ODDS’N’SODS — Early bush pilots operated with a sense of

When I was busily involved in mineral exploration in Ontario in the early 1950s, I met a young bush pilot named Hong Mar. He was flying for Canadian Superior Air Services at the time, following a period of active service for Canada with the air force in Korea.

Hong was totally devoted to his role of piloting a small float plane and faithfully visited and serviced the many isolated fly-camps in the outback area north of Lake Superior.

We struck up a friendship that was to continue for many years. Hong loved to fish for the pickerel and pike that abound in the northern lakes, and we found that the float planes provided an exceptional means of access to the best fishing lakes.

A few years later, we met again at the Cantung mining operation in the Northwest Territories. At the time, Hong was flying out of Fort Smith and serving a vast area using Beaver aircraft.

He made frequent flights into our landing strip and, on one occasion in the winter, landed on wheel-ski equipment amid a cloud of billowing snow. In the turmoil of the powdered flakes, he lost his visibility and ended up taxiing right off the runway into deep snow drifts. Fortunately, no damage was caused by the mishap and we used our tractor to pull his aircraft out of the deep snow and back onto the landing site. Hong took off later in the day, following a hot sauna interval, in good spirits.

We next renewed our acquaintance in the 1960s during the development of the Granduc mine. Hong at this time was flying out of Prince Rupert, Sask., for Pacific Western Airlines (PWA).

Granduc had constructed and operated an “ice strip” on the North Leduc Glacier. PWA flew Otters and C-46s on the freight haul from Stewart, at the head of Portland Canal, to this site. Several Otters and two C-46s were engaged in the transport of diesel fuel, during winter, to storage tanks situated on the glacier.

We had many adventures in this campaign, and a close liaison had to be maintained with incoming aircraft with regard to the condition of the ice surface. Crevices frequently opened in the glacier during the course of the day so that constant maintenance was required, using graders and bulldozers to “manicure” the landing site.

Air traffic continued during the day and often into the night. On one such evening flight, Hong and Pat Caret were flying Otters into the camp; Hong lost his landing lights and was forced to come in on Pat’s tail, using the beams from Pat’s Otter as best he could. He made an excellent landing considering the circumstances. Soon afterwards, he had his lights repaired and was on his way back to Stewart.

One fateful day we received an urgent radio call that an aircraft, with Hong on board, was missing on a flight between Prince Rupert and Stewart. Following an extensive search, the plane was located in the dense timber bordering the Portland Canal, on a promontory protruding into the deep fjord. When the rescuers reached the scene, they found that Hong had managed to crawl some distance from the wreckage of his craft. Ever faithful, he had taken time to leave a brief message for his family on the back of a cigarette package before expiring.

“Great” would be an appropriate word to describe these courageous bush pilots, and Hong was one of them. Countless miners and prospectors can look back and recall the many courtesies demonstrated by this special pilot, with his broad, engaging smile, merry eyes and wondrous sense of humor. — S.J. Hunter, a retired mining engineer and regular contributor, resides in Vancouver, B.C.