Here are few aircraft photos taken at the Rouyn-Noranda airport (CYUY) during the 1986-1988 period, while I was working as a flight service specialist (FSS). Those are not fancy pictures but they nonetheless provide a representative sample of what was flying over the Abitibi region during those years. As such, they are part of the Quebec Province aviation history. It is possible that you might see some of the company names or colours for the first time.
I took these photos with an old Pentax KX, using Kodachrome film. I intend to publish the three series over the next few weeks. Many types and categories of aircrafts will be included: private, commercial, corporate, governmental, military, etc. I am convinced that some pictures will bring back memories to older pilots.
In this first part, you will find the following: Tim Hortons AC6T, Sunwest Lear 35 C-GVVA, Québec Aviation SW4 C-GQAP, Propair DHC-3 C-FOOH, Government of Québec HS-125 C-FSEN, Trans North Air helicopter Bell 47G3B2 C-FQJY, Government of Québec DC-3, Conquest Flight Group C-411 N88727, Cité Express DHC-7 C-GHRV, Government of Canada CL-601 C-GCFI, Manitoulin Air Service C185F C-GTLO, Central Airways BE-20 C-FANG, Canadian Pacific B737-200 C-FCIP, Bellanca Scout C-GPKB, Aérospatiale Écureuil AS-350, Austin Airways BAE-748 C-GGOO, Viking AS-350 C-GBPS, Air Dorval SW2, Air Canada B-727, Aero-Commander C-GOTL.
For more real life stories on the Rouyn-Noranda flight service station and flight service specialists, click here:
1986. It was a beautiful summer afternoon at the Rouyn-Noranda airport (CYUY). The Transport Canada flight service station employees knew that a cold front was approaching and would soon sweep the airport. Until then, it was still a perfect day. Blue sky, light winds. At the time, the flight service specialists (FSS) did not have access to radar images or satellite pictures.
To get an idea of what was coming from the west, we were normally using an Environment Canada aviation weather forecast and the actual weather observations of two flight service stations in Ontario, Earlton FSS and Timmins FSS. Their last weather observation mentioned a wind shift and an isolated thunderstorm. But Timmins was far away and could only provide us with a rough estimate of the situation.
As I was working the evening shift on that day, I checked the wind speed indicator, as a reflex developed throughout the years. What I saw was kind of unreal. The speed indicator’s needle suddenly went from showing few knots to 20 knots, and then 40 knots, hesitated a little then went up to 60 knots and, in a final correction, reached 72 knots, which was about 134 km/h.
Everything was so peaceful around the flight service station. I looked through the window to detect any moving object. At that very moment, the wooden shed normally used by the fuel man passed in front of the station. That wooden structure must certainly have weighted few hundred kilos. The fact that it was moving at a good speed was a clear indication that the instruments were working properly. A squall line was associated with the cold front progression.
Everything that was not properly fixed to the ground started moving. In the next hour, strong thunderstorms going eastward moved in over Rouyn-Noranda. The Val-d’Or airport (CYVO) being located sixty miles east, it was clear that it would be hit directly in about two hours. I called the Val-d’Or control tower so that everyone got prepared for the squall line. That gave them enough time to tie everything correctly and damages were limited.
One hour later, everything was back to normal in Rouyn-Noranda and we profited from an ideal summer night.
For more real life stories on the Rouyn-Noranda flight service station and flight service specialists, click here:
In 1986, the Propair Company’s hangar was located very close from our flight service station in Rouyn-Noranda. There were frequent exchanges between their staff and our FSS’s. One day, one of their employees told us that two American pilots had just come to the airport to take delivery of a Caribou DHC-4 cargo aircraft that had been sold by Propair.
The aircraft would be exported. The DHC-4 is known to be a very practical aircraft as it can carry heavy loads and manage to takeoff or land on an extremely short distance.The pilots took-off with their used Caribou and we did not hear any more from them until the world Medias started to talk about the Irangate affair. I can talk about it today as it is a public affair: details can be found on the internet.
The Rouyn-Noranda Propair Company had in fact sold not one but two used DHC-4 Caribous to a consultant working for a panamean company. One of the DHC-4 was later registered in El Salvador. One of the two Caribous experienced an engine failure over the mountains, enroute towards El Salvador. In order to stay in the air, and considering the extreme outside moisture and air temperature, the crew had no other choice than to get rid of some weight. Spare parts in the cargo bay, including a brand new engine still in its crate, were pushed outside the plane, falling in the jungle below. But the plane had eventually no other choice than to land before arriving to its initially planned destination, Ilopango.
All this was linked to the Contras who were engaged in warfare operations against the Nicaraguan leftist government of Daniel Ortega. In order to finance the covert operations, a secret budget was necessary: some Americans were selling arms to Iran, even if there was an official ban, and the money received was financing warfare operations. A journalist who had followed this story closely and made important discoveries was found dead. He had apparently committed suicide by shooting himself twice in the head…
One of the pilots who departed Rouyn-Noranda with a DHC-4 was named Sawyer. This man would later fly, covert operations organized by the CIA, a C123 cargo type aircraft that was shot down in southern Nicaragua. The pilot and co-pilot were killed but a passenger, Eugene Hasenfus, parachuted out knowing the aircraft would soon crash. He was interrogated and revealed the details that allowed the discovery of the secret deal with Iran.
The Oliver North’s testimony in front of the Congress kept that story alive for a long time. Eventually, like everything, this story was progressively forgotten. Thirty years later, I still remember the numerous phone calls that the flight service station received from the Medias about this affair.
A book published in 2013 and titled “Raymond Boulanger, le pilote mercenaire” adds several details to this story, since Mr Boulanger was himself a pilot hired by the CIA.
For more real life stories on the Rouyn-Noranda flight service station and flight service specialists, click here:
Cessna 310 C-GAFO parked on the ramp at Rouyn-Noranda (around 1986-88)
During the summer season, air surveillance is needed to watch for new forest fires in the center and north of the Quebec Province. There are periods, sometimes many days in a row, where the pilots do not observe anything significant. They accumulate hours of flying, quietly waiting to see a new fire or expecting to be directed by a dispatcher to a new problematic area. Those pilots also act as spotters for the Canadair CL215’s and CL415’s.
During the eighties, in the Abitibi region, a Cessna 310 had been in flight for few hours and the pilot had not spotted anything worth a call. Wishing to add a bit of action to his flight, he decided to descend and follow the meanders of a river at an extremely low altitude. As he exited a bend, the pilot faced a standing fisherman in its boat, angling in open water. Imitating the gestures of the fisherman, the pilot later told the Transport Canada flight service specialist (FSS) in Rouyn-Noranda (CYUY) that he was not the only one surprised…
It might be hard to believe that an aircraft could fly that low, especially when exiting a bend in a river. But after many decades in the aviation world, I can say that almost everything is possible. I imagine the fisherman’s reaction, quietly angling during a beautiful summer morning. While the fisherman lowers his head, the pilot pulls on the controls…
The expression in the pilot’s face showed clearly that he had had enough action for the day…I would like to swear that it was his last daring move, but it would be to ignore that this need for extreme flying is always present in some pilots.
For more real life stories on the Rouyn-Noranda flight service station and flight service specialists, click here:
Medical evacuation aircraft HS-125 C-FSEN Valentine Lupien of the Quebec Government, around 1986.
During the eighties, while I was working as a flight service specialist (FSS) at the Transport Canada flight service station in Rouyn-Noranda (CYUY), I received a phone call from a Val-d’Or air traffic controller. He told me that there was a problem with the type K ARCAL. The ARCAL allows a pilot to remotely activate the runway lights.
Normally, the pilot can choose between three intensities: low, medium and high. But it now seemed that for an extended period, the ARCAL’s low intensity would not be serviceable. The controller told me to issue aNOTAM stating that nobody could use the ARCAL for an indefinite period.
I did not agree with that request. An ARCAL system that was left available would facilitate a pilot’s life by allowing him to choose between the remaining intensities during the approach, or on takeoff. The pilots of the Quebec Government HS125 in charge of medical evacuations during night time would certainly appreciate.
I told the controller that I did not know of any approved procedures relating to an ARCAL type K system failure and that I did not see why I would consider totally unserviceable a system in which only one intensity out of three was posing a problem.
He replied that those were the written procedures that could be found in the control tower and that I had to call his manager if I wanted to see them. How was it possible that official procedures pertinent to a system installed on many airports across Canada, with or without a control tower, could only be found in selected control towers? This was unthinkable.
Through my manager, I asked to receive a copy of those procedures. But it now seemed that those procedures were not in the Val-d’Or control tower but in the Montreal regional office. I tried to get them from that office, but nobody could find anything on the subject.
It was now obvious that those procedures never existed. The funny thing is that all the stakeholders were defending, one level at a time, the existence of those fictive procedures, for all kinds of reasons.
During those years, there was a program called “Incentive Award”, encouraging an employee to present new ideas that would improve the efficiency of the public service. If a proposition was accepted by the highest management levels, a certificate accompanied with a small amount of money would be sent to the employee by the Deputy Minister at Transport Canada. Realizing I would not obtain satisfaction from the regional management, I used the “Incentive Award” program to present my proposition.
One year later, I received a call from somebody who told me he was working at the national level, in Ottawa. He implied that my suggestion would not be accepted.
I told him that I paid, like other Canadians, to get the ARCAL system installed and that, as long as one intensity would remain serviceable, the ARCAL would have to be available to pilots. I made sure he understood that I could not care if he felt comfortable with the idea or not. He was advised that if he maintained his view on the subject, he would have to justify his action to the Canadian public and to the Minister of Transport, who, at the time, was Benoît Bouchard.
Two months later, I received a check and a letter from the Deputy Minister of Transport Canada thanking me for my suggestion that was improving the efficiency of public service. Fourteen months were needed to make the transition from fictive to official procedures that now apply to all Canadian airports equipped with this type of remote control of runway lights.
For more real life stories on the Rouyn-Noranda flight service station and flight service specialists, click here:
Flight service specialist (FSS) at work in Rouyn-Noranda around 1986
On a nice summer day of July, at the Rouyn-Noranda airport, a pilot from a local flying club called our Transport Canada flight service station to get the latest airport advisory for a takeoff. He wanted to use a Cessna 172. He got the details and started taxiing. I quickly noticed that the aircraft was pulling an object. Using the binoculars, I could see that it was a cement block of about 100 kilos, attached to a rope. That cement block was normally used to immobilize an aircraft after a flight.
Aircraft Cessna C172 C-GUCU in Rouyn-Noranda around 1986
It was now obvious that the pilot had not done his walk around the aircraft, a mandatory procedure to ensure that everything is normal. Pulling that cement block on the asphalt must have required more power from the engine. I asked the pilot: “Don’t you find that more power is required to taxi today?” He answered that, in fact, he noted the need to increase the engine’s revolutions and that it was possibly due to the outside high temperature and moisture.
Without further delays, I replied: “Did you walk around your aircraft before the flight to make sure that everything was OK?” At that very moment, he understood that something needed to be done. He stopped the aircraft on the taxiway, got out and realized why a higher RPM was needed to taxi. Without saying anything that could imply his personal negligence, since he knew the radio communications were recorded, he announced that he was returning to the flying club. He had “forgotten something”…
The working position of the old Rouyn-Noranda flight service station allowed only a partial view of runway 08/26, but a complete view of the taxiway where the Cessna 172 was pulling its cement block.
For more real life stories on the Rouyn-Noranda flight service station and flight service specialists, click here:
(Precedent story: a kitchen used as a navigation aid to aviation)
Cockpit and crew view of a KLM B747 on a night flight from Montreal to Amsterdam (EHAM) . The picture was taken while the aircraft was mid-point over the Atlantic ocean, in 1983.
There was a time when it was very simple to visit the cockpit of an aircraft in flight. A request was made to the stewardess, who then coordinated with the captain. Even during this period though, several companies forbade those visits when the plane was over the ocean.
In 1983, during a journey from Montreal towards Holland, I decided to take a chance and ask the on-board staff the dreaded question, hoping to be able to take a picture of the cockpit.
The flight was being made on a KLM Boeing B747. In the middle of the night, while the plane had been at cruising altitude for several hours and most of the passengers were asleep, I discreetly asked the flight attendant the authorization to visit the cockpit. Naturally, she refused. I tried again, telling her that I was working as a flight service specialist (FSS) for Transport Canada in Inukjuak, and that I regularly talked with KLM to provide air traffic services. To dissipate any doubts, I finally gave her the KLM call-signs that I was dealing with over Northern Quebec.
She agreed to deliver my request and, twenty minutes later, I was told: “come with me but pay attention not to wake the first class passengers installed near the spiral staircase which leads to the cockpit “. As I entered the cockpit, the captain turned around, greeted me while he crunched in an apple and returned to his work. Everything was quiet in the cockpit and we could hear a continual light whistling caused by the air friction.
After a short discussion with the crew, I asked both pilots and the flight engineer to close their eyes a short moment while I took a photo with flash with my Pentax KX. A photo impossible to take today, under the same circumstances, due to higher security standards.
And, since I started my annual holidays by visiting a cockpit, I thought it would also be interesting, once in Holland, to visit the famous miniature world of Madurodam, so as not to stay away too long from the aviation world…
The Bell Canada Twin Otter in the background during a nice winter day in Inukjuak. In the foreground, an old ski-doo model.
One winter evening, in 1983, the Transport Canada flight service station (FSS) in Inukjuak (CYPH) received a radio call from a Bell Canada Twin Otter that was in trouble. The fog had invaded the Hudson Bay coast in several places, and landing at the planned alternate airports was now impossible. Weather conditions still being acceptable in Inukjuak, our airport became the last option for the pilot. Unfortunately, our runway lights were out of service and a solution had to be found quickly.
Phone calls were made. Several Inuits arrived in snowmobile and installed their machine on each side of the runway, in more or less regular intervals, so as to light the outside limits of the landing surface. The pilot made a normal approach and the aircraft landed without problem. This kind of service provided by the Inuit was not something new. The pilots were always happy to be able to rely on this emergency auxiliary lighting supplied by the inhabitants of northern Quebec villages when there was a sudden problem.
(Next story: acquisition of an Inuit sculpture in Inukjuak in 1982)
An American Trans Air Lockheed L-1011 is parked in front of the Iqaluit flight service station tower (Iqaluit FSS) in 1990.
The image above comes from a slide that was then digitalized 24 years later. Its quality is not optimal but the essential information is there: the presence in Iqaluit (CYFB), on Baffin Island, of a Lockheed L-1011 belonging to American Trans Air. During the refueling and customs procedures, the passengers were allowed to stretch their legs on the ramp. In the background is the Transport Canada flight service station (FSS) tower, where I used to provide air traffic services on VHF as well as HF frequencies to airliners crossing the atlantic ocean in the absence of satellite technology. Many heavy aircrafts were using Iqaluit on a regular basis as a stopover airport, like the extended DC8, Boeing B707, 727, 737. An Airbus A-380 even stayed for few days in order to be tested under extreme cold.
(Precedent story: the manager who lost his appetite)
Two Austin Airways Twin Otters being unloaded in Inukjuak in 1982.
During the years the Transport Canada flight service station in Inukjuak (CYPH) was in operation, there was something an Austin Airways pilot could count on: on the arrival of the aircraft, there would often be somebody from the village waiting to give a hand in unloading the cargo or provide some kind of services to shorten the stopover time. The villagers were indeed regularly calling the flight service specialists (FSS) to know if there was any aircraft inbound, and if it was the case, what was the estimated time of arrival. We were used to questions like “What time plane?”, “Is that food plane?”, “Is that mail plane?”.
Upon landing, we could see, arriving from the village, a fuel truck and other pick-ups and Honda three wheelers. The postmaster came to fetch the mail, the villagers to meet passengers and family members, and the businessmen to unload their cargo or fuel the aircraft.
There was a similar interest regarding the arrival of the first vessels of the season, in late summer. Besides the occasional icebreaker presence, we witnessed the arrival of the Shell tanker, responsible to supply the villages along the Hudson Bay and Ungava Bay coasts. Barges loaded with heavy machinery and crated material were finally reaching Northern Quebec villages after more than a week of navigation, taking advantage of the low tide to deliver their cargo. Some of those vessels were damaged by ice and sometimes had to be repaired on the spot before they could resume their journey.
A rare sight: a piano and some mattresses were left without much protection in the absence of their new owners. Inukjuak 1982
One day, an anti-submarine patrol aircraft CP140 Aurora having completed his work over Hudson Bay contacted us for air traffic services. Since its operations seemed momentarily completed and it was now moving to another area, he was asked to do a “low pass” above the station. The pilot agreed and soon enough, the airplane was zooming above our facilities disappearing moments later in the clouds. I still remember the flood of phone calls that the aircraft fly-by created. Unable to see the Aurora, now above the clouds, the villagers were asking: “Is that food plane? “,”Is that mail plane ? ” .
A low pass is sometimes requested to get a close-up of an aircraft and to allow the staff to hear the roaring engines as the aircraft zooms by the building. This also creates an opportunity to take a picture. Every pilot that I have known throughout the years would gladly accept this opportunity to add some action in his routine…
An Air Inuit Twin Otter C-GMDC is refueling in Inukjuak in 1982
(Next story: the Inuit who wanted to shoot Whites with a .303 caliber rifle)
