Jet Operations in the Canadian High Arctic
The Why?
With hand on heart, I can say there is very little in the High Arctic of Canada.
There are three small Innuit communities – Resolute (pop 183), Arctic Bay (pop 994) and Pond Inlet (pop 1555). There are also a few polar bears, muskox, seals, arctic foxes, wee plants and flowers, and lots of seabirds. The scenery is fairly uniform, with upright ramparts of low table lands and the odd glacier, lots of cloud, wind and snow. There is also a comprehensive history of exploration and settlement that leaves you agog!
But on the whole, as you scan the horizons around you (if you can see them), the vast land is empty and silent, the wind claws at you, wishing to steal your cellphone or camera, and if no polar bears know you are there, you are largely left to your own thoughts.
With that said, the question rises as to why you need jet aircraft visiting the region. It boils down to cargo and sea conditions, growing tourism and the needs of the residents, and sadly, the requirements for sustaining mining operations in that pristine environment.
To give perspective of distance travelled to reach Resolute in the High Arctic from Calgary. The flight time is 5 hours, travelling at 485mph in an AVRO RJ (the company that brought WW11 the mighty Lancaster bomber), with a fuel stop required at Yellowknife each way. Resolute is nearly 75 degrees north. For context, the North Pole is 90 degrees north. Calgary is 51 degrees north. Here, in little old Christchurch, NZ, we are 43 degrees south.
Although all three settlements are on the coasts of their respective islands, the sea around them is frozen for up to 10 or more months a year, thus ruling out regular provisioning by sea, leaving only air services as the means of getting what is needed into these remote locations.
The How?
For our trip to the High Arctic, we joined a group leaving from Calgary to spend a week on a purpose built expedition ship – one that can push through sea ice but not one that is a full ice breaker.
The aircraft that would take us to Resolute Bay was an AVRO RJ.
The AVRO RJ85 is a 90 seat short-to-medium haul, pressurized passenger jet, offering modern, efficient operations on sectors up to 1500 nautical miles. Rugged and versatile, it is capable of operations on both paved and unpaved strips and is equipped with self-contained boarding air stairs and auxiliary power unit to provide independence at remote airfields.
The Avro RJ is powered by four Honeywell LF507-1F high bypass engines of modular design. The engines feature low fuel burns, low noise levels, and low emissions, making it one of the quietest and greenest aircraft in its class.
The RJ design yields unique qualities of handling, manoeuvrability and airfield access. The high wing and four engine configuration is complemented by tail-mounted air brakes, extending the RJ’s potential into airfields previously only accessible to turboprop aircraft.
TECHNICAL DETAIL
Full glass, EFIS flight deck
FADEC controlled engines with auto throttle
EFIS flight deck offers pilots greater situational awareness with autopilot, auto-throttle, and WAAS/LPV for enhanced safety and mission completion
Gravel capable – the only next generation gravel-capable jet aircraft
On this last note, it is the high mounted engines that assist greatly here. The entire engines are a fair way forward of the main gear and a wee strip of metal immediately behind the nose wheel deflects any gravel being kicked up.
The aircraft also has it’s own airstairs - like the old B737-200s that flew in NZ.
Airstairs and gravel kit (if you squint, you can see the wee metal strip just behind the nosegear).
The gravel kit
The Experience
Unabashedly, I admit that the idea of experiencing arctic gravel runway jet operations firsthand was a real drawcard for us to do this trip (spot the aviation geeks). It’s highly probable that every other passenger on the flights were there for the expedition cruise, not so much the aviation side of things.
The ship, waiting to pick us up at Resolute Bay, can only operate in the NorthWest Passage area with a passenger count that matches the available number of seats on the AVROs. So, for this trip, we had two AVROs flying in convoy, 20 minutes apart.
Early in the morning of the 3rd September, John and I staggered out of bed, suffering from jetlag and for me, an allergy to early mornings. We met the rest of our group downstairs and walked over to the terminal at Calgary Domestic to check in. Seat numbers were already allocated but we were pleased to find we had a window seat between us (read, for me). We all carried with us our huge bright yellow polar jackets we had been issued (despite it being 27C outside) and carried waterproof pants to don before getting out of the terminal at Resolute. In other words, everyone had a huge amount of cabin baggage.
When we got to the departure lounge, we couldn’t see the aircraft initially. But then we looked down. There it was! It’s a tiny low down plane and walking down the airbridge to the jet meant walking carefully down a steep descent. Crampons would have been useful.
With the AVRO being a tiny jet with 90 seats, it’s very squashy inside and has only small overhead lockers. So, there was a rather spectacular bun fight as people wrestled with getting their cabin bags, massive jackets and waterproof pants into any space found. The seating was basic - no screens for such a long flight, no modern facilities. Three Cabin crew. All announcements in English and French.
Our window seat turned out to be half a window seat as we were seated right next to the engines slung under the wing. Oh well…
The flight to Yellowknife was ok, food not so much, and whilst we had clear skies, the views over northern Canada were fascinating. Trees and lakes to the end of the world. And barely any human habitation. As we flew directly north, the landscape outside grew less vibrant in colour and more rock began to show. Yellowknife appeared to be a busy airport but with limited vision out our window and commanded to stay in our seats whilst refueling took place, I was unable to see much. After 2.5 hours in the air, we had gone from 27c in Calgary to 8c in Yellowknife.
The flight between Yellowknife and Calgary was a bit tedious being in cloud all the way, and we had been squashed in like sardines for more than enough time by now. We were well on descent before we broke cloud cover and glimpsed the Arctic for the first time. In the bright sun, the land was a bleak dull brown colour interspersed with rocky outcrops. Occasional icebergs and growlers (baby ice bergs) mooched around on the sea but there was no snow on the featureless land.
The landing was what we had waited a few months for and with great anticipation, our eyes were glued to the limited view as the aircraft descended and flared - and then…. Well, nothing out of the ordinary really. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it just seemed like a normal landing anywhere, except for the lack of black tarseal and runway signs.
As the aircraft taxied in, we were surprised to see the runway surface. It was more of a really fine grit, hard packed into mud and frozen. This was in direct contrast to a gravel runway we had visited in northern Alaska. It was no longer used, but the runway was constructed of REAL gravel – pretty big chunks of local rock. The airstrip had been serviced by B727s, their three engines mounted high on the tail, far away from the gravel. I guess you build with what you’ve got…
Everyone filed off the plane with great enthusiasm – hope for the trip to come and relief from the cramped confines we’d spend the previous 5 hours in. We walked across frozen mud to the terminal – very much a small tin shack. Crammed inside the shed were two ship loads of passengers and their baggage – the two plane loads that had just arrived and the two plane loads about to depart. For context, imagine nearly 400 hundred people and suitcases in your house. Most wore their yellow polar jackets and all I could think of were bananas in a box!
The Greater Yellow Penguins of the Arctic (otherwise known as Highly Visible Polar Bear Fodder) poking around the rocks. Their seabound nest is visible in the background
A week later we returned to the same spot. The weather conditions could not have been more different. A week earlier, we had arrived in sunny freezing conditions but now, it was about 4C and fog was coming and going. Big winds still raked the sea as the remains of an Arctic Storm lingered in the area.
We had been scheduled to leave the ship at 10am but the Charter Airline was not sure of conditions at Resolute Bay. The aircraft were still on the ground in Calgary – five hours away. I imagine there were tense negotiations with the tour operator, ship management and Summit Air.
The ship was expected to steam towards Illulisat, in Greenland, later that day, without passengers, to prepare for her transfer to Antarctic waters for the southern summer. She was unable to depart until it was clear we had got away. There were more people on the ship than there were beds in the town. But time was short, and we had already experienced a wild Arctic storm. Sea conditions were changing rapidly, and the ship couldn’t risk getting trapped in the Northwest Passage.
On the other hand, the airline had zero interest in flying two empty aircraft all the way to Resolute with no guarantee they could land. But, the weather was getting worse, not better over the next few days. It was a flight today or a trip home the long way round!
We all sat around in the lounges of the ship getting updates from time to time and eventually, after two and half hours of negotiations and very careful study of weather maps, Summit Air agreed to fly the AVROs to Yellowknife and reassess from there. That was enough for the ship to disembark all of us via zodiac across the choppy, wind streaked waters to Resolute and we took shelter in the local hall/’hotel’ and had a wonderful lunch of fresh food – something that was unexpectedly not available on the ship.
Resolute Instrument Approach Chart
Remember the tin shack at the airport? Well think of that again but this time add tables and no where near enough chairs to go with them, a stuffed polar bear and a stuffed muskox. This time there wasn’t the merry air of anticipation, it was a half panicked air of uncertainty and desperation to get back to civilisation. Everything was muddy, our cabin baggage, our shoes, our clothes and quite honestly, our mood.
Human dynamics are just so interesting to watch and observe when the species is put under stressful conditions…. John and I just hunkered down and watched as everyone else seemed to go a little crazy around us.
The ship still waited in the Bay, but you could feel her anxiety to also get going – she had a long way to steam before being guaranteed ice free passage. If the planes didn’t land, we would have to go aboard again and go with them to Illulisat or Pond inlet.
There was a frission of excitement when we were advised the planes had left Yellowknife but with no guarantee of landing at Resolute. Many cellphone screens had Flightradar up, including us, (thanks to the free wifi in the building) and the progress of the two little planes flying into the lonely Arctic was closely monitored.
About 30 minutes after the planes departed Yellowknife, the task of shuttling us all to the airport began. An old American school bus from the 1980’s grunted its way across the mud and puddles along the gritty road towards the airport. Back and forth it travelled taking us on a 15 minute ride to the airport.
The weather conditions as we waited for departure
We checked in and found we were in the same row as we came up in, but this time, aisle seats. At least the terminal only had half the number of people buzzing around inside it. John and I resumed watching the progress of the flights. After 50 years as a pilot, John looked at the conditions outside -fog to the ground and the runway barely visible – and wasn’t overly sure we were going to get away.
The first plane descended (we were on the second plane), but the second plane held at altitude as it awaited a report from the first. The crackle of concentrated hope and anticipation in the terminal was palpable.
Suddenly, a cheer went up! The first plane landed with thick vortices swirling off her wingtips as she emerged from the fog, braking hard. So now, half the passengers (those on her flight) were jubilant and the other half (including ourselves) were quietly jealous on the inside. We were relieved to see the second aircraft begin to descend. But we also saw that the fog was thickening and then, we lost sight of the runway altogether.
However, a small Arctic fox wandered across the apron in front of us, so that was cool….
Resolute has ILS and RNAV with LPV option but minimums are minimums, right?
But, against all odds, a few minutes later, we saw our aircraft emerge from the darkening gloom, taxiing into the apron area. No one saw her land. What the…? How…? Our jaws dropped momentarily but then a joyous roar went up (probably on the ship too). Mindful of the fatal B737 crash at Resolute a few years back in similar conditions, we were genuinely surprised to see our aircraft in front of us. But we were relieved, nonetheless.
We were going to go home today.
Because we were unable to film the AVRO landing at Resolute, check out this You Tube video of an Avro landing at Resolute
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RvHn4_c_08c&list=UUzMoBGxP5hfSZaf0Le-SkjA&index=3
and this video of the Avro taking off from Resolute
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I1dtAlTqd-k&list=UUzMoBGxP5hfSZaf0Le-SkjA&index=2
Stories from flying in the Canadian High Arctic
