Boeing 727 – Photography, aviation and flight simulation

(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.

(Next story: Iqaluit and the Persian Gulf War)

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

(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