Tag: airport

Real life stories as a flight service specialist (FSS): Rouyn-Noranda FSS

The newspaper “Le Moyen Terme”

Post author By Stanley
Post date 1 April 2015

A section of the front page of my newspaper "Le Moyen Terme" — A section of the front page of my newspaper “Le Moyen Terme”

Since the Quebec flight service stations were disseminated over a vast territory, the communications between the employees of each station were quite limited. It was difficult to obtain relevant information on staff transfers: such information was badly needed when came the time to choose the next transfer site.

How would an employee be able to insist that there is availability in Montreal if he did not have in front of him, during the “discussion”, such verified information? To correct the situation, once I was working at Rouyn-Noranda FSS, I decided to create my own newspaper, titled “Le Moyen Terme”.

The newspaper was distributed to every Quebec flight service stations, to the Transport Canada Training Institute in Cornwall, Ontario, to Montreal regional office and to Ottawa headquarters. Suddenly, the Quebec flight service specialists were having access to relevant information that was updated on a regular basis.

I had contributors from all over the province, and as the newspaper gained in credibility, even Ottawa managers started to provide me with some input. I financed the newspaper, wrote most of the articles and mailed a new edition every two months. I was indebted to nobody. This did not preclude the reception of a lawyer’s letter, but in such a controlled environment, that did not come as a surprise. I presented the letter to a well-known judge who took care of the matter for free. He closed the case in one swift move.

Each edition had ten to fifteen pages. It was typed using an old typewriter and mistakes were erased using correcting fluid. A small part of the content was meant to amuse the reader, but must of the information was of an editorial nature. The texts were generally received positively by the employees and that contributed to a regular exchange.

The "Facts and rumors" page of the "Le Moyen Terme" newspaper — The “Facts and rumors” page of the “Le Moyen Terme” newspaper

The section that was possibly the least appreciated by the regional office was titled: “Where are they?” On that page, one could find the name of every employee working at a particular station, with its seniority. The details were now readily available to everybody. The information provided by the management could now be crosschecked by the staff. This possibly annoyed some managers who, until recently, had a relatively easy task in attributing respective postings.

Page "Où sont-ils?" (Where are they?) of my newspaper "Le Moyen Terme" — Page “Où sont-ils?” (Where are they?) of my newspaper “Le Moyen Terme”

One day, I had to visit the Montreal Transport Canada regional office. A high ranking manager, aware of my visit, invited me in his office and ordered me to stop the production of the newspaper. I told him that it was out of question and that the newspaper was useful to many employees. My answer, at the time, did not make me friends in high places, but it was not my goal. The newspaper was produced for another two years. I decided to end this personal project when I had no more time to take care of it, busy with multiple university courses and a seven days a week working schedule in Iqaluit. Since I did not want to dilute or diminish the content or the quality of the newspaper I had created, I chose to stop its production.

(Note: the comic-book characters were created by Gotlib)

For more real life stories on the Rouyn-Noranda flight service station and flight service specialists, click here:

Real life stories as a FSS in Rouyn-Noranda

Flight Simulation

Flight simulation: gliding with the DG-808S over Canadian lakes and forests.

Post author By Stanley
Post date 28 March 2015

The link is finally cut between the plane and the DG-808S glider (fsx)

In the « flight simulation » section, under « challenging virtual flights », you will soon find screen captures representing the DG-808S glider built by DG Flugzeugbau. The flight departed from the Parry Sound airport (CNK4) in Ontario. The scenery has been created by Vlad Maly, from ORBX.

A DG-808S glider in flight with birds (fsx)

The command CTRL+SHFT+Y will allow an aircraft to appear and a cable to be installed between the aircraft and the glider. It is more demanding to do gliding operations in the Parry Sound region because if the pilot gets far enough from the airport, he leaves behing many options to help him land easily in case of difficulties. There are not many fields or roads. There are mostly lakes and forests. The view is interesting, but you fly with the feeling that there is really no plan B. If the glider must go down, chances are it will find itself either in water or on the top of trees.

Glider DG-808S turning base for the Parry Sound airport (fsx)

Glider DG-808S over Robert's Lake (fsx) — Glider DG-808S over Robert’s Lake (fsx)

The DG-808S can reach a speed up to 146 kT and has a gliding ratio of 5o :1. It is a high performance glider. It can carry up to 343 pounds of water to be used as ballast. In real life, the pilot uses the necessary amount of water according to the prevailing weather conditions. If there are weak thermals, the glider will easily operate without water. If there are strong thermals, it carries the maximum amount of water in its wings to add sufficient weight.

DG-808S sailplane on short final for runway 35 in Parry Sound (fsx)

Glider DG-808S over threshold 35 Parry Sound (fsx)

The flight was made using CumulusX and FSX. On final for runway 35, you will have the opportunity to fly at low altitude over Robert’s Lake and admire all the small details created to make the scenery more realistic.

A DG-808S sailplane and the Canadian flag in Parry Sound, Ontario (fsx)

End of a DG-808S glider flight in Parry Sound, Ontario (fsx)

For more articles on flight simulation on my web site, click on the following link : Flight simulation

Good luck and have fun!

Tags airport, challenging virtual flights, CNK4, Cumulus x, DG Flugzeugbau, DG-808S, FSX, glider, Ontario, ORBX, Parry Sound virtual airport, pilot, Robert's Lake, virtual flight, virtual scenery, Vlad Maly

Real life stories as a flight service specialist (FSS): Inukjuak FSS

A kitchen used as a navigation aid to aviation in Inukjuak

Post author By Stanley
Post date 23 February 2015

(Precedent story: the UFO invented in Inukjuak in 1983)

Inukjuak during a blizzard that forbid landings for days.

The winter 1982-1983 was fierce in Inukjuak (CYPH), in the Nunavik. There was a period when the winds were strong enough and the visibility reduced to the point that a rope had to be attached between the staff house and the flight service station. A Transport Canada flight service specialist (FSS) had to hold a rope to guide himself from one building to the other. And good luck to the FSS who would try to carry his meal on a tray between both buildings. A hand held the rope while the other one took care of the tray which was going in all directions. On one occasion, tray and food found their way in the snowbank.

Due to strong sustained winds, snow sometimes reached the roof top of the Inukjuak flight service station.

After a storm which seemed endless, I remember that the employees had to dig steps in the hardened snow in order to reach the flight service station door.

We sometimes had to dig in the snow to free the door and enter in the Inukjuak flight service station

This blizzard, which lasted twelve days, had prevented any takeoff and landing. There was no more milk for sale in the Inuit village, as it was now reserved for children. Hardly one hundred feet over us, there was a perfectly blue sky, according to the pilots who had tried to land on multiple occasions. But one morning, an Austin Airways pilot decided to risk an approach.

A red square was useful to help the employees find a building during a blizzard in Inukjuak.

The pilot could not benefit from any precise navigation aid during his approach, as the airport was only equipped with an NDB. So he trusted his local knowledge and what was left of his judgment. He knew that the staff house was painted green and situated just beside the runway. I guess that he prepared himself to aim for the colored staff house then make a sharp turn at the last minute. He dived into the storm, estimating the wind drift as much as he could.

At that same moment, our cook was working in the staff house’s kitchen. He was facing a huge bay window and was stunned to suddenly see the nose of a Twin Otter appear a few meters away from the window at the same time as a steep turn was being made to avoid the building. Reverse thrust was immediately applied to immobilize the plane as fast as possible. The cook repeated what he witnessed to every employee. I guess that helped him to unwind a bit.

As this was not enough surprise for the day, the plane’s doors opened and, instead of the much needed milk cargo expected by the villagers, we witnessed about ten passengers stepping out the plane and chitchatting like nothing ever happened. This unorthodox approach to the Inukjuak airport would now be one more story added on top of all the others told by pilots offering daily air service to northern Quebec villages along Hudson Bay and Ungava Bay coasts.

(Next story: the cockpit of a KLM Boeing 747 during a night flight over the Atlantic)

For more real life stories of a FSS in Inukjuak, click on the following link: Flight service specialist (FSS) in Inukjuak

Real life stories as a flight service specialist (FSS): Inukjuak FSS

Inukjuak: last hope for a Bell Canada Twin Otter low on fuel

Post author By Stanley
Post date 20 January 2015

(Precedent story: emergency clean-up)

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)

For more real life stories of a FSS in Inukjuak, click on the following link: Flight service specialist (FSS) in Inukjuak

Photography

Lockheed L-1011 in front of the Iqaluit flight service station tower in 1990

Post author By Stanley
Post date 18 January 2015

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.

Real life stories as a flight service specialist (FSS): Inukjuak FSS

The Inuit who wanted to shoot Whites with a .303 caliber rifle

Post author By Stanley
Post date 4 January 2015

(Precedent story: the long awaited aircraft)

This is where we worked and lived in Inukjuak in 1982. One of the buildings holds the Transport Canada flight service station.

Note: It is only an out of the ordinary true life story. Normal relations between Whites and Inuit are entirely peaceful. Besides, we all know of situations in the southern cities where whites have tried to shoot people. The following story therefore presents an unusual and rare case.

In a Northern Quebec village named Inukjuak,in 1982-1983, the buildings layout was simple. On top of a nearby hill was the whole village, populated overwhelmingly by Inuit. Down the hill, near the airstrip and Hudson Bay, were the few buildings where Environment Canada employees and Transport Canada flight services specialists (FSS) could be found. There were only Whites living and working in this area.

One evening during winter` 82 -` 83, someone knocked on the door and entered immediately without waiting for an answer. It was the auxiliary police officer. He was an unarmed young man who occasionally helped the unique village policeman. He told us that the policeman was absent from the village and that he must fend for himself. He urged us: “Lock your doors and turn off the lights, do not go out unless it is essential, as there is one Inuit armed with .303 caliber rifle who wants to shoot white people.“

It was, of course, a complete surprise for everyone. It was easy to deduce that the shooter looking for Whites would choose the easiest solution and head towards our buildings to shoot somebody at random. Not wanting to be a sitting duck, I went to my room and grabbed a locked suitcase that had been sleeping for months on a shelf. I took out a Remington Classic 700 BDL Bolt Action and loaded the magazine.

We established a plan, with the other two persons in the house. Two of us would have to get out and head toward the flight service station, where there was an unarmed FSS female employee working alone. Chances were that she was not aware of what was going on. One of us would bring her back home and the other one would then complete her night shift at her place, since the station could not be left unattended.

While we would be gone, there would be one person left in the house with a gun to protect himself if necessary. This employee had just arrived in Inukjuak. I still remember his reaction when we were getting ready to leave. I can hear him say: “But what is this crazy place?“

We closed the outdoor floodlights and headed to the flight service station with our weapons. Walking in the dark, crouched like soldiers during wartime, we arrived at the Transport Canada building where we found the employee occupied at her normal duties, completely ignoring the possible presence of a nearby shooter. I took her place to complete the night shift while she returned home accompanied by an armed employee.

Once alone in the operating room, I shut the lights while keeping a small lamp to illuminate the console radio frequencies. I lay the rifle flat on a counter, the lock removed for faster use if needed. The radio console was located opposite a large window: it left us totally exposed to anyone who would decide to shoot through it. I therefore had to stay away from the normal working position, except when responding to radio calls, until we received fresh news about the shooter.

Twin Otter inbound for Inukjuak on a very windy day in 1982.

The improvised night shift ended without incident in the station, but I learned that multiple shots were fired at a vehicle traveling near our facilities. Projectiles pierced doors, but luckily they did not hit the vehicle occupants. Within hours of the event, a tactical response team of the Sûreté du Québec arrived in Inukjuak and controlled the shooter.

Even if this story took place decades ago, I still remember very well the atmosphere on that evening. When untrained civilians must load firearms to potentially use them against another human, it cannot be forgotten.

(Next story: emergency clean-up)

For more real life stories of a FSS in Inukjuak, click on the following link: Flight service specialist (FSS) in Inukjuak

Real life stories as a flight service specialist (FSS): Inukjuak FSS

Illegal fishing on the Innuksuak river near Inukjuak

Post author By Stanley
Post date 14 December 2014

(Precedent story: a visit at the Inukjuak flight service station)

Inhabitants of the Inukjuak village, 1982

In the early “80s, while I was working at the Transport Canada flight service station in Inukjuak (CYPH), a floatplane entered our control zone in Inukjuak without communicating with the flight service specialists (FSS). He was flying at low altitude over the area with the obvious intent to do a stopover on the Innuksuak River, a few kilometers inland. We tried to contact the pilot but he never replied. We started to suspect that illegal fishing was the reason for his trip in northern Quebec. The aircraft owner had possibly not paid the mandatory fishing fees to get access to Quebec controlled territories.

Thanks to the cooperation of the Inuits, we managed to get the registration of the aircraft. A quick search allowed us to determine that it was owned by a company operating from a base in northern Ontario.

We expected that the aircraft would be airborne in few hours, loaded with fish. And it was obvious that the pilot would not take the risk of refueling at our airport. He would therefore be forced to land in Kuujjuarapik (CYGW) for fuel.

We contacted Kuujjuarapik FSS and asked them to note what would be the final destination of the aircraft. It was an airport in the north of the Abitibi region, under Rouyn-Noranda FSS responsability. The FSS at many flight service stations worked together to follow the aircraft to its destination. Police officers drove to the airport and waited for the aircraft to land. I imagine that the seizures and fines were important.

In this story, the initiative and collaboration of Inukjuak inhabitants were essential. Without them, it would have been impossible to get the registration of the aircraft.

(Next story: the manager who had lost appetite)

For more real life stories of a FSS in Inukjuak, click on the following link: Flight service specialist (FSS) in Inukjuak

Real life stories as pilot and FSS: learning how to fly

The flight from St-Jean-sur-Richelieu, Québec, to Edmonton, Alberta in 1981

Post author By Stanley
Post date 28 October 2014

(Precedent story: unexpected thunderstorm cells)

After a proficiency check, I soon find myself flying a Cessna 170B (tail wheel) on a flight across Canada, from St -Jean-sur- Richelieu, Quebec, to Edmonton, Alberta. I am accompanied by the aircraft’s owner who has not yet completed his private pilot course. The 1952 Cessna flies well, but has absolutely no instruments for air navigation, not even a VOR nor ADF. And the era of the portable GPS is not yet upon us.

Fourteen 1:500,000 VFR charts, covering the planned flight, are folded, glued and numbered. I trace the expected flight path on each chart, with 10 miles landmarks. This will facilitate the monitoring of our progress, considering the absence of navigation equipment. The preparation now completed, the take off is done on a beautiful summer day of 1981.

1:500,000 VFR charts used for a flight toward Edmonton, Canada, in 1981

We do stopovers at Gatineau, North Bay, Sudbury and then fly along Lake Superior to Wawa.

Small break in Sudbury on a VFR flight to Edmonton in 1981

We fly around Lake Superior to our next stopovers, Thunder Bay and Fort Frances. Over large forested areas, with no major landmarks, the gyroscopic precession must be corrected frequently so as not to stray too far from the intended track. Sometimes when it facilitates navigation, we either follow a railway or main roads. There are some instances where the westerly winds are so strong that our ground speed is slower than a car on a highway.

From Fort Frances to Kenora in 1981, with a Cessna C170B

Our flight path follows a line that keeps us away from areas of high air traffic. I choose to fly north of Winnipeg terminal control area, thus avoiding frequent radio exchanges with air traffic control in a language I do not master. The underperforming radio would not be of any help at any rate. This option eventually means that we must fly over Lake Winnipeg, in its southern portion. We have enough altitude to be able to glide to the other side in case of an engine failure. Nonetheless, we realize that we are gradually loosing several thousand feet due to the cold air mass above the lake. This with maximum power applied. The unexpected descent eventually ends, but it is now impossible to have an engine failure without ditching in the lake…

The crossing of Lake Winnipeg with a Cessna C170B in 1981

Near Lundar, Manitoba, the aircraft’s old gauges indicate a significant loss of fuel. It is surprising since we refueled an hour ago. We must land the plane on the nearest runway, but the strong crosswinds exceed the capabilities of the aircraft. Nonetheless, an attempt is made with the result that only the left wheel accepts the contact with the runway. As soon as the right wheel also touches the ground, the aircraft becomes airborne again. A nearby field is selected to make a precautionary landing so that the fuel status can be verified. We fly at low altitude over the electrical wires and the cows in the adjacent field, and touch smoothly at a ground speed not exceeding 15 knots. A farmer witnesses the landing and arrives in his red pick-up to offer some help. The tanks are almost full, so the plane only needs few liters of gasoline. Once this is done, we take off westward. It appears that the old fuel gauges of this 1952 Cessna are now totally unreliable…

Landing in a field with a Cessna C170B in Lundar, Manitoba in 1981.

We leave Manitoba through Dauphin and enter Saskatchewan. If we were to experience an engine failure above such uniform fields, the risk of serious problems at landing would be virtually nonexistent.

Near Yorkton, Saskatchewan, in flight with a Cessna C170B in 1981

The weather is slowly deteriorating. We choose to land in Watson, Saskatchewan, on the nearest runway.

The runway surface consists of muddy earth and grass, and it’s delimited by small red wooden panels. As we touch the ground, the tires splash mud everywhere, including under the wings.

The Watson runway, Saskatchewan, in 1981

The King George motel in Watson, Saskatchewan in 1981

Finally, the weather improves and a takeoff is made toward North Battleford, the last stop before Edmonton. The sloping terrain forces us to fly lower and lower near Edmonton, under an overcast stratocumulus, limiting our ability to see a long time in advance the correct airport from the three available (international, civil , military ). Luckily, everything goes well in choosing the right airport and approach, but we cannot say the same with radio communications. The sound quality coming from the old speaker is awful and the English spoken by the air traffic controller too fast for us. The combination of these two factors causes the controller to repeat more than once his instructions until he finally decides to slow down and we can officially say: « Roger! »

After spending few days in Edmonton it is now time for the return flight to St-Jean. This proves to be much easier and faster because the westerly winds push the aircraft. Our ground speed is sometimes double what we had managed to get on our trip to Edmonton. The journey took us twenty-five hours to go and eighteen hours to come back.

Cessna C170B in flight over Canada, summer 1981.

Climbing to 9,500 feet on the return leg to St-Jean-sur-Richelieu, in 1981.

VFR "on top" with a Cessna C170B in 1981 over Canada — VFR “on top” with a Cessna C170B in 1981 over Canada

Over North Bay, Ontario, the weather is ideal. But we will have to land in Ottawa while waiting for thunderstorms to move away from Montreal and St-Jean-sur-Richelieu. After a total of forty- three-hours of flying time, the old Cessna 170B is landing back to St- Jean -sur- Richelieu.

(Next story: the flight instructor license)

Real life stories as pilot and FSS: learning how to fly

Unexpected thunderstorm cells.

Post author By Stanley
Post date 21 October 2014

(Precedent story: the commercial pilot license / a tire bursts on landing)

On a hot summer day of 1981, I was asked to fly a Cessna 150 to the Montreal Pierre-Elliott-Trudeau international airport to pick-up one of our flight instructors and bring him back to St-Jean-sur-Richelieu. The winds were blowing from the northwest, so runway 28 was being used. While I was in final for that runway, the air traffic controller realized that he did not have enough separation between my plane and a heavy one that was also in long final. He told me “Increase your speed, there is a Boeing 727 behind you”.

It is very easy to increase the speed of an airplane while maintaining an altitude. You just push the throttle and the speed increases. However, when the aircraft is above the threshold of the runway, it needs its specific speed to touch the ground otherwise it continues to fly until the appropriate speed for landing is reached. It seemed to me that the Cessna floated for an eternity before finally touching the runway. But it eventually worked out well and I exited the runway before an overshoot was required for the Boeing.

So I parked the aircraft near Transport Canada’s offices and waited for the instructor for about thirty minutes. Clouds were rapidly covering the sky in this late afternoon, with all the humidity and an already high temperature. When the instructor finally showed up and we proceeded with the taxiing procedure, the air traffic controller told us: “You must accept radar vectors for your departing route because of the weather.” What weather? A cold front was at work, but nothing serious was visible from our position. So close to the airport terminal, all we could see were towering cumulus, nothing else. We accepted his offer in order to be allowed to leave the airport.

The take-off was made from runway 28. I made a left turn toward St-Jean. We soon understood why radar vectors had to be followed. A storm had developed between Montreal and St-Jean. We observed what looked like five cylinders created by heavy rain. Lightning was also occasionally visible. We had to fly between the cylinders to avoid the most problematic areas. We tightened our seat belts just as the first bumps were being felt, making our altitude vary considerably. Knowing what I know today about flying in bad weather, I would not attempt another flight like this one, especially without an onboard weather radar.

The flight ended nicely with a smooth landing in St- Jean, outside of the problematic weather area. A few weeks later, I was asked if I would accept to be captain for a long flight across Canada. This unexpected offer represented a great opportunity, especially since it would allow me to log more than forty additional flying hours.

(Next story: a visual flight (VFR) from St-Jean-sur-Richelieu, Quebec, to Emonton, Alberta)

For other real life stories as a pilot, click on the following link: Real life stories as a pilot