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

Carrying a .357 Magnum to Iqaluit

(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)

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

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

The Cessna 172 that was pulling a 100 kilos cement block.

Flight service specialist (FSS) at work in Rouyn-Noranda around 1986
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
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:

Real life stories as a FSS in Rouyn-Noranda

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

Enroute for the second posting: Rouyn-Noranda FSS

New Rouyn-Noranda flight service station. Photo taken around 2002. Unknown photographer.
New Rouyn-Noranda flight service station. Photo taken around 2002. Unknown photographer.
Photo of the old Rouyn-Noranda flight service station. Photo taken in 1984
Photo of the old Rouyn-Noranda flight service station. Photo taken in 1984

November 1983. After having worked every day for more than a year, it was time to leave Inukjuak, in the Nunavik, for a new Transport Canada flight service station (FSS) located in Rouyn-Noranda (CYUY), in Abitibi region in the Québec province. Things got complicated on the day of departure, the weather worsening rapidly. An Air Creebec Twin Otter departing from Kuujuaraapik (CYGW) would now do the flight. But this company’s route implied numerous stopovers along James Bay.

With the strong winds and low clouds, I was aware that we would be in for a rough ride. The clouds being merely few hundred feet above the tree tops, the pilots had to do the whole flight and the multiple stopovers while dealing with those limitations. Along the route, there was no airport equipped to allow instrument landings. The runways were short, in gravel or dirt, and trees sometimes near the thresholds forced the pilots to adopt steeper rate of ascent or descent.

After few hours of flying in this sustained mechanical turbulence, many passengers started to experiment air sickness. They had to use the practical little bag offered by all the companies. I changed my mind by looking through the window. There was no choice of music for the flight: the wheezing and grunting noises of the passengers were used as background ambiance.

We finally landed in Val-d’Or (CYVO) late in the evening. It was different to see a long asphalted runway and an airport equipped with appropriate instruments. One hour later, I was in Rouyn-Noranda. Welcome in the South…!

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

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

The Flight Instructor License

(Precedent story: the flight from St-Jean-sur-Richelieu to Edmonton)

In order to accumulate flying hours, I needed to become a flight instructor. The course was undertaken and my license obtained, after successful written and flying exams. Already having logged enough flying hours as pilot in command, I was able to receive a Class 3 license immediately. Technically, this meant that I did not have to receive permission from a chief instructor before I authorized a student to fly alone for the first time.

In order to study certain maneuvers with the greatest possible accuracy that I would have to teach, I sometimes practiced unusual flying exercises. This meant I needed to check the behavior of the aircraft if a student mishandled the controls before I could correct him. With enough altitude, you could afford a fair amount of improvisation.

So I decided, during one of these specific exercises, to simulate a student who had inverted the maneuvers required to stall an aircraft and bring it to a spin. The plane turned completely upside down and I heard noises indicating that the stress on the structure was possibly important. Needless to say, I decided to abandon some experiments, realizing that it was quite possible that certain leased aircraft had previously been engaged in similar exercises. We all want to end a flight with our aircraft intact…

A group of flight instructors working in St-Jean-sur-Richelieu in 1981
A group of flight instructors working in St-Jean-sur-Richelieu in 1981

At the St-Jean-sur-Richelieu flying club, we were now eleven certified instructors. However, the number of new students was stagnating in the economic uncertainty of the late 70s to early 80s. A global recession was raging and unemployment soaring. Some airlines went bankrupt, others were freezing the hiring of new pilots. Eleven instructors in the same flying club was a lot for so few customers. The pay was meager.

Among the students I trained during the period when I was a flight instructor, the first to successfully fly solo was an Egyptian. He arrived in Quebec with a group of a dozen compatriots. Their ambition was to receive all of their training in Quebec and return to Egypt as pilots for the national carrier EgyptAir.

Two Egyptian students at a St-Jean-sur-Richelieu flying school in 1981
Two Egyptian students at a St-Jean-sur-Richelieu flying school in 1981

My student had talent and learned quickly. But there was a student in the group that many instructors tried to train without success. Each of us thought that our own method might not have been appropriate so we encouraged him to try flying with other instructors. But it became clear that aviation would never be the field of activity in which he could progress and make a career. No instructor ever agreed to let him fly solo, and this, even after the student had spent months trying to understand the basics of flying: when came the time to execute the learned concepts, even after multiple demonstrations, he could not do it. He was simply not a safe pilot. I guess he changed his plan after the St-Jean experience.

(next story: the flight service specialist)

Categories
Screen captures

A glider flight over Monterey, California

Hi,

Today, in the “Flight simulation / Standard virtual flights”, I have added a glider flight that was done over Monterey, California. It is a good exercise for flight simulation enthousiasts. Below is one of the picture taken during the flight.

Glider in Monterey, California (FSX)
Glider in Monterey, California (FSX)

François

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

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

(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
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
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
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
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.
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
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 Watson runway, Saskatchewan, in 1981
The King George motel in Watson, 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
Cessna C170B in flight over Canada, summer 1981.
Climbing to 9,500 feet on the return leg to St-Jean-sur-Richelieu, in 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)

Categories
Environment

The Conundrum

The Conundrum eng

The Conundrum: How Scientific Innovation, Increased Efficiency and Good Intentions can Make Our Energy and Climate Problems Worse. Originally published by Riverhead Books, 2011.

This book is certainly a nice surprise. The author, David Owen, adopts a contrarian view on the supposedly positive effects of eco-energetic products on the environment. He develops his subject in a humoristic way, often citing himself as a bad student when it comes to excessive consumption of planetary resources. Owen makes the argument that it is often easier to think at length about a problem than to actually do something about it.

Mr. Owen successfully demonstrates that the only efficient solution to slow down global warming and act against excessive use of planetary resources is to lower general consumption. Instead of supporting the idea that eco-energetic solutions will save the environment, he demonstrates that they have, in fact, a rebound effect.

With science helping to create new and less expensive products, overuse gradually becomes the norm. Because of their low cost, these same products become available to a greater number of new users, thus creating a rebound effect and increasing the consumption and impact on the environment. The idea here is not to forbid the poorest people to have access to products that could improve their quality of life, but to aim for a better distribution of the planetary resources by asking the richest countries of the world to lower their own consumption.

Many forms of transportation are analyzed: the use of the electric car, commuter train and modern aviation. Let’s consider aviation: decades ago, a plane on an intercontinental flight was polluting the air more than today. Technological innovations helped diminish the level of pollution produced for each individual flight. The engines need less fuel and aircrafts are made of lighter components, etc. On a micro-scale effect, we could assume that this is a real success. But on a planetary scale, it is easy to realize that the number of flights have increased tremendously. A growing population, added to lower ticket prices and easier access to new customers help increase the carbon footprint.

When it comes to the impact of consumption on the environment, the micro-scale vision prevails. The responsible consumer tells himself: “I bought an electric car, or a hybrid vehicle, so I did my share for the environment”. The real solution does not reside in the possibility of doing more kilometers for a liter of fuel, but to do less kilometers on a yearly basis and eventually reduce the total number of drivers and vehicles. This looks like a huge proposition. The author explains that the use of a vehicle, whatever it is, requires the development and maintenance of an ever increasing number of kilometers of roads and highways. This also has the indirect effect of facilitating, for an ever larger number of drivers, access to suburbs that are increasingly farther from higher density zones.

David Owen stresses the importance of densification. Not any densification, but a well-planned one, where the citizen does not need to use a vehicle since he has access to all the essential services within a short distance. The site www.walkscore.com has some interesting information on the subject. The author names New-York and Hong-Kong as the two most eco-energetic cities in the world. Easier said than done. Especially when we realize that those cities are becoming environmental examples because they do not have a choice due to the limitation of a small territory that forces massive densification. We cannot deny, though, that a planned densification increases the number and diversity of available services.

But if we densify some areas while widening and extending highways that facilitate access to suburbs and low density areas, we apply opposite policies, thus greatly slowing down the densification process. This is a balance difficult to achieve. In order to solve some traffic problems, many cities have adopted the commuter train when it is clear in advance that the poor density of the population, added to a large territory, will prove ineffective.

The author names Phoenix as an example: this city has a modern commuter train serving a population twice as big as Manhattan but operating on a territory that is two hundred times larger. So the operation is solved by a yearly recurrent deficit.
In the end, the main problem is that it is easier to buy eco-energetic products and preserve a lifestyle, than to diminish our level of general comfort by reducing our consumption of planetary resources. But one must admit that it is not easy for the consumer to change his lifestyle, especially when he is constantly solicited by publicity and propaganda to increase his consumption.

At the end of his book, David Owen quotes Daniel Nocera, who holds the Henry Dreyfuss Chair in Science of Energy, at MIT: [my translation] “…confusion arises when we believe that with our heart we can solve environmental problems while, doing so, we only solve the problems of consciousness”.

Note: David Owen is a regular contributor to the New Yorker. He has written many books, among them Green Metropolis (2009), about the ecological superiority of megalopolis like New-York.