The Great Arctic Air Adventure Blog

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