker in Iqaluit

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.

Pilots surprised by the extreme weather prevailing in Iqaluit

The Iqaluit flight service specialists were sometimes amazed by the type of clothing chosen by pilots who were ferrying aircrafts from Europe to America.

Small and mid-size aircrafts required a flight plan including a stopover in Iqaluit, since refueling was necessary. One would think that pilots would have prepared themselves for unexpected situations and plan according to the extreme weather conditions prevailing at some of the airports along their route to America.

The FSS staff witnessed, on numerous occasions, small jets experience serious problems while refueling under very cold temperature. While the tanks were being filled up, the tires were deflating progressively.

A small delay in the operations and the engines did not start anymore. The pilots got out of their aircraft, wearing only a thin leather jacket and summer shoes. Trying to protect themselves from the bitter cold, they gesticulated while talking with the fuel man who, himself, was wearing a thick Arctic suit that protected him from head to toes.

A thin leather jacket and summer shoes were certainly appropriate for Southern Europe but far from being useful on the apron of an airport where the wind chill factor often varied between -50C and -65C. The aircraft sometimes had to be towed in a hangar in order to be warmed up for hours, if not the night, and the transit fees grew exponentially.

I suppose that a pilot who lived such an experience remembers it today as clearly as the FSS staff, but not for the same reasons. And it is almost certain that he prepared accordingly for the next ferry flight.

Canada: Iqaluit FSS and the 1989 solar storm

1989 was a problematic year for the Iqaluit flight service specialists attempting to communicate by means of HF frequencies with airliners crossing the North Atlantic.

As usual, we tried to get position reports at 60, 70 and 80 degree west in order to ensure that the Montreal, Gander, Winnipeg and Edmonton area control centers could maintain ten minutes or eighty nautical miles between each aircraft. We had to note the route, the actual and next position of the aircrafts, the different time, speed and altitude, this while we relayed ATC clearances.

But for many weeks in February and March, the radio communications were blocked by a solar storm that was strong enough to cause problems to the Hydro-Québec electrical network. The entire province of Quebec suffered an electrical power blackout that lasted nine hours on March 13th.

During a major solar storm, the full spectrum of HF frequencies can become useless for frequent periods varying from ten minutes to an hour.

I remember several problematic cases, among which one where an area control center controller asked us to contact an airliner to know if the pilot could climb to 37,000 feet once at 70 degree west. The question was transmitted to the pilot and he immediately replied: “Roger, we are climbing 370”. He had not received any clearance to change his altitude but he was nonetheless starting to climb where there was no adequate separation between him and other aircrafts.

We replied multiple times: “Negative, this is a question, this is not a clearance, do not climb to flight level 370”, but the pilot never replied back due to the poor quality of HF communications. The control center was quickly called back and advised of the situation.

For the remaining period of the solar storm, the flight service specialists were questioned about the actual quality of the HF communications before any punctual requests was sent on radio in order to avoid problems.

The Sultan of Brunei stops in Iqaluit in the Canadian Arctic

The Iqaluit airport is a popular stopover for short and mid-range aircrafts needing to refuel when overflying the Canadian Arctic. Its 8,600 feet can accommodate all types of aircrafts. Airbus aircrafts like the A380, the A350-XWB and the A330-200F were tested there during several days to evaluate their performance under extreme cold temperatures.

Well-known actors, princes and princesses (among them some members of the British Monarchy) and many political personalities stopped in Iqaluit throughout the years. Even Nelson Mandela stopped by Iqaluit on his return trip from United States.

Around 1989-1990, the Sultan of Brunei and his suite also stopped in Iqaluit. The flight service specialists were surprised to see that a Boeing 727 was not enough to accommodate the Sultan as two Gulfstream American business jets also landed few minutes before the 727.

Once the three aircrafts were parked on the apron, the Boeing 727’s front door was opened, a stairway was lowered and staff members rolled out a long red carpet. Two women got out of the airplane and started sweeping the whole carpet and, few minutes later, the Sultan stepped out for a walk and a breath of fresh air.

In less than an hour, the refueling was completed and everyone got back onboard their respective aircraft and left for Europe. It was the first time I was witnessing such a deployment of resources to carry a monarch.

But I had seen nothing yet. Few years later, I was transferred to the Quebec flight service station, which would later become the Quebec Flight Information Center under Nav Canada. There, I could witness, with other air traffic services staff members, the frenzy surrounding the arrival of the President of United States, Georges W. Bush, for the 2001 Summit of the Americas. That was certainly beyond measure…

Aviation photography: Air UK Leisure B737-4YO G-UKLB

In 1982, Air UK ceased its charter flight operation. But five years later, the company was back in that business, under the name of Air UK Leisure. It started its operation by using three Boeing 737-200s but soon realized more aircrafts would be needed. In 1988, Air UK Leisure ordered seven new 737-400s, the first of their type in Europe.

Those 737-400s, built at Boeing Field in Seattle, had to fly to Europe by passing over northern Canada. The aircrafts could not do that long trip without stopping for fuel. They landed at the Iqaluit airport, on Baffin Island, Canada.

In the unique picture above, you can see one of those new Boeings, a B737-4YO, G-UKLB.

During the same period, many companies having recently acquired some B737-400s and 500s did the same trip from Seattle to Europe by stopping in Iqaluit. Among those, Aer Lingus and Hapag-Lloyd.

Iqaluit drug haven

In 1990, Stacey Campbell, a News North journalist, wrote an article that she titled: “Iqaluit Drug Haven”. She wrote that the Iqaluit airport was the main point of arrival for the entire drug being used all over the Baffin Island region. Mail was also another tool used by drug trafficker. It was quite easy to find marijuana, hashish and cocaine.

On the top floor of the eight stories building in which I lived, there were an increasing number of drug users. While only a year ago the place was relatively quiet, it was not the case anymore. From my small apartment, I could hear the shouting in the corridor or in the neighbouring rooms and the “OPEN THE DOOR!” ordered by the RCMP police officers.

There were cases of domestic violence, fights, people which I had to step over to walk in the corridor as they were lying down on the floor in their vomit, totally intoxicated. Near where I lived, somebody was thrown out of an apartment in a rather radical way: the door and its fittings were now missing and there was blood on the wall. The place is far less peaceful than last year.

In a nearby room, several drug users met, mostly on Friday nights. Quite often, tension rose between card games. The place had become unsuitable for somebody trying to rest while on a seven days a week shift work at the Iqaluit flight service station.

I remember one time when somebody started to kick on my door while I was studying quietly in my room. I could hear him shout: “I am going to kick your ass!” Since I had no idea of what was going on and as it seemed that I was directly concerned, I opened the door.

I then recognized a person whom I politely asked, at least six months ago, to try to lower the noise level. All those months went by and tonight, in an altered state, he suddenly remembered that request. He visibly took my request as a personal insult. He was now under the influence of an unknown substance and was angry.

He was standing in the corridor. Any moderate reaction on my part seemed useless, considering his situation. It appeared that only a quick and radical move would bear some success.

I tried to slowly close the door but he blocked it with his hand. The situation was getting worse. I waited few seconds and tried again, calmly and without a word. In few seconds, if nothing was working, there would only be one solution left. I gently pressed on the door and he totally surprised me by letting go so that in about twenty seconds, the door was closed again.

All this was done in total silence. In my room, I stood few feet away from the door, expecting it to be slammed open but nothing happened. Only that silence all around. After few minutes of having stood still, waiting for the next logical step, I realized that everything was over. What a weird night! This would not have ended the same way in a big city down South.

I can really say that in 1990, Iqaluit was in fact a drug heaven. Moreover, the floor where I had my room was no exception. I was eventually able to move to another floor where there were people with a more balanced lifestyle and the need to sleep once in a while…

Iqaluit FSS and the overloaded DC-8

On a summer day of 1989, a DC-8-63F took-off from Iqaluit airport’s runway 36, heading towards Los Angeles. In order to do the flight without any stopovers, the tanks had been topped. The combined fuel, passengers and cargo weight required an extremely long ground run before the wheels could leave the runway.

Viewed from the flight service station tower, it seemed to us that the pilot had waited until the last moment to pull on the stick. Once airborne, the aircraft flew horizontally and stayed very low over the flat terrain to profit from the ground effect.

However, few kilometers from the threshold of runway 18, the terrain started to rise enough to request a positive climb rate. The pilot slightly pulled on the stick but avoided any turn to maximize lift.

Using binoculars, we watched the aircraft as it should have made a left turn a long time ago. When the turn was finally attempted, the aircraft started to sink and lose much of the altitude precedently gained. We could follow the changes of altitude through the long trails of dark smoke left behind the aircraft.

Realizing the plane was not ready to turn yet as it was going down, the pilot had started to fly it horizontally again. Moments later, the pilot tried again and the aircraft made a five to ten degree bank before starting to climb very gently. The aircraft would not have handled anything more.

It was the first time that we were considering pressing the red button used to alert airport emergency services. But this would not have been very useful since very little help could have been provided quickly enough, taking into account the position of the aircraft, its enormous amount of fuel on board and the total absence of roads in that isolated region.

Ravens fly under -85C around the Iqaluit flight service station

February 1990 in Iqaluit. Activities have slowed down a bit today. A temperature of -43C combined with 35 mph north-west winds means that the wind chill factor has gone down to -85C (NOAA Wind Chill Chart). We see far fewer pedestrians and even less motor vehicles on the city’s few roads. Many engines refuse to start and the motor oil has almost the consistency of maple taffy.

A special day indeed as, from the Iqaluit flight service station tower, we can watch a very interesting performance. Huge ravens have picked that very windy day to have fun, regardless of the temperature. Flying under the wind near the FSS cab, they benefit from the venturi effect. There is no need flapping their wings. They just glide while occasionally correcting the angle of attack to adjust for the gusting wind.

The wind chill factor affecting living organisms, I find it quite spectacular to see those huge black birds having fun while we would expect that, with a -85C factor, ravens which must not absolutely fly would stay under cover until the weather improves a bit.

We can clearly hear the noise made by the wind on the wings of a huge raven when it glides over us. One day, I was walking near the Apex village under total silence. Suddenly I heard a raven glide low over my head. He was possibly checking if there was anything eatable out of that deformed shape transformed by multiple layers of winter clothing. There was only the rustling of the wind on its large open wings and no other sound. That was a very special experience.

Iqaluit FSS and the sleeping pilots

In the early 1990s, I was working at the Transport Canada flight service station (FSS) in Iqaluit, providing air traffic services. While I was in charge of the HF radio communications allowing the tracking of transoceanic flights, I received a call from a controller asking me to try to contact an airliner of a big European company.

Their pilots had crossed 60 degree west without communicating with Iceland radio and it was now necessary to ensure that the projected passage time for 70 degree West and the altitude of the aircraft were still valid.

I tried to communicate with the crew using all means at my disposal, among which the SELCAL system which sent an alarm signal on board the aircraft. Nothing worked. Other airliners flying nearby the aircraft were requested to help by trying some calls on VHF emergency frequencies. But again, there were no replies.

Suddenly, about one hour after the moment that the pilots should have given some sign of life, I received an answer to my repeated calls. I told the crew that all the efforts had been made to contact them but without success. I asked them an official position report and an estimate for the next mandatory point of contact. Calmly, the pilot answered that he did not know why I had not received his calls and he immediately prepared an official position report.

It was kind of strange that on a day where the HF reception was excellent, and when all other companies were communicating with Iqaluit radio without any problem, this company stayed silent for such a long period of time.

I finally received the new position report but it clearly looked like an invention. If the data provided by the crew was correct, this aircraft would successfully fly 400 nautical miles in the next ten minutes. It would mean that at this speed, the crew expected to cross most of Canada in about one hour.

I advised the pilot to redo his calculations since, visibly, he seemed to have no idea of his position. He came back with new numbers, very different this time, which match what was expected.

I guessed that during the long transatlantic flight, both pilots slowly fell asleep while the automatic pilot kept the aircraft in flight. Suddenly woken up by the multiple calls, the crew did not take into account the movement of the aircraft during the hour where everybody was asleep and, worried not to get caught, rapidly transmitted totally erroneous calculations.

Nonetheless, the story ended well since the crew, now rested, provided exact information for the following position reports, allowing for a safe flight until destination.

Iqaluit FSS and the Trans Ocean Airlines DC-8

In 1989, News North journalist Cam Lockerbie wrote an article about the misadventure of passengers who were forced to stay longer than expected in Iqaluit because of a stopover that went wrong.

A Trans Ocean Airways DC-8 on a flight from San Francisco to Great Britain had stopped in Iqaluit, on Canada’s Baffin Island in the Nunavut, to refuel but experienced some problems during the refueling process. The aircraft would not be able to depart before the next day and 220 passengers had to find a place to sleep in Iqaluit.

Impressive efforts were deployed to help those stranded passengers since there was far from enough hotel rooms to accommodate everyone. Eventually, the passengers were dispersed throughout the town and, although there were not enough beds for everyone, there was at least a roof provided for the night.

The spare parts needed for the broken DC-8 were delivered by charter jet directly from United States. After the repair was done, the DC-8 attempted to move but faced another problem. It had to find enough space to manoeuver between a hangar and an American Trans Air  Lockheed L-1011 that was refueling. An airline company employee was requested to guide the DC-8 and ensure that it would not come into contact with the L-1011 or the hangar.

The newspaper article mentioned that the aircraft was not able to move past the hangar and that part of the wing had to be dismantled. What the journalist did not write, certainly because he ignored it, is that there was a contact between the hangar door and the wing tip, in spite of the person walking in front of the DC-8, like you can see on the picture above taken by an Iqaluit flight service station FSS.

On the return flight, the same DC-8 experienced an alternator problem but the engineer’s resourcefullness prevented the passengers to spend another night in Iqaluit. In the following year, the company declared bankruptcy.

Nelson Mandela stops by Iqaluit on his way to South Africa

On July 1st 1990, few months after having been released from twenty-seven years in jail, the South African President Nelson Mandela stopped in Iqaluit, on Baffin Island in the Nunavut. It was 03:30 AM and the aircraft had just arrived from Detroit in United States. Mandela participated in a special event linked to the three big American car manufacturers where he was invited to deliver a keynote speech.

I figured that this trip to Detroit must have brought him found memories since, in his autobiography, he mentioned that the first car he saw in his youth was a big black luxury car that he later recognized to be a Ford V8.

After Detroit, the jet carrying the Mandela couple followed an orthodromic line around the planet for the return to South Africa. It meant that a stopover for refuel was mandatory and Iqaluit, in Canada’s arctic, was chosen.

In anticipation for the VIPs arrival, the Transport Canada flight service station and the airport installations had been secured by the RCMP. Before meeting the VIP’s, the Mandela couple took some time to walk toward a group of persons outside the airport terminal. They discussed for a while, each group separated by the airport fence.

As reported by historian Kenn Harper in Nunatsiaq News in 2008, the security staff tried to rapidly bring back the Mandela couple inside as there were VIP’s waiting for them. But Mandela answered: “There are no more important people in this town tonight than these folks who have come out to talk with me. I’ll be in when I’ve finished speaking with them.”

In his memoir, Conversations with Myself, he wrote: “What struck me so forcefully was how small the planet had become during my decades in prison; it was amazing to me that a teenaged Inuit living at the roof of the world could watch the release of a political prisoner on the southern tip of Africa.”

As they entered the Transport Canada installations, Nelson and Winnie Mandela were greeted by several persons, among which Iqaluit’s Inuit chief. A ceremony was held in a room next to where I was working, one floor lower, under the flight service station (FSS) tower.

Around 04:00AM, I came down from the FSS tower to transmit an important message regarding the return flight. At the bottom of the stairs, positioned on the other side of the door, was a huge policeman blocking our staff from accessing the corridor.

I tapped lightly on the windowed door and showed him that I had an urgent message for Mandela’s entourage. He refused to budge. The smooth way not bearing any results, I used the necessary means to achieve success. This did not go without a bit of noise.

The policeman finally let me go through, knowing very well that all flight service specialists were screened for security on a regular basis. But looking at his facial expression, it is obvious that we were not friends anymore.

Obviously, all my attempts at opening the door disrupted the ceremony a bit. As I was delivering the message, I saw the Mandela couple sitting in a nearby room, few meters away, attending a traditional Inuit dance performance. Drawn by the noise in the corridor, Nelson Mandela diverted his attention and we looked at each other for a short moment.

What surprised me the most was to see this remarquable man sitting straight in his chair, like a young man in his prime, showing no signs of fatigue, despite a very busy day and such a late hour that would not allow him to rest before 0500AM. That night, I understood a bit more what involved the responsibilities of a head of State and all the energy required day after day to occupy the position.