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.
On a summer day of 1989, a DC-8-63F took-off from Iqaluit airport’s runway 36, on Baffin Island, 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 Transport Canada 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, the flight service specialists (FSS) 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 airplane 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 Arctic region.
N795AL DC-8-63 Trans Ocean airborne runway 18 in Iqaluit in 1990
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, in the Nunavut.
Air UK G-UKLB Boeing B737 arriving in Iqaluit
In the unique aviation photography above, taken from the local Transport Canada flight service station (FSS), 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.
Aer Lingus B-737 on final in Iqaluit in 1990
A new Hapag-LLoyd (D-AHLL) Boeing B-737 has just arrived from Boeing Field in Seattle. Next destination: Germany.
The Transport Canada flight service specialists (FSS) in Iqaluit 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, on Baffin Island, 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.
Hapag Lloyd D-AHLO B737-4K5 in its delivery flight in 1989, from Boeing Field (KBFI) to Iqaluit, and then towards Germany. It is being refueled during difficult weather conditions. This type of aircraft did not experience much problem with the cold weather, but it was not the case with smaller business jets
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.
Mountains around Iqaluit, during a nice day when there is still ice in the bay. The blue tones are absolutely magnificent.
(Precedent story: Iqaluit FSS and the Persian Gulf War)
Book and message sent by a Saab-Scania pilot to the Iqaluit flight service specialists
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.
OV-10 Broncos transiting through Iqaluit in 1990 and heading for the Persian Gulf
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.
RU-21 Guardrail Common Sensor on a stopover in Iqaluit in 1990 and heading for the Persian Gulf
A Southern Air Transport L-382 also landed in Iqaluit. That company was sometimes used by the CIA for its operations.
Southern Air Transport L-382 N908SJ transiting through Iqaluit in 1990
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.
Occidental Petroleum B-727 N10XY on a stopover in Iqaluit in 1990
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)
A Trans Ocean Airways DC-8-71 and a Sterling Boeing B-727 in Iqaluit (1989). View from the Iqaluit flight service station.
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: the « Amalgam Chief » military exercise: B-52 bombers in northern Canada).
Aer Lingus Boeing B-737 on final for Iqaluit (1989)
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.
A view from the Iqaluit flight service tower: a First Air Boeing B-727 and a Canadian Airlines Boeing B-737A new Hapag-LLoyd (D-AHLL) Boeing B-737 has just arrived from Boeing Field in Seattle. Next destination: Germany.
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.
The Iqaluit flight service station tower and a First Air Boeing B-727 landing on runway 36 (1990)View from the Iqaluit flight service station tower of an Evergreen International Boeing B-727 (1989)A NWT Air B-737 on the taxiway and a Bradley Air Services Twin Otter about to land in Iqaluit (1989)An AirUK G-UKLB Boeing B737 is arriving in Iqaluit (around 1989)
(Next story: the lady who was robbed before my eyes)
(Precedent story: carrying a .357 Magnum to Iqaluit)
An American Trans Air Lockheed L-1011being refueled in Iqaluit, Canada, in 1989. I had the opportunity to leave the flight service station (the yellow tower) for few minutes to take this picture.
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 McAllister flat-bottomed barge will soon be unloaded in Iqaluit, during low tide.
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.
German automated weather station in exibit at the War Museum in Ottawa
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.
What is left of the old American military base in Frobisher Bay (Iqaluit), Canada. I took the picture in 1989.
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
Gaston Gagnon during the period where he served as a Canadian military in the communication field, at the Frobisher Bay station of the Pinetree Line in Canada in 1955. He died in 2016.
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).
War medals (volontary service and honorable service during the Second World War (1939-1945) belonging to the French Canadian Gaston Gagnon who died in 2016
Frobisher Bay, N.W.T., Canada crest
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.
Radar dish at the Frobisher Bay, NWT, Canada Pinetree Line Station in 1955
American soldier posted at the Frobisher Bay NWT Canada Pinetree Line site in 1955
Globe Master C-124 aircraft of the Military Transport Air Service (U.S. Air Force) in Frobisher Bay, NWT, Canada in 1955 serving the Pinetree Line stations during the Cold War.
C-124 Globemaster. Military Air Transport Service in United States (around 1957)
Frobisher Bay, N.W.T., Canada crest
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.
DEW and Pinetree lines over Northern Canada
1963. Americans left Frobisher Bay and gave control of the Polevault station to the DOT [Department of Transport], an older designation of Transport Canada.
Old American military base in Frobisher Bay (Iqaluit)
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.
People and DOT Canada in Frobisher Bay NWT aviation postcard
1987. Frobisher Bay was renamed Iqaluit.
Two Canadian CF-18s holding short of runway in Iqaluit (1989)
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.
American F-15 landing 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.
American F-15 Eagle airborne from Iqaluit
Canadian T-33s in Iqaluit (1990)
American Starlifter cargo aircraft ready for take-off in Iqaluit (1989)
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.
Two Canadian CF-18s in Iqaluit (1989)
Two American F-15 Eagle taxiing for departure in Iqaluit (1990)
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.
Six Canadian CF-18s, one Lockheed Electra Ice Patrol aircraft, a Dash-7 and a T-33 in Iqaluit
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.
Canadian Armed Forces Boeing B-707 in Iqaluit, in front of the flight service station tower
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.
Two Canadian fighter aircrafts CF-18 leaving the runway in Iqaluit.
2006. Extreme cold tests were held in Iqaluit by Airbus for the A-380, the biggest passenger aircraft in the world.
Airbus A380-841 in Iqaluit, Canada, during cold weather testing
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)
