AOPA Pilot Magazine - February 2011 - 73

On an impulse, Andy circled around, landed on the lake alongside Hiram, and offered him a ride. The old man, a bit skeptical, wondered how they could bring his sled. After convincing Hiram to climb aboard, Andy loaded the supplies in the airplane and tied the snowshoes and sled to the airplane’s jury strut. The flight to Hiram’s cabin was uneventful. “Probably the only time anyone ever gave him a lift,” Andy says. Tying stuff onto struts and floats was fairly routine in those days. Canoes were commonly hauled tied to the float struts, as were lumber, long pipes, sheet metal, et cetera. In hunting season, deer were frequently hauled out strapped to the floats, as well as an occasional bear. Flying a Seabee For several years in the late 1940s and early 1950s, Ray O’Donnell operated a flying service in Greenville, located in the buildings now occupied by the Maine Forest Service. O’Donnell’s fleet when I knew him was comprised of an Aeronca Champ and a Republic Seabee. The Seabee, a classic amphibian flying boat, he quite literally used as a truck. O’Donnell had removed the heavy landing gear to allow a greater payload. I must admit I was a bit skeptical about the Seabee. It didn’t look like it should fly well, with that big, blunt cabin; pusher propeller; and skinny aft fuselage. Some pilots I knew dismissed it as having the glide ratio of a brick. As a neophyte, these comments made an impression on me. The one time I flew in O’Donnell’s Seabee it left me impressed with its ability to haul freight. O’Donnell flew up to Nugent’s on Chamberlain to fly me and the hunter I’d been guiding back to Greenville. This “sport” of mine had brought a mountain of clothing and survival gear for his week’s stay. We had piled this all on the dock, along with the eight-point 180-pound buck he’d shot. I figured O’Donnell would need two flights to take it all out. In my estimation the Seabee had one flaw: Its huge, comfortable cabin was just too big. It was just too tempting to keep piling stuff in there. We kept loading that gear until the Seabee had swallowed it all. Then we put the big buck on top of the pile, and all climbed aboard. The takeoff for me was white-knuckle time. Naturally, the lake that day was almost flat calm—no assist from wind to provide lift. Fortunately, Chamberlain Lake is some 20 miles long, so we

had plenty of runway. It seemed to take forever for the big, lumbering Seabee to get on step, and then an interminably long run up the lake before the airplane finally, reluctantly, lifted off. (I later found out O’Donnell didn’t believe in using flaps on takeoff.) The return flight to Greenville was uneventful, although our climbout seemed painfully slow. By the time we reached Greenville, 60 miles away, we were only some 800 feet agl. I was a bit surprised, as we approached East Cove, that O’Donnell didn’t set up a gradual, straight-in approach as was the norm. Instead he held the altitude until we were directly over Mile Light, which marks the north end of the cove. I figured he was going to circle to set up a landing approach. Instead, with only a mile of water left beneath us, O’Donnell eased the throttle back what seemed a minute amount. The Seabee slid down out of the sky as if on an elevator. In seconds he was flaring—and on the water in as neat a landing as you could ever hope to see. Thanks to the thousands of miles of roadways built by the major landowners in the 1970s, when it became cheaper to haul wood by trucks than sending it down rivers, the need for much of the aerial bush hauling has been pretty much eliminated. Today it’s generally possible to haul freight by truck—or combination truck/boat—to most places in Maine’s north country. Seldom today will you see a refrigerator or load of lumber ferried by airplane. One of the busiest flying services in the area, Jack Currier’s at Greenville Junction, now relies solely on tourism and scenic flights. He and his pilots never have to load near or over gross; they take off and land in familiar locations, and tourists likely wouldn’t take kindly to being strapped to the pontoons. (Closest I ever saw: legendary bush pilot Charlie Coe flying Folsom’s Beaver with a guy sitting in the float compartments on each side with their heads sticking out, as a stunt at the International Seaplane Fly-In.) Some few oldsters might experience a twinge of nostalgia for those days of virtually unrestricted aerial derring-do, but the FAA, at least, must relish the new, saner attitude in the northern skies.

We’re all new!

Experience Trade-A-Plane in a greater way at our all-new website. Advanced searches, more detailed results, expanded content. Clean, fresh design and easier navigation. Selling? A ordable, online-only listings are now available in many of our categories. Visit us today!
AOP

8 0 0 - 3 3 7 - 5 2 6 3

XRX
Only portable system with direction.

Paul J. Fournier, AOPA 5799247, of Palm Bay, Florida, is a commercial pilot with more than 2,000 hoursof flying time. He spends his summers in Maine.
AOPA PILOT • 73 • FEBRUARY 2011

www.zaon.aero (800) 496-9430

http://www.trade-a-plane.com http://www.zaon.aero http://www.zaon.aero

AOPA Pilot Magazine - February 2011

Table of Contents for the Digital Edition of AOPA Pilot Magazine - February 2011