(Precedent story: when in doubt, action is worth more than inaction)
Children visiting the Inukjuak flight service station in 1982.
In 1982, at the Transport Canada flight service station in Inukjuak (CYPH), I work with other flight service specialists (FSS) to provide air traffic services, which include advisory service to arriving and departing aircrafts. We also act as a radio communication station for ships as well as for airplanes, through VHF and HF frequencies. I only remember regular call-signs like Air France 004, who always used to call in the middle of the night, and KLM692. We also have radio contacts with military aircrafts.
Knowledge of Morse code is mandatory, although reserved for occasional use only. Weather briefings to pilots are scarce. The technology available at the time is very basic. All the data received, every minute of the day, is printed automatically. Miles of paper must be managed by the staff on a monthly basis.
Working seven days a week in a Nunavik isolated post, sometimes during twelve or sixteen hour shifts quickly becomes repetitive. In order to see something else than the flight service station, one should not miss the opportunity to participate in activities with the local Inuit population whenever possible. So one day I decide to prepare an elementary weather course in order to present it to Inukjuak children.
I then contact the Inukjuak police officer who is also responsible for the Scouts. I explain my idea and propose that a moment be found where we could all meet. I would offer a weather presentation followed by a question and answer period. Posters are prepared with topics specifically chosen to encourage participation by the kids. On the given day, about ten Scouts show up with the chief. Sitting along a wall on the gym floor, we spend a good two hours discussing about weather and aviation.
I also had the opportunity to receive a few visitors in the flight service station, accompanied by their teacher. Other times, while taking a walk, it was possible to witness a shinny hockey game. For the picture below, two bystanders accepted to pose with the hockey players.
Hockey players in the Inukjuak village in 1982
(Next story: illegal fishing on the Innuksuak river)
(Precedent story: enroute toward the first posting: Inukjuak)
The Inukjuak soft sand runway, in 1982, and a balloon tires equipped Twin Otter, property of Austin Airways.
During my first working days as a flight service specialist (FSS) at the Transport Canada flight service station in Inukjuak (CYPH), in 1982, I received a radio call from a Twin Beech 200. The pilot of this aircraft registered in the United States indicated that he wished to land at Inukjuak for a short stopover. Several passengers were on board. I gave him the necessary air traffic services and followed its progress towards the airport, through subsequent radio communications.
It is assumed that a pilot wanting to land at an airport has prepared himself and knows the length and orientation of the runway, as well as its constitution (cement, asphalt, gravel, grass, sand). These are absolutely essential information, like ensuring that there is enough fuel on board the aircraft. This makes the difference between an accident and a successful landing. I doubted that Inukjuak, with its soft sand runway, was suited for an aircraft like the Beech 200.
Being a pilot myself, I was uncomfortable to ask him if he was aware of the characteristics of the Inukjuak runway, because this was such basic information. Moreover, having no experience as a flight service specialist yet, I considered unimaginable that in the early days of a new career, I had to deal with a pilot that was not adequately prepared, and would soon put his life and the lives of his passengers in danger.
I kept on thinking that if the pilot was responsible for this type of aircraft, he must have had hundreds, if not thousands of hours of flying experience. It would be like saying: “Don’t you think that the plane is too big for your abilities?“
The aircraft was now on final for the runway, a few miles away. I decided to ask the fateful question: “Are you aware that you are about to land on a 2000 feet soft sand runway?” The pilot softly said: “OK, we’ll do a missed approach and will head somewhere else. Is Kuujjuarapik acceptable for us? “I answered positively and in the following seconds, the airplane overshot the runway and headed southward for the next airport.
From that day and the following decades, I vowed to never take anything for granted. When in doubt, action is worth more than inaction…
(Next story: A visit at the Inukjuak flight service station (1982))
(Precedent story: flight service and the Transport Canada Training Institute in Cornwall)
1982 Northern Quebec view from a Nordair B737
Summer of 1982. Today is the departure from Montreal towards Inukjuak (CYPH), a northern Quebec Inuit village, part of the Nunavik. There, I will start working as a flight service specialist (FSS) for Transport Canada. Nordair’s Boeing B737 takes off and immediately heads northward. It will fly along James Bay and, upon reaching Hudson Bay, will land in Kuujjuarapik, its final destination. From there, an Austin Airways’s Twin Otter will take us over to Inukjuak , an isolated posting further to the north on the east coast of Hudson Bay.
A Boeing B737 landing on the Kuujjuarapik (CYGW) 5000 feet gravel runway uses special procedures. This is a short runway for a loaded aircraft, and braking is less effective than on asphalt. There is no significant margin for error. The wheels must touch as close as possible to the runway threshold, followed by maximum breaking. Passengers really feel the deceleration. The same calculation applies for takeoff: the pilot positions the aircraft close to the runway threshold then applies both the brakes and maximum thrust, and once the appropriate parameters are reached , releases the brakes. As usual, weight and balance, density of the air, airport altitude as well as direction and strength of the winds are all precisely calculated for the aircraft to be airborne before the end of the runway.
1982 Kuujjuarapik. A Nordair Boeing B-737 in the foreground and an Austin Airways Twin Otter in the background.
1982 A flight service specialist (FSS) working at the Kuujjuarapik station, in Québec
After a short stopover, the Twin Otter is now ready for the trip to Inukjuak. The takeoff from Kuujjuarapik goes without problems. I am sitting in the first class section, behind some cargo held by a net. For champagne, I will have to wait for the boxes to be removed from the hallway.
1982 Cargo and passengers in the Twin Otter
1982. A view of Sanikiluaq from an Austin Airways Twin Otter.
Then a slow descent is started to Inukjuak. From my window, I can see a small group of narwhals. I feel like I’m dreaming but, after a quick research in scientific documents, learn that narwhals can be found in small groups mainly in the north of Hudson Bay.
The aircraft is now getting closer to Inukjuak. The flaps are extended and it is possible to see the runway before the airplane turns on final. It is two thousand feet long and made only of sand thick enough to render its surface unstable.
1982 Austin Airways Twin Otter on base for the Inukjuak airport runway
Upon arrival, someone comes my way with a motorcycle. He offers me a ride to the staff-house, even if there is only a fifteen or twenty seconds walk. I politely declined the offer, but the personage insists. Not wanting to give a bad impression just as I arrive, I finally accept and try to find a small place on the seat of his tiny motorcycle. Hardly have we started to move into the soft sand that the driver loses control of the vehicle. We fall (what a surprise!), but there is no serious consequence. Welcome to Inukjuak!
1982 Inukjuak inhabitant and canoes used for traditional activities
View of a small portion of the Transport Canada Training Institute in Cornwall, Ontario, in 1982
In the early 80s, the oil crisis forces airlines to greatly limit hiring. This was not the case during our pilot training course but becomes a reality when applying for a job a year later.
However, on the government side, the situation is quite different. The air traffic services branch of Transport Canada is looking for new employees to replace staff approaching retirement age. The only option immediately accessible to me is to apply as a flight service specialist (FSS). I have only a rough idea of what are the responsibilities, nothing more. But the pay and advantages are far better than what is otherwise available to a new flight instructor. It is time to send in an application.
For the Province of Quebec, two written examinations totally unrelated with aviation are held at the University of Quebec in Montreal. There are 1500 candidates (5 sessions of 300 applicants) who attempt these tests during the two days allotted for the first phase of the selection process. In the following weeks and months, those who have succeeded in the written tests must then undergo anything from personal interviews to language tests, medical examinations and security clearances.
We are now three candidates from Quebec heading towards the Transport Canada Training Institute in Cornwall. There will be thirty-five hours of theoretical and practical course per week, over a six months period. The pressure will be continuous and desired in order to eliminate candidates who may not react well to stress.
We will be paid to study. A candidate is guaranteed with a posting upon completion of training, providing he manages to obtain 80% and above on the written and practical evaluations. Because this 82-01 course is not dedicated to Quebecers only, it cannot be offered in French. So it is going to be in English only, and will include twenty-four students from almost all Canadian provinces.
The Transport Canada Training Institute in Cornwall is nothing short of exceptional for those who have decided to study and succeed.
In order to help the student to deal with the weekly thirty-five hours of courses and examinations, the school provides interesting amenities.Each student has a private room with daily maid service. The cafeteria offers a good choice of meals. Calories can be burned at the pool, gym, weight room, on the tennis court or on the baseball field. A snack bar remains open for late-night cravings. A bank teller is made available to students, as well as a hairdressing salon, a bar, arcade games, pool tables, etc.
1982 Cornwall TCTI Pool
Transport Canada Training Institute weight room. Cornwall, Ontario 1982
1982 Cornwall TCTI combat room
1982 TCTI, Cornwall. Students from the FSS 82-01 group are experimenting a new way to improve scoring at basketball.
1982 Cornwall TCTI games
So that we understand what lies ahead, we are told that there are traditionally many students in each class who will not keep pace and will be sent home, despite their efforts. For a francophone who wasn’t using a second language on a daily basis , it is clear that integrating new theory presented in English for seven and a half hours every day, five days a week, becomes demanding. I compensate for the times when my attention decreases by studying in the evening.
There is a library in the school as well as multiples rooms for flight simulators designed for every career considered by the students.
1982 Cornwall TCTI Flight Simulation Room
1982 TCTI Cornwall. Environment Canada upper air building.
1982 TCTI Cornwall Stevenson screens
In the courtyard, there is a peacock and other small animals and a water source flows into a very well planned landscape.
1982 Cornwall TCTI courtyard
The amenities are simply stunning. The message is clear: “Transport Canada only ask you to study and succeed, it will take care of the rest.”
1982 Cornwall TCTI corridors to classrooms
Finally, the moment we were all waiting for as arrived. Students who managed to get through the course celebrate their graduation.
Assignments are distributed. Those who will be working in isolated postings, in northern Quebec, are well aware that the schedule does not include holidays. The FSS will be on duty every day. The new employee will be compensated for overtime and a more expensive cost of life. He will also benefit from subsidized rents.
My departure is planned shortly for Inukjuak (CYPH), along the east coast of Hudson Bay in the Nunavik. Life will soon change radically.
(Next story: enroute to the first posting: Inukjuak)
(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)
