CANADA'S BUSH PILOTS

On New Year’s Eve 1928, word was received at Edmonton that a diphtheria epidemic had broken out at Fort Vermillion 600 miles to the north. Sending the antitoxin by rail to Fort McMurray and from there by dog sled would, tragically, be too late. It was then decided to ask Wilfred (“Wop”) May, a barnstorming pilot who had just spent the summer as instructor of the local flying club, if he would fly the much-needed medicine to Fort Vermillion.

May agreed and took off in sub-zero weather on New Year’s Day with Vic Horner, a club member who owned the only plane available — an open cockpit Avro Avian two-seater with no skis! A blizzard forced them to land en route. They arrived next day frostbitten and bleeding from wind cuts. In fact, they were so cold they had to be helped out of the plane.

Junkers much like this one photographed at Sept-Īsles, Quebec, 1931, were durable workhorses for Canada's intrepid bush pilots [C.J. Humber Collection]

That mercy flight, and two more by May that winter, added lustre to the exploits made by Canada’s early bush pilots whose skill and daring in flying over vast, unmapped areas of Canada’s north made them legends in their own lifetime.

When Clennell Dickins, for example, landed his aircraft with bags of mail at Aklavik, Northwest Territories, on July 1, 1929, one old Eskimo found it unbelievable “because the wings didn’t flap.” To Dickins, known to everyone as “Punch,” it was just another experience that had already included winter-testing Siskin fighter planes for the RCAF, flying furs from a trading post 1,600 miles north of Edmonton to an auction in Winnipeg, and completing an aerial survey of the Dubawnt River system in 37 hours of flying time over 12 days — much of it along the same route that had taken Joseph Tyrrell seven months to complete by canoe in 1893.

This Fokker Super Universal, representing the new trend in arctic transportation, quickly replaced husky dog teams which, for centuries, were the only mode for winter travel in Canada's northern regions [Photo, courtesy, Ken Molson]

Harold (“Doc”) Oaks, like May and Dickins, learned to fly while serving overseas in World War I with the Royal Flying Corps. On his return he studied mining engineering and flew for Ontario’s Provincial Air Service, leaving it to stake claims at Red Lake where gold had just been discovered in 1925. He exchanged these claims for a minority interest in Patricia Airways where he served both as manager and pilot of its lone two-passenger, open cockpit Lark. Before the end of 1926, he had flown 260 passengers and 70 tons of freight from Sioux Lookout to Red and Woman Lakes in Ontario and had won the backing of James A. Richardson of Winnipeg to form Western Canada Airways. That winter he flew men and tons of equipment not only to Fort Churchill, where the government was undertaking feasibility studies to determine its suitability as a railroad terminus, but also to Cold Lake, Manitoba, for Sherritt-Gordon Mines.

Much of the early demand was to fly prospectors and trappers to mine and hunting sites. When Dickins was flying Gilbert Labine from Great Bear Lake in the Northwest Territories, Labine spotted the pitchblende deposits over Great Slave Lake that led to his discovery of radium and uranium in 1930.

1. S.A. Cheesman, left, was a well-known Arctic bush pilot. He was invaluable as a plane mechanic, especially to H.A. ("Doc") Oaks, right, one of Canada's most famous bush pilots who won the Distinguished Flying Cross as a World War I fighter pilot. He convinced James Richardson to finance Western Canada Airways, Canada's first major airline service. Later he formed his own air service company to search for and discover mineral deposits in Canada's unmapped northern territories. [Photo, courtesy, Ken Molson]
2. The legendary ("Punch") Dickens was the first pilot to fly the full length of the Mackenzie River (2,000 miles in two days!). As well, he was the first to fly prospectors to Great Bear Lake in the Northwest Territories where uranium was discovered in the 1930s. Before retiring from professional flying, this "snoweagle" had flown more than 1,000,000 miles across unchartered landscape in weather unforgiving of human error [Photo, courtesy, Ken Molson]

In January 1929, when Doc Oaks and T.M. (“Pat”) Reid were making the first winter flight to Richmond Gulf on the east side of Hudson Bay to pick up 13 prospectors, a treacherous storm forced them to land. Because of the fierce winds it was necessary for Reid and his mechanic to freeze the skis to the surface ice in order to prevent the plane from blowing away. Oaks, sheltered along the shore, used a blow torch to cook emergency rations for himself, the mechanic, and an Anglican missionary couple on their honeymoon. Next day he walked miles in search of help which came about midnight as the result of their plight being reported at Rupert House by an Indian trapper. A few days later they picked up the prospectors as planned.

1. During World War I, W.R. ("Wop") May was an ace air pilot. At war's end, his daring exploits as a Canadian bush pilot united people through air transport. He became world famous for delivering serum in sub-zero temperatures to scattered arctic outposts experiencing a widespread diphtheria epidemic. [Photo, courtesy, Ken Molson]

2. Grand McConachie was only 22 years old when he bought his first plane. Viewed here in his Fokker Universal, he would inaugurate regular airmail service to the Yukon and pioneer passenger service between Edmonton and Whitehorse. After Canadian Pacific Airways bought out his firm in 1941, he would, by 1947, be its president. He linked continents and bridged forbidden barriers, making him an outstanding Canadian pathfinder. [Photo, courtesy, Canadian Airlines International Ltd.]

That same month Dickins attempted his first mail delivery to Aklavik, but the attempt ended when he wrecked the undercarriage and damaged the propeller while landing on rough ice at Fort Resolution. Before flying back to their base, he and his mechanic rebuilt the undercarriage using pieces of pipe and repaired the propeller by cutting back the blade tips and straightening the entire propeller.

While in charge of two aircraft flying a mining company president and seven others from Baker Lake to Bathurst Inlet in September 1929, pilot Tommy Thompson caused the decade’s biggest air search. When his plane failed to arrive within 10 days, a search party involving Dickins and 14 other pilots flew almost 30,000 miles before word was received in early November that a storm had forced Thompson’s party to land. With insufficient fuel to continue, the entire party had been forced to wait until the winter freeze-up made it possible to walk some 50 miles across Dease Straight to the Cambridge Bay trading post.

When planes were not flying during severe winter months, tarpaulins were used to protect engines from severe weather conditions. In this view, a Fokker Universal is being refuelled while the portable nose hanger covers the engine. The gasoline blowpot used to heat engines would not be in use during refuelling. [Photo, courtesy, Ken Molson]

About the same time George W. (“Grant”) McConachie was doing odd jobs for pilots like Dickins and May at the Edmonton airport in return for a chance to fly with them. He also worked for the CNR to pay for flying lessons at which he was considered “a natural.” After an aerobatics course in the United States, he went into business with his own plane when in 1931 an uncle arranged financial backing for him. He was 22 years old.

The depression made McConachie take every job he could get, including flying fresh fish out of northern Alberta and Saskatchewan. His first mercy flight mission to pick up two badly burned men at Pelican Rapids required him to land on a stretch of beach only 13 feet wider than the plane’s wingspan. Shortly thereafter a crash that hospitalized him for two months forced him to close his first company.

This Bellanca Pacemaker is being salvaged after going through ice. It could cruise at 110 mph with either floats or skis. It had an 850-mile range. In the 1930s, bush pilots like "Wop" May flew such planes, bringing the Royal Mail to isolated settlers in sub-zero conditions, while jeapardizing their own safety to bring others comfort. [Photo, courtesy, Ken Molson]

By 1933 McConachie was barnstorming the circus routes offering joyrides to locals and tourists alike. He charged one cent for every pound they weighed! By that August he had become a partner in a new firm called United Air Transport. The company transported tons of fresh fish, flew men and materials to mine sites, and expanded into mail and charter flights so successfully that, by 1935, McConachie flew east to buy a Ford Tri-motor monoplane — the first multi-engined aircraft in western Canada.

To veteran bush pilots, McConachie and others like him were “airborne garbagemen.” But air travel everywhere was changing: companies and planes were getting larger; runways were being extended; wireless systems kept track of planes and weather conditions; and some of the early pioneers were taking desk jobs.

Dickins became a general superintendent for CPR airline division, was named director of operations for the Atlantic Bomber Ferry Service and then a vice-president of CP AirLines before joining DeHavilland Aircraft to market the world-famous and versatile Beaver and Otter aircraft, both made extremely desirable because of short-takeoff-and-landing (STOL) capacities. Oaks worked for aircraft companies during World War II, eventually becoming a mining consultant in Toronto. May, during World War II, headed the Air Observation Schools out west and was repair depot manager for CP Air at Calgary when he died of a heart attack in 1952. Grant McConachie, who became president of CP Air in 1947, was instrumental in the company’s becoming a major international airline with worldwide connections before a heart attack ended his life in 1965.

Many of the early pioneering bush pilots have come and gone. Although their saga is inspirational, even romantic, they each served a major purpose in that, as pathfinders, they exploded the myth that Canada’s hinterland was inaccessible.