AOPA Pilot Magazine - October 2011 - 58

Adrian Eichhorn examines the wreckage of an American T–33 jet in Greenland (left), one of three that crashed there in 1968. The pilots were unable to land because of fog, ran out of fuel, and safely ejected. Two Kangerlussuaq residents (top). Overlooking Disko Bay on a clear, dry summer day with visibility in excess of 200 miles (above).

In the weeks leading up to departure, most of the participants meet in person, divide the responsibilities for planning, and coordinate via email. Eichhorn sets the route after consulting with numerous ferry pilots and compiles charts and approach plates; Ernie chases down avgas (a complicated task in areas where most airplanes burn jet fuel—avgas is only available in 55-gallon drums, and fuel transfer pumps are scarce). I arrange for places to stay. We assemble in Bangor, Maine, on a rainy Monday, where Maine Aero Services provides a one-stop shop for immersion suits, inflatable rafts, and other equipment for Atlantic crossings. We file our eAPIS computerized Customs forms and set out for Sept-Iles, Quebec, where we clear Canadian customs that afternoon. The next day we fly to Schefferville, a small mining town on the Quebec/Labrador border, and buy
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fuel from drums carried in the bed of a pickup truck, and then continue north to Iqaluit (e-Kallawit) on Canada’s far north Baffin Island (see “Flying in the True North,” December 2010 AOPA Pilot). We tune in the air-to-air frequency (126.7 MHz) that pilots use in this region, but since almost all the conversation is in French, listening adds little to our situational awareness. The names of some of the places we overfly (Riviére a la Baleine, Lac Gabriel, and Baie Aux Baleines) reflect the French-Canadian influence in this maritime area. Our first water crossing is the Hudson Strait, a 140-mile expanse at its narrowest point. Blue water and ice floes hint at bigger challenges to come. We fly VFR in crystal-clear, still air, and the terrain in northern Quebec slowly becomes rocky and then completely treeless. Even in mid-June,

patches of snow thicken to complete coverage at Iqaluit. That night at the Frobisher Inn, sleep is difficult because of the excitement of the over-water portion of the trip still ahead of us, and the fact that it is light 24 hours. Sunshine streams into our hotel rooms despite closed curtains. Another planet On the morning of our departure for Greenland, we pull on immersion suits, place life rafts where they can be reached quickly in case of a water landing, perform especially detailed preflight inspections, and hope for the best. We leave Iqaluit (CYFB) as a flight of three flying VFR and climb to 7,500 feet as we approach the coast. We check in with Arctic Control and give periodic position reports along the way. It’s surprising how clear and strong the ATC transmissions come through on

58 • OCTOBER

2011

AOPA Pilot Magazine - October 2011

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