October 27th, 2011
Published by: mooresb
Distant Island Chapter One Rememberances Of A Far Away Place & Time By Robert W. Butche October 27th, 2011
Keith and Bob graduated in the University School class of 1954. Even as they pursued far different careers, they often shared fishing trips. Usually, those trips were to Canada's Manitoulin Island. The trips were made in one of Bob's aircraft -- sometimes his AeroCommander 560, and sometimes in his sprightly TwinCommanche. Both were well suited to the over water route taken in this story In this first installment, Bob and Keith re-live a typical flight and arrival. In the doing, we learn something of the people and beauty of Manitoulin and nearby Georgian Bay. The Gore Bay airport lies almost due north of Port Columbus so Bob chose a NASA satellite photo to give the reader a clearer picture of the aeronautical portions of this story. The large lake in the upper half of this photo is Lake Huron. You'll note that there is a large island along the north shore of Lake Huron ( Manitoulin Island ) as well as a spit of land jutting northward from the Ontario mainland. To give readers a better idea of International Air Traffic Control procedures, Bob has included the lingo and jargon of pilot-to-controller communications. The flight described in this chapter crosses Lake Erie from over Sandusky Bay, then directly north on a long over water route to make land at Providence Bay on the south shore of Manitoulin Island. For the most part, these communications relate to position reports. For example, Sailfish is an intersection of two navigational aids at mid lake. "Contact Toronto Center now on one thirty one point three" instructs the pilot to call a Canadian Air Route Traffic controller in Toronto on a radio frequency of 131.3 megahertz. The term IFR is used to describe a flight that is taking place entirely under the control of ground-based controllers. The letters stand for Instrument Flight Rules. Pilots may cancel their IFR flight plans in flight and return to VFR ( Visual Flight Rules ) to continue their flight. The flight in this story takes place in an AeroCommander model 560 aircraft. This airplane is still in wide use today for charter and executive transport. It seats seven people, has two Lycoming 350-horsepower engines. Its gross ( fully loaded ) weight is about 7500 pounds. Bob's AC-560 was equipped with deicing equipment, and fully IFR certified. For long flights, it even had extendedrange fuel tanks that provided up to 1700 miles non-stop
range. The fishing flights to Gore Bay were made in several of Bob's aircraft -- and on some trips, when many people were traveling, two or more aircraft would be used. Some visitors would occasionally choose to drive as well. For small fishing parties, Bob usually preferred to use his Piper PA30 -known as a TwinCommanche. The smaller aircraft was very comfortable for two or three people on the flight to Gore Bay. The TwinCommanche is no longer in production and photos are hard to come by, so we've included a photo of a NASA PA30 in landing configuration. Chapter One They Called Him Colin He claimed to be from Toronto, but his Irish twang said he grew up in Sudbury. Truth be told, he sometimes lived in Toronto in the winter, but Colin Montgomery was never a city dweller. His place in the Sun was called Manitoulin -- a gentle and sprawling island nestled along the north shore in the Georgian Bay region of Lake Huron. "It's all bullshit," Colin would enthusiastically proclaim to some unwitting Yankee who might show off his knowledge of Canada by saying that Manitoulin Island is the largest freshwater island in the world -- which is true. True or not, it was a prime opportunity for Colin to ply his peculiar sense of humor. "Problem is tellin' what's island and what's lake," he would explain to the newcomers, more than a little tongue in cheek. "Don't-cha fellers know there's eighty great big lakes on this here island?" By this time, insiders knew one of Colin's tall-tales was coming. Such tales sometimes left first-time visitors uncertain about whether they had offended their Canadian host. They listened intently as the ruddy faced Irishman with the unlit remainder of a cigarette dangling perilously from the left side of his mouth, continued. "Hells' bells," he would confidently proclaim to the unwary, "we didn't even have cars out Kagawong way 'til last summer. It's a lot better now," he would assure the newcomer with the rarest of twinkles in his eyes, ". . . we don't have to swim into town fer groceries any more." For reasons I don't fully understand, this story always left new visitors perplexed and confused. Maybe that was how Colin wanted it -- for anybody who wasn't wise to his colorful tales of the north bay was in for tough sledding. 1