When I was responsible for National Historic Sites for all of western Canada I was required to do a lot of traveling among those very scattered locations. Flying was the only practical way to get from Calgary to the most of them. Those big jets and commercial flights carried a lot of passengers and one could meet all kinds of interesting people. Once in the seat next to me was a close relative of Canadian painter A. Y. Jackson and from her I got a good lesson on “The Group Of Seven”. Another time my fellow passenger was a rodeo cowboy who had been hospitalized forty times from bull riding accidents. And so it went! But for me, the flights in the smaller crafts were the most interesting.

Flying small aircraft to small and sometimes remote locations was a much more relaxed affair than the big airports. On the air bus out of Calgary you walked out onto the tarmac, paid your fair and got on the plane. At the local airports you often carried your own bags on board and flight crews waited in the same place you did. One time while waiting for a flight up in Dawson City in the Yukon I remember overhearing the pilot call to someone “ You better go get those horses off the runway, Joe. It’s about time to leave”.  I suppose the smaller craft were the most memorable because of the scenery we flew over, the variety of the craft and the interaction with the pilots who were always interesting characters and often very friendly.

Once I flew in an amphibian Goose from the B.C. mainland across the strait to Masset on the Queen Charlotte Islands. For the first time I flew in an amphibian aircraft and experienced climbing aboard on land, taxiing from dry land out onto the water and then taking off on pontoons. Arriving at Masset I rented a cute little car, a Toyota, one of the first of its kind I had seen. It served me well while I was there on the island. A few days later, I returned to the airport for the trip home. After checking in and dropping of my luggage, I wandered back outside to enjoy the warm sunny day. I stood leaning on that little car in the parking lot looking past the Goose to the water of the strait. A fellow came along, obviously also waiting for the same flight. He asked what I thought of that car and we then got into further conversation. He finally asked what had brought me to the island and after telling him I thought it polite to ask him of his work. “Oh, I drive that thing over there.” he said, pointing to the Goose. By that time we had become friendly enough that he invited me to ride “up-front” in the co-pilot seat. It was  very clear and sunny,  so flying at low altitude, I experienced a most beautiful trip over water, islands, whales and birds.

Masset B.C. from the air. Taken in the spring of 1975.