The Great Arctic Air Adventure Blog

After a great night’s sleep in our warm soft beds here at our hotel in downtown Ottawa, we wandered down for a hot breakfast before being picked up for our day’s activities by our gracious hosts, John Longair, Katie Longair, and Dave O’Malley. First up was a stop at the Canada Aviation Museum, where Associate Director General Stephen Quick and Communications Manager Christina Lucas gave us a special showing through this national treasure of aviation history. The museum was actually temporarily closed for renovation, but Steve and Christina made a trip in on a Sunday for a special showing to the GAAA team.

During our visit, we also learned that our landing site here on the Ottawa River played host to some famous visitors in the past. In 1931, Charles and Anne Lindbergh were commissioned by Pan Am to conduct a survey flight to the Orient in an effort to find the fastest route from New York to Tokyo. Flying a highly modified Lockheed Sirius fitted out with floats, the Lindberghs departed on July 27, 1931 from Long Island, New York, and made their first stop here in Ottawa, landing and docking in the very spot were the GAAA team arrived yesterday. Interestingly, the Lindbergh’s next stop was Baker Lake, which you may remember as the place that created a bit of excitement for the GAAA crew a couple of weeks back. The Lindbergh’s evidently had an easier time, as Anne describes it as a “gray and drab” place. Or, perhaps a little wind and a few waves in Baker Lake were of little consequence to the man who had flown solo from New York to Paris. The Lindberghs successfully completed their trip to China, but, unfortunately, the Sirius was damaged while be hoisted aboard the British carrier Hermes.

While wandering through the vast collection of aircraft at the museum, we stumbled upon what is, in at least our biased opinion, the most significant aircraft in the collection. As we descended the stairs, there was a de Havilland Beaver CF-FHB. This was the prototype — the very first Beaver — built in 1947, and incredibly, was still being flown by a northern operator when purchased by the Museum in 1980. This excerpt, borrowed in part from the museum’s website says it all:

The Beaver was designed and built in response to the demands of Canadian bush operators. Almost without variation, the pilots asked for tremendous extra power and short take-off-and-landing (STOL) performance in a design that could be easily fitted with wheels, skis, or floats. When de Havilland engineers noted that this would result in poor cruise performance, one pilot replied “You only have to be faster than a dog sled”. With its all-metal construction, high-lift wing, and flap configuration, the Beaver was a robust aircraft with excellent capability even with heavy loads.

The Beaver was such a success that more were built than any other aircraft designed and manufactured in Canada. In 1951 it won both the US Air Force and US Army competitions for a utility aircraft. Many were used in Korea, where it was known as the “general’s jeep”.

The GAAA team would like to thank our hosts Christina and Stephen for showing the GAAA team through the Canada Aviation Museum, a national tribute to the significant contributions that our good friends the Canadians have made to the world of aviation.

Next stop was Vintage Wings of Canada, an amazing collection of aircraft where our hosts John, Katie, and Dave serve as volunteers. This collection is composed of all flying aircraft, and covers the range from a de-Havilland Tiger Moth to a Supermarine Spitfire. And of course, the collection includes an outstanding de Havilland Beaver, proving that the folks at Vintage Wings really got it right.

With that, our hosts dropped us back at our warm and cozy hotel where the GAAA crew worked on arrangements for our flight into Toronto tomorrow, the birthplace of the Beaver. But that is a story for another day.

Thanks again, John, Katie, and Dave for making our time here in Ottawa a memorable one.

Doug and the GAAA Team

Still at N45 27 49 W75 38 45

As I rolled over in my warm and toasty sleeping bag, I became aware of a low roaring…. Doug! What is that noise?? I kept expecting to hear the full blown airplane start up, as had happened about 6:00 am the morning before. You see, we were camped out next to the taxiway at the Greenville Airport…a veritable tent city, complete with a cacophony of snoring,coupled with the sounds of civilization- what a change from the absolute quiet and solitude of sleeping on the beach of a remote lake in Canada just 24 hours before. Then came a screech of wheels and a clank of a car door. “Coffee anyone?” asked the now familiar voice of our “Maine” man, our shuttle driver, Michel. It was 6:45 am and within 45 minutes, we had dressed and packed up our tents, sleeping bags, and camera gear and loaded them into the extra large van and headed off through the misty morning toward town and …food! We wouldn’t be taking off too soon, if the fog didn’t lift.

The site of our previous morning’s delicious repast, Auntie M’s, was too crowded this morning, so Michele whisked us off for a lovely drive through this charming town to The Landing, a quaint spot on the west shore. Once satiated, with the fog still too low to depart, the ladies passed the time by visiting the craft fair, which seemed to have magically appeared since yesterday, while the guys spent more time on the phone getting weather reports and re-setting customs rendezvous times. The town was a-buzz with seaplane lovers of all ages and after some announcements , our pilots Doug and Mark waxed eloquent, while interviewed about the GAAA adventure on the announcer’s stand.

By now, it was 11:00 and the much ballyhooed seaplane/canoes races were about to begin. Now, I must admit, I wasn’t too disappointed about our departure delay, as I was quite curious about this local competition. It went like this: There were teams of 2, a seaplane (The first up was a Cessna 185) and a canoeist. Timing began as they both set out from the dock; the roar of the Cessna engine as it drug the heavy craft through the water, a juxtaposition to the quiet swiftness of the canoe, both pressing toward the small dock anchored in the middle of the lake. Once there, the pilot jumped out and helped the canoeist strap the canoe onto the float, both jumped back into the plane, roared toward the next buoy, cut the engine to idle, did a 180 around the buoy, put in full power and raced back toward the dock . They must then dock the plane and take the canoe off the float, before the timing was complete. The time for the first team was 3 minutes, 19 seconds! Whew! …the tension…!!!

Unfortunately, our schedule calling, we had to depart before watching the other contestants. We departed to the south in formation, banked to the right and did a 180 ourselves, to do a low pass over the crowd in thanks for their great hospitality. What a great town! What genuine and gracious people! This is one place we all hope to return…soon.

It was Norma’s turn to fly right seat, so I sat behind Doug with the lens of the Nikon against the window. Incredibly, the trees are turning to autumn colors in this latitude and had changed dramatically since our passage through , just 2 days ago.. The forested hills became rolling plains of farmland, and as I snapped continuously the many hues and textures which sped beneath me, I pondered my great fortune at being able to experience what relatively few will ever see and how lucky I am to be able to share a part of this adventure with my partner and my best friend. Ah, what an incredible way to see this beautiful country!

We crossed back into Canada and around 2:30, where we reached the point of our customs clearing on the Richelieu River, just north of Lake Champlain, where Quebec meets the States of New York and Vermont. We landed on the water and spotted the flying Canadian flag, as we watched several sailboats jockeying for position around the dock. Like well-trained Americans, we taxied into the que, this, apparently, being a foreign idea to several of the boaters. At length, as we drifted a few hundred yards away, Mark “nosed” his Beaver in to the bulkhead, there being no seaplane friendly dock, and customs was cleared without much effort. So little effort in fact, that I was not given my bio-break as promised…. Desperation breeds creativity and … well…I promise to wash your water bottle really well, Jim!

Another hour of flying,and we crossed the St. Lawrence River and winged our way up the Ottawa River where we were met at the dock by our hosts for the next 36 hours, Dave O’Malley and John Longair of the Vintage Wings of Canada Museum. Doug says one can never see too many aviation museums,,, tomorrow we’ll see two.

We’re staying in a nice hotel for the next few nights and trying to readjust to the social norms of civilization. For Norma and I, the transition is pretty easy. We’ve only been with the GAAA a week, for the guys, especially Mark and Doug a feeling of “I don’t quite belong here” seemed to ring universally true. I wonder how long it took Roald Amundsen or John Rae after being gone for months, years to feel “normal” again???? Maybe, after experiences like this, you never do….

From co-ordinates – N45 27 49 W75 38 45

Rockcliffe SPB, CTR7

Robbi-I-fell-off-the-float- DeVries

The shout-out goes to Rodney Folsom, the fuel-master back in Greenville, Maine,( pumps-yeah!) and to our friends and family –thanks for all your support!

After pushing hard for several weeks, the crew is relishing a deserved day off. Auntie M’s Diner in downtown Greenville provided a home cooked breakfast that was a welcomed break to the normal instant oatmeal fare. The prediction of rain and wind is not panning our for the Moosehead Lake Region, so lunch at the Black Frog was served outside on their floating Tiki Bar.

In the warming sun, we were constantly entertained by the never-ending barrage of low altitude fly-bys. What a great town this is! Cubs, Taylorcrafts, ultralights, Cessnas of all types and colors buzzing right down Main Street, all eyes upturned. But instead of folks running to the phone to call the local FAA office to report low flying aircraft, there is a reverence expressed by the onlookers, and an occasional “Oouu” or “Aaah”. It seems as if everyone in this town loves airplanes.

It got me to thinking about how many thousands and thousands of times I have watched an airplane take off or land or fly by; and yet when I hear that sound, I am impelled to turn my head and watch, regardless of what is going on in my life at that moment. In Greenville, Maine, there is no shame in it. People fly, drive, walk, or canoe to this beautiful little town on the south shore of Moosehead Lake in droves from all over the country to sit on the docks, or in lawn chairs, or on the tops of their RV’s, to watch airplanes. This is my kind of town.

The highlight perhaps, was multiple fly-bys by a 1954 Grumman Albatross operated by a delightful crew based out of Virginia. This behemoth flying boat sports a pair of giant Wright Cyclone R-1820 radial engines rated at 1500 hp each, emitting a roar not often heard in this day and age. All the diners at the Tiki Bar watched in awe as windows rattled and the ground shook.

Much of the day was spent down at the docks chatting with other attendees about our trip, seaplane flying and of course, the venerable Beaver. I especially enjoyed talking to young Sydney and Kyle Tilton with their parents Jeff and Cheri from Richmond, ME. Our friend, Mark Mathieson, head test pilot for Wipline Floats is here showing off the only float-equipped Kodiak Quest in the world. Mark took a tour and dreamed.

As we are headed back to Canada tomorrow, Doug and Mark spent the better part of the afternoon trying to arrange customs. You’d think it would not be so difficult.

This evening we were treated to a steak and lobster feast in Telford Allen’s hanger. Doug and Mark were asked to say a few words to the favorable crowd.

Many thanks to our generous hosts, the two Telford Allens, Darralyn Gauvin (thank you Darralyn for your help shipping our rafts!), air boss Tom, Mic, Peter, and John and the rest of the Greenville Fly-in Committee, who have extended to us a most warm welcome. We had a great day in Greenville.

Warmest regards,

GAAA Team

We departed Lac des Plaines seaplane base at Havre St Pierre with Captain-in-training Dan Noble flying left seat in Mark’s Beaver. Doug, unaware of the crew change in N2SF, received several curt “stand-by” responses from N2SF in response to the usual plane-to-plane banter. Evidently instructor Mark had informed trainee Dan of the three priorities of flying (in decreasing order of priority): aviate, navigate, and communicate. However, the relatively useless drivel that passes for communication between our planes has become a central part of the adventure. Having your wingman out there looking out for you and sharing your pain during the stressful times has become a key part of the experience, and when the radio goes quiet there is a sense of loss, of being a lone castaway abandoned in the expansive skies. So we were all happy when Captain Mark finished his training duties and resumed his role as our aviation talk show host.

Banking the Beavers to the south west, we spent some time exploring the unique stone sculptures of Mingin Islands National Park, all the while assuring the inquisitive CARS radio lady that we were maintaining the (ahem) requisite 1,000 feet AGL. Tiring of harassing the good folks of Havre St Pierre, we climbed to 4,500 feet to cross the Saint Lawrence Seaway via the Strait of Jacques-Cartier and the Strait of D’ Honguedo. For the GAAA’ers, flying at this altitude is equivalent to peering down from high-earth orbit, as we normally fly low enough to “smell the roses”. Up here, where normal aviators fly, we see the forest, but not the trees. We see the ancient game trails, but not the caribou or moose who travel them. In short, we are seeing the big picture, but missing the rich details below that have so connected us to the land on this journey. Not to worry – having crossed the strait, we descended to tree top level and were immediately rewarded by the sight of a big bull moose wading across a lake in search of a fresh feeding area. We are once again bound to the good earth.

Pressing on, we landed at Jackman Lake and taxied to the Moose River Seaplane Base to clear Customs, where we were talked through a rather dicey docking by fellow pilot and proprietor Steve Coleman. The procedure went something like this:

1. Land on Jackman Lake, into the wind and as close to the mouth of the Moose River outflow as possible.
2. Water taxi into the flowing river, being ever vigilant to hug the right bank and avoid the sharp rocks to the left.
3. Taxi past the dock, and move to the RH side of the river with right wing hanging over numerous obstructions including boats and small float planes.
4. Make a left180 degree turn against the current in a wide spot in the river that is really not wide enough to turn a Beaver. Tighten turn by raising water rudders midway through the turn, allowing the current to accelerate the turn. (A newly acquired skill for the GAAA pilots).
5. Brush shrubs on far side of river with right wing.
6. Pull plane into very small space on dock, careful not to hit N2SF ahead, or the boats behind with the tailplane.
7. Remove soiled undergarments and replace with a clean set, or the closest facsimile found aboard.

After clearing customs, we took off for our final destination of the day, the Greenville Seaplane splash-in, located on Moosehead Lake in Maine. After a formation flight over the docks, we set up for final approach and touched down at about 5:00 PM. While on approach, we noticed an upside down seaplane bobbing “floats up” in the water surrounded by several boats. Not to worry, we later learned that the ultralight seaplane flipped over when caught by an errant gust, but the pilot was safe and the craft was soon righted with little harm done.

We were immediately whisked away for a cruise and dinner on Moosehead Lake, sharing our stories of daring-do with fellow seaplane enthusiasts. Later, after setting up camp at the airport, we crawled into our cozy bags and reflected on the days events while listening to the occasional sweet sound of an arriving aircraft.

It was another Great Day for the GAAA.

Doug and the GAAA Team

N45 27.8 W 69 35.6

The day started at 4:30 AM when I woke to the sounds of some bird life cooing outside my tent flap. I hurried to locate the creature with such a beautiful voice, but found nothing but sea fog covering the lake and sandy beach where we set the planes down last evening and spent the night. The fog will allow me a few more hours in this land of personal paradise.

Soon we all rallied to make a breakfast of pancakes and heated syrup, all with a little bit of sand mixed in for local texture. Soon the “Flat Jack Flipping Olympics” started with Dr. Dan from Lincoln Nebraska winning the gold. As he stepped up to the podium to receive his gold metal (a tent rope with a yellow tent stake attached), instead of the National Anthem we sang the following song written by Kim Schoening and family for the International Order of Arrowhead Point Pancake Flippers.

We are flippers of flapjacks.
We’re here to make a comeback.
We think that flipping is just grand.
We always make them pancakes,
We never make them sandcakes,
They always seem to hit the pan.
And when they slide to and fro
We know it’s time to flip them,
And o’er they go.
We never seem to miss, by crackie.

We have formed an order, that is known beyond the border, known as the IOAPF ( International Order of Arrowhead Point Pancake Flippers.)

Pick your own catchy little tune and enjoy this song.

We departed our private lake on the coast of Labrador around 10:00 a.m. to find our next fuel stop. A main activity of this Great Arctic Air Adventure is fueling up. These Beavers are very thirsty animals, taking about five 55 gallon drums of fuel at a stop. At $10.00 a gallon, you do the math.

Our first fuel stop of the day was at Forte’ Pond where we were met by Ronald Letto, owner of Strait Air who runs a charter business for moose hunters into Newfoundland. He was low on fuel as he was using most of his own fuel preparing for a big hunt. So many 5 gallon “Jerry Cans” later, we had enough fuel to get to the next fueling station. We want to say “Thanks” to Ron for the work of running to the airport and getting the fuel for us, plus his hospitality while we were there. Before leaving the GAAA crew topped off the morning with a few mishaps. One crew member slipped off the float and went into the lake… totally under. Now friends, it’s very cold water up here. Another crew member dropped one of her hip wader boats in the lake and it quickly went to the bottom and had to be retrieved. A couple jerry can lids and spouts flipped over board, and as we made our exit we lost a hat in the lake plus a very expensive lens cover from one of the movie cameras. Sometimes you just have those days.
Soon we were traveling over some of the most beautiful country, a land of millions of fantastic wooded lakes, not a soul for hundreds of miles. I started to realize how lucky I was to be a small part of this fantastic adventure. I was traveling over and setting down in lakes that most of the world will never have the chance to see, or even know they exist. This circumnavigation of Canada could have been done in wheel planes in a much shorter time, but you couldn’t touch down and have a picnic or camp at any lake you desire. This is the only way to travel and really see the landscape.

Our next fueling station was in Havre-St-Pierre Quebec, where Andre Jomphe and crew got us fueled up. Upon finishing, we set off to town for a fantastic seafood meal. Havre-St-Pierre is a French town -no english written or spoken here. A very interesting fishing town, it’s worth looking this one up.

The GAAA team thanks you for taking this trip with us. We only wish that someday you could be here too.

Wednesday Sept. 3rd Co-Pilot for N67DN signing off and shutting down, . 2300 hrs

Good night and stay healthy, Norma from the GAAA team.

A shout out to Stehekin and all our friends following this adventure.

N50 15.48
W63 33.02

For the crew of Lisa, Eric and Mark that was camping out, an early start brought a spectacular sunrise. After a quick breakfast of oatmeal mixed with granola and powdered milk, the tips tanks were topped off from jerry cans and 2SF broke water a bit after 9 AM Atlantic Time (we keep losing hours) from a pristine Labradoran lake. The short flight to Goose Bay was spent discussing great canoeing rivers in the west, with many good recommendations shared. The placid waters of Otter Creek were a welcome sight.

Freeman Poole, base manager for Air Labrador was on the dock to greet us along with one of the fine dock hands, Bush. Also on the dock was CBC Radio Goose Bay Bureau reporter Kate, with her microphone, recording the idling sound of the Beaver as it pulled up to the dock. Once Doug and the crew returned to the base, we had a pleasant chat with Kate, discussing our adventure for the benefit of listeners all across Labrador. I’m sure there is a way to access Kate’s feature on the trip, which we understand will air in the next couple of days, by logging onto the CBC website.

We had a nice chat with Warwick Pike, who, along with his brother Roger, are the proprietors of Air Labrador. Besides thanking Warwick for his hospitality at the base, we listened some of his stories about bush flying in Labrador during the last 40 years. It is interesting to note that while Air Labrador no longer operates Beavers, the company has a rich tradition spanning several decades of operating De Havilland aircraft. The current fleet is almost exclusively De Havillands (they operate ONE Caravan) including Dash 8’s and Twin Otters on wheels, skis and floats.

Freeman, Eric and Mark held a ceremony for Doug’s benefit. While we have been previously a bit disappointed at not attaining our goal of reaching the Magnetic North Pole, Freeman pointed out that the lake that 2SF camped at last night was named “North Pole Lake”. Well that was good enough for us, so we surprised Doug with a Santa hat, meant to be presented at the MNP.

Fueling went very quickly with the aid of dock hand Shane, and a fuel hose, an odd new contraption with which we have been unfamiliar for the past few weeks. Strangely and conveniently, it allows one to refuel an aircraft with out using a fuel drum, hand pump, jerry can, or pick-up truck. It is as if the fuel appears magically. We were all delighted at this new invention.

Subway sandwiches were purchased by the airport shuttle team of Dave and Norma, Robbie was met at baggage claim, and we all enjoyed a reunion and lunch on the dock as the temperature climbed to 85d. Hugs were exchanged as we said goodbye to David and Lisa. David has been such a key member of the team, who along with his wife, Carol, has kept our website fires burning. Lisa brought fun, hard work, and great weather to the team during her brief four days with us. She also brought Mark some needed family time. Thank you to David and Lisa. Until the next adventure, happy travels to you both.

Thank you also to Warwick, Freeman, Bush and Shane for their hospitality at Otter Creek.

Our departure in blustery winds brought new views. First of all, the addition of Robbie and Norma has once again energized our team with new team chemistry. Secondly, our 320 nautical mile sightseeing tour out to the Atlantic Ocean, down the coast and into Belle Strait at the mouth of the St Lawrence Seaway, revealed the amazing quilt works of rocky islands, shores and fishing villages that is the Labrador Coast. We had not seen such scenery prior to today. Seeing the Atlantic, and finally making the turn westbound on the one month anniversary of our departure from Lake Washington, caused us to reflect on the past four weeks and all that we have experienced. For fun, Doug brought up PAE on the GPS (the identifier for Paine Field in Everett, a few miles north of our hometown of Kenmore) and found that we have 2553 nautical miles to go, and two and a half weeks in which to do it. We have gone as far as we can go in this great land of Canada. Turning towards the setting sun and donning sunglasses, our little band of adventurers is finally heading home.

With fond thoughts to all our missed friends and family,

From our beach front campsite at N51d.38 W56d.52,

The GAAA Team

There are signs:

It could be that we haven’t been fighting a headwind for the last couple of days…

Perhaps it’s because we haven’t had an Arctic Char feast for a few days…

Come to think of it we didn’t set up our Polar Bear defenses last night…

Or it could be that last night we landed in relatively flat water and pulled the planes up on a nice sandy beach free of rocks and pounding wind waves…

The bears are black instead of white…

Maybe it’s because we pulled up to an actual seaplane dock in Kuujjuaq this morning, and refueled with Avgas instead of auto gas…

It could be all of these things, but I think the campfire we had last night, enabling us to warm our feet was the final sign.

Yes we have departed the Arctic – and are saddened for our loss. After whining about the rigors of the north for the last few weeks, and fearing that we might get stuck up there for the winter, it is an unexpected emotion, but I think we are all experiencing it.

We all miss the Arctic our own way, but for me I think our travels have suddenly become too easy. There is something about fighting for each mile against the elements of wind, rain, and cold that gives you a certain satisfaction at the end of the day. Perhaps it’s the vastness of the place, the thousands of miles of tundra inhabited by some of the toughest animals and humans on the planet that changes your focus. For the last few weeks, we’ve had no news of or interest in the politics, financial markets, or other functions of western society that normally dominate our day-to-day lives. We’ve just being concerned with eking out another mile, getting fuel, and experiencing this exotic place.

Yesterday, after crossing into the Boreal Forests, finding a campsite with available firewood became a priority. And so after a brief search for a suitable site, alert GAAA’er Dave Good spotted wood lying on a beach, immediately clinching the place as our campsite.

After three weeks in a land with no trees, the return of the evening’s fire and the warm and cheery atmosphere it provided was welcomed by the weary GAAA team.

And so after listening to the soothing patter of a warm and friendly rain on our tent flaps last night, we broke camp and made the short hop to Kuujjuaq where we glided to rest at a seaplane-friendly dock, and pumped real Avgas from drums into our thirsty Beavers. While there, we spent some time with legendary bush pilots Johnny and Billy May. Johnny, who has logged an incredible 20,000 hours of flying in these parts, was one of the first native pilots in the north. For these guys, the rigors we experienced over the last few weeks are just another day at the office. Out hats our off to Johnny and Billy, who endure bad weather and engine failures with no complaint.

Departing Kuujjuaq, we headed south to “Caribou Central”, an area about one hundred miles south rumored to be swarming with the hoofed herbivores. Alas, our efforts yielded little, as we only saw three of the elusive reindeer. However, ever vigilant GAAA’er Dave spotted two black bears, another sign that we were returning to a familiar land.

Mark and crew opted to land at a lake about 60 miles NW of Goose Bay (N54 02, W61 36) while Doug and crew pressed on to the Otter Creek Seaplane base at Goose Bay to meet up with incoming GAAA’ers Norma Ward and Robbi DeVries (Doug’s spousal unit.) Doug and crew were greeted by Freeman Poole of Air Labrador who provided a well appreciated docking space and loads of support and goodwill to the weary travelers. Thank you, Freeman, for your warm hospitality.

Norma, who by now had made friends with the entire town, took us out for a nice dinner, each of us savoring the fresh food while sipping our “spirit” of choice.

Did anybody hear what the Dow did yesterday…?

Until tomorrow,

Doug and the GAAA Team

N53 21, W60 25

Carol, our webmaster Dave Good’s gracious wife, (he’s Good naturedly with us) has been responsible for all you armchair explorers getting your daily dose of drizzle. Thank you Carol from the GAAA team!

But today it is a whole different story. From a cameraman’s perspective (cause that’s who’s bloggin’ tonight, folks) we went from mud and rain and wind and low contrast overcast gray dismal days of soldiering, slogging, and being grounded in unpredictable unflyable, unfilmable, tent-bound weather to another weather report of 40 knot winds and 60 knot gusts and four more tent bound days near Coral Harbor. So we jumped ahead of the storm. All of a sudden the heavens opened yesterday and stayed that way and Eric starting filming everything that walked in hip waders or four hairy legs or attempted winged head-on collisions with a Beaver windshield, and we found ourselves believing that it was Mark’s sister Lisa who had flown all the way from Germany who had brought blue skies with her. Thank you, Lisa, for the weather, and the German chocolate, and a delightful example of how a brother and sister can get along for almost half a century and hug while flying as co-pilots. We picked Lisa up in Coral Harbor where the sailor/cameraman/editor/photographer and cheerful Jim Clark gave up his spot for a week. Jim, how many times have we chuckled at Doug and Mark telling us they were in T shirts when they made their reconnaissance flight last year up north? I witnessed three of our group in that very fashion this very morning with the temperature climbing to 60 degrees at the time of our slide in on a quiet windless lake with trees.

HUH?! WHAT!? Did I say the T word? Yes, folks, the big news today is that at about the 58d.28m parallel, the forests (albeit small dwarf pines) have suddenly emerged after a very tense $5. per head bet amongst the six sojourners over who could guess the closest latitude where a clump of trees would emerge. Eric won the wager having bet last and just calling out a number lower than anyone else’s. Everyone’s grumbling, but he nailed it within 2 miles. But there are many things to wager: when Mark will first fall off a float after 30 years of flying float planes, or who snores the loudest among Dan, Dave, Eric, Mark, or Lisa. (We can’t hear Doug because he has his white noise maker going constantly which is like one long snore.) So far, (though there is no recorded proof or admission of guilt), people are ganging up on Eric as being the one who is keeping our campsites free of bears. Thank you, Eric.

Before that, though, we made a sea-landing visit to another spectacular iceberg we nicknamed the Crown Berg since it had spires around it worthy of royalty. Mark was determined to hop off his plane onto the floating majesty, but he’d left his ice-axe at home and decided that it was a bit slick for his fingernails and tennis shoes. After seeing and touching an iceberg that towers overhead, one gets the distinct feeling of shaking hands with a gentle giant -the ocean was blue green, the sky dappled with white beautiful and benign clouds, and things started looking like National Geographic magazine for a change. That means shooting video is soooo much more fun. After taking off and flying a few more miles, Lisa spotted her first Muskox, then several, and then a small band of 15 or so. We’re still searching for the reputed herds of 40,000 caribou, and maybe we’ll make another bet about when we’ll see more than two at a time, but we’ll leave that for another blog. The sun is setting earlier and earlier, and those who thought a flashlight wouldn’t be needed in the arctic because the sun barely sets (that would be me) will be sorrier and sorrier as they travel further south.

Shout outs go to FCNQ Petrol Tagulik Qisiiq who opened his station in the small coastal town of Kangiqsujuaq (CYKG for the flight sim boyz) and pumped gas on Sunday, and to Aloupa and his wife Lizzy who drove several times the many jerry cans full of car gas several miles from a lake to the gas station and back again. But from someone who is blogging for the first time I have to acknowledge Mark for his infectious and indefatigable enthusiasm, story telling, and helpfulness, and Doug, for his steadfastness, tireless, analytical and even-keeled nature. And one can’t say enough of their inventiveness in the face of myriad ever-changing challenges of both aeronautical and practical nature. Just one example is that unless you’ve experienced it, it is incomprehensible what it takes to load and unload a small float plane (remember we’re floating over water) of enough camping and cooking and photographic gear to comfort a small army, and do it on a daily basis for 6 weeks. That and hand pumping 120 gallons of fuel in each plane every day. To them my hat is off, even on a bad hair day.

This just in from Jim Clark who has reported that the two beavers and their fortunate passengers barely escaped out of Coral Harbor which was deluged with lightning, wind and rain as soon as we departed for sunshine in the south. That’s all for now, folks, but if we have a few more beautiful filming days like this one, we’ll have a movie that will inspire and thrill the most cynical among us. See you at the movies.

Eric and the GAAA Team

Current location:

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W68d 35.057m