Episode 3: of Customs Clearance and Arctic Culinary Adventures

Dear Readers,

Well, as I hope you all know by now, the three of us (Richard Broberg, Mark Ezra and Mr. Maule) made it yesterday to our most northerly destination, Tucktoyaktuk. Our last leg from Inuvik to Tuk was flown at about 1700 feet down to 1200 ft or so to stay below the solid overcast. No problem, of course, as the ground below us was between 0 feet and 54 feet, though there was nowhere to land without getting wet. The surface below us was non-stop airplane sized puddles joined by little bits of land. As soon as we left Inuvik, on a northerly heading (305 degrees, oh and pilots amongst you, magnetic variation up here is 28 degrees or more!) we noticed that trees quit! No trees; we had reached the world’s tree line…..and now I truly understand one of my favorite phrases….” It is like trying to explain a tree to an Eskimo”! By the way, referring to the indigenous aboriginals as “Eskimos” is not polite here, as there are many tribes. The correct term seems to be” Inuit” which is a term used to describe a group of many tribes having similar cultures. However, I digress…………

When I last left you, the three of us had departed our adopted Time Warp home of Cottage Grove, Oregon. The orthopedic transplant on Mr. Maule was working well and we were heading north again. Our first day took us to Renton Airport, one of the many airports in the Seattle area and home to the production facility, so the sign said, of the Boeing 737- Stretch airliner. Richard has two friends who live in Seattle, Bill and Melanie. Great “liberals”, so we all had a wonderful evening and dinner talking about “the Dark Side”…….etc.

Next morning we launched for Canadian customs; Richard had originally planned for us to “pay our respects” to these civil servants at Abbotsford, a small airplane airport southeast of Vancouver International. Well, we file our required paperwork / flight plan to LEAVE the USA and discover that Abbotsford was having an air show. Maules and jet fighters doing demonstrations just are not a good mix so, wishing to keep ourselves out of the way, we decided to meet up with “our” Canadian Customs welcoming committee at Boundary Bay airport, another small airplane airport south of Vancouver International. They had customs facilities and we expected to be able to complete formalities there. Well, we start to approach the Boundary Bay airspace and we call in to talk to the tower. Now, you need to understand that Richard lives and learned to fly in the San Francisco Bay Area, which is generally considered, for airplanes, to be quite a congested airspace with lots going on all the time; tower controllers there being quite busy all the time. Nonetheless, neither Richard nor I had ever heard anything like the chap in the tower at Boundary Bay; the proverbial “one armed paper hanger” was on a prolonged vacation compared to this chap. He was alone in the tower and we have never, ever heard anyone so busy. We learned, later, that there are 5 flight schools based at Boundary Bay and from what we could see and hear, all 5 flight schools succeeded in having all of their aircraft off the ground at the same time! Wow(!) and the chappie in the tower still made time to talk to us newbies and help get us down and into custom’s designated parking space; the dreaded “Yellow Box”. Once safely parked we were told to go inside by one of the fuel truck chaps where we could check in with customs, but he informed us that they were probably not around physically, in spite of having nice offices in the terminal. He was kind enough to show us in and eventually show us the free telephone that we would use to call in to customs on the telephone.... Our guide had been right and no one was at home at Her Majesties’ Customs office (remember we are in Canada) and so Richard phoned the free “800” number and talked to a delightful person disguised as a Customs Officer. Apparently Richard was asked if we had anything on board that we should not have; he assured her that we did not have any contra band. Then she asked to speak to me and wanted to know if my middle names really were Abraham and Moses. I assured her that they really were and that, yes, my mother had gone overboard at my birth in the naming ritual. The nice lady then asked me to hand her back to Richard which I did. She gave Richard a clearance number that we wrote down and she wished us a pleasant visit to Canada. The whole procedure was neither conducted at gun point nor with an unpleasant vocal inflection, suggesting that we were doing something evil……the whole clearance took about 3 minutes. VERY CIVILIZED!! These Canadians may not be perfect, but I think they have a lot going for them…..

Once cleared and fueled (both us and Mr. Maule) we took off headed for points north and eventually spent our first night “up north” in a town called Prince George. Prince George airport has several runways, but the wind was such that for us the LONG runway was best. That runway was 11,000ft. long and it was my leg to fly into Prince George, after one fuel stop had been made earlier. I landed us near the runway threshold……of an 11,000 ft. long runway in a 180 hp Maule……dumb! We almost considered taking off again in order to fly to the transient parking! Craig, I know 11000 ft may not seem like an exceedingly long runway to a 747 driver, but in Mr. Maule it is REALLY long. I must learn to judge where to land when landing a small airplane on a long runway, given the airplanes I fly, I should not always try and land at the 1000 ft mark…try thinking Mark, and your flying might even improve! We eventually made the transient parking, got our stuff unloaded and into the terminal and we were able to call a taxi and head into town to what turned out to be a luxury type Ramada hotel.

OK, you architects amongst my readership (yes, Sean and Stephanie this is you!); this hotel was quite ordinary, plastic, Ramada hotel style in the lobby, but the rooms were an attempt at being different. The rooms were quite large and their main theme color was black…no, no mirrors on the ceiling……..but with a unique bathroom toilet and stall shower. The wall separating the bathroom and the shower from the bedroom was a large piece of clear glass. This gave a magnificent, unobstructed view through the shower stall onto the toilet and black “onyx” sink and counter top behind, from anywhere in the bedroom! One short wall of the shower stall was small rectangular stones arranged or stacked so that the ends stuck out into the shower and the shower itself was a polished stainless steel affair with a wand and flexible hose. Below the hot and cold knobs there was a button which would divert the water from the wall mounted spray to a large, overhead shower head in the middle of the stall’s ceiling. Again, this all had a voyeuristic effect since the wall dividing all this from the bedroom was clear glass. Interesting, these Canadians….. and here I thought they were reserved like the Brits! Now for the interesting deal; upon closing the bathroom door, a sliding hardwood door, an electrical charge was applied to the glass of the wall of the shower stall / bathroom and ….the wall went opaque! It took on a frosted, opaque, sandblasted glass appearance. The change was instantaneous as soon as the bathroom door was shut. Of course, if you left the door open, when not in there, then the main architectural feature of the whole bedroom was an unobstructed view of the toilet! An unusual bedroom and bathroom, to be sure………..and deliciously kinky, depending on your habits!

The following morning we left Prince George heading north and hoping to have a shot at making Inuvik or Tuktoyaktuk that day, late. We planned a fuel stop at a town called Norman Wells, and…but I am ahead of myself.

From Prince George we flew to Fort Nelson, fueled and decide that the weather was not looking good to carry on to Fort Simpson. So, we discovered the town of Fort Nelson and its motels, had Sushi for dinner (!) and went to sleep in a “regular” motel. Fort Nelson is a town about 1 mile long and ½ mile wide and we explored all of it on foot. It seems to be a re-fueling stop on a main highway going somewhere, for trucks and a place to fill up your airplane. I am not sure what else the town did. Our problem was that when we arrived, the weather did not look promising and then the fuel company employee broke the news that the Avgas truck had just broken down. Apparently, a small airline had broken which is required to open a vent in the trucks fuel tank for deliveries…however, he assured us that he had sent someone into town to hunt up the parts. When we arrived back at the airport next morning, miracle of miracles, the fuel truck was working! These chaps up in the north are resourceful….

Mr. Maule was given breakfast and we took off again, headed north. Next fuel stop was Fort Simpson where we filled up without incident, once we were told where to find the fueling hose on the BIG self serve above ground fuel tank. Then, to our surprise they did not want to be paid, they said that they would send the bill to Richard’s address! OK, who are we to argue? Next leg it was my turn to fly; we were estimating a 3 hour leg to Norman Wells. We were correct on the time and we hoped that if we got in we would find fuel and be able to get out and make at least Inuvik…..I want to say by “night fall” but the night up here at this time of year does not fall until past midnight! Anyway, we had an uneventful flight over the most uninhabited terrain I have ever seen; 3 hours at an average of 100 kts ground speed and we saw no one and nothing. No bears, no geese, no deer, nothing! There was one small town about the size of Vaour, but we saw no cars moving in it, and no people, as we passed over. LONELY!!! Three hours after departing Ft. Simpson, Norman Wells came into view; we called Norman Wells radio (that’s what you call into up here XXX Radio) and we made an uneventful landing. In fact, for once, I nailed a very smooth landing. We met a very friendly fuel chap named Larry, fueled the airplane and then looked at the clouds. As mentioned above, day light remaining was not an issue, but the clouds sitting on top of the hills in our intended direction of flight were an issue! So…yup, we explored the local hostelleries with a lift into town from our friendly fuel chap who was going home. There were two hotels in town and we choose the hotel based upon which hotel was more likely, according to Larry our fuel chap, to have a working internet connection. We became residents of the Heritage Inn and, much to our surprise and pleasure it had really fast internet service. The rooms were pricy at $245/night, but we had become accustomed to the price of “stuff” going up exponentially as we got to progressively higher latitudes; must be some kind of gravitational or magnetic effect! We explored the town of Norman Wells and then stopped in the “Legion”, where we were allowed to sign in as guests and have a couple of drinks. Then, feeling refreshed, we sauntered back to the hotel, which appeared to have the only operating restaurant, and had dinner. I had rack of lamb (!!) just because it seemed so out of place. Richard caused the demise of a pig in place of my lamb and had ribs.

The following morning the ceiling had lifted sufficiently that we could feel comfortable departing across the hills, even if at one point I had to strongly suggest to Richard that he drop down under the cloud layer and pass through the “notch” in the hills to our right…and Richard, do it NOW!! All went well, we passed through the notch in the hills and came out over more uninhabited planes and almost blue sky, with a higher ceiling eventually; we followed the McKenzie River north, past Ft. Good Hope and onwards and upwards. Eventually, while following the river, we passed latitude 67 degrees 33 minutes; for the uninitiated amongst you, that is the Arctic Circle! I had hoped to see at least a large day-glow orange dotted line on the ground, but unfortunately there was nothing, not even herds of Caribou or Reindeer! Our next stop was, if memory serves me well (which it may not), Inuvik. Inuvik is interesting for two reasons:

1. It is the last “big” town before the village of Tuktoyaktuk; in fact it is the last town!

2. My friend Craig, you remember, he is the one with a 747. He flew over Inuvik (at 40,000 ft or there abouts) the week before on his way to Tokyo with a bunch of passengers in the back. So, while we fed Mr. Maule lunch, I just had to wander over on the ramp and take a picture of the Terminal building and Tower at Inuvik for him!

Once fueled, it was on to Tuk, a mere 45 min to 1 hr away! Richard was doing the driving as this whole adventure was his brain child and I was insisting that he be the one who landed at all airports above the arctic circle, at least on the way up!

Shortly after leaving Inuvik we hit the tree line; no more trees, not even bushes. Just kind of green scrub or sod! FLAT; nothing above 100ft higher than sea level, and everything on the ground was small, even if it was green. We had a low ceiling, but we were able to continue flying at between 1700 ft. and 1200 ft above sea level with no drama; just kept touching the overcast. Sure enough, just as the GPS promised, a collection of buildings and white gas tanks came into view and eventually a brownish, 5000ft long gravel runway. Voila, Tuktoyaktuc airport! We called Tuk radio and a voice came back in response with Inuit accented English and told us that the wind was 270 at 10 kts. We were welcomed and we announced that we would be landing on runway 28; and we landed; what a trip!! I think that the one-way distance from San Francisco to Tuktoyaktuk is about 2100 miles.

OK, now we get to the culinary part:

Once down in Tuk, we taxied off the runway, asked where to park and trundled over to a spot where Mr. Maule could sleep for a day or two in relative safety. Then we walked back over to the “terminal” building and Richard called our hosts at the bed and breakfast he had found: this is a luxury tour, even if we are doing the driving ourselves!

Our hosts are Phillip and his wife Maureen. Phillip came out and picked us up. He brought us back to the house and introduced us to Maureen and the kids. We settled in and life was great. No flight planning for the next day…sleep in and everything! Maureen then offered us fixings for dinner; a large “trout” that had been caught the previous week in Harris Lake (which we had flown over on our way in, I think) and she also handed us a frozen bag of Caribou which had been killed last week too! OK, as you Yanks will know the term, we were having “Surf and Turf”; to the rest of you who may not have encountered the term, “Surf and Turf” in the USA, it means you are generally having a big piece of steak and a lobster tail for dinner. Well, I guess an Arctic “trout” and Caribou will qualify!

Richard was tasked with cooking the fish; he came up with baking it stuffed with chopped onions, fresh dill from his garden back in California that he had brought and lemon that he had also brought! I was tasked with doing something with the Caribou…thank god I had some experience with cooking game thanks to annual meals made in Vaour with our friend Dominique’s endless supply of venison she receives from groups who hunt on her land. Well, I thought I would get some red wine, some more onions and a little sage and thyme at the store, of which Tuk has two. Simple no? That’s when I discovered that Tuk is dry; no alcohol.i.e. no red wine and no eau de vie! What to do with the Caribou? I winged it…I found some oranges at the store (about $3 each!) and I had butter from our hosts…so, fry the onions in butter along with some spices left to us in the kitchen, some fresh dill, salt, pepper and the oranges for the citric acid and then the orange peel for more tartness. I fried the onions, then browned the meat and then in went the orange juices, the blood from the meat, a dash of water and…voila, after letting it simmer for an hour, I had a Caribou civet!! In fact, it turned out to taste quite good. While at the store we had also purchased a bag of carrots, at about $4 / pound (remember, everything is either trucked in or flown in, carrots included) and a bag of rice.

Dinner was served and we had quite a “surf and turf” feast:

Baked Lake Harris Trout with onions and fresh dill

Civet de Caribou a l’Orange et dill (surprising combination, but good!)

Boiled carrots finished in butter

Rice

Arctic impromptu cooking at its most creative!

-//-

We just got back in from another one of Richards projects; we went dipping ourselves, wading / swimming, in the Arctic Ocean!! Built a bonfire just to make sure we could dry out, and now we are back for the evening and sipping wine Richard had in the airplane and did not declare!

Stay tuned for accounts of the trip back; we are going to try and leave Tuktoyaktuk tomorrow morning if the ceilings allow.

Your scribe,

Mark