GORDY REMEMBERED
I
would like to share one of the many good memories of
early flying with L. Gordon Hicks, or Gordy as everyone
in gliding knew him. He was my first instructor and I his
first student in 1952.
One particular flight has stayd in my memory, not because
it was of any great significance but rather of its
pleasant nature.This was in fact a ferry flight from
Trois Rivieres to the Cartierville Airport in Montreal in
the MSC Pratt Read side-by- side twoseater, a war surplus
ex-US Navy trainer, built by a piano company in the 1940s
and painted 'WW II
trainer red'.
It was late summer 1956 and since MSC had no permanent
base at that time, we had been flying initially at Granby
and then at the large WW II field at Cap-de-la-Madeleine
just East of Trois Riviers. Jacques Coderre and his
Sherbrooke club had also joined us there.
Now it was time to pack up our equipment and move back to
Montreal and then perhaps to Pendelton. Since there was
no trailer for the Pratt Read the obvious choice was to
aero tow it back behind the club's Tiger Moth.
I was to be the co-pilot in the right hand seat while
Gordy was the pilot in command in the left hand seat. It
was late, after a full day of passenger flights and there
was some concern of us making it to Montreal in time
before the Tower closed at official sunset at
Cartierville. After a phone call by some of our tow
pilots, we somehow ended up with an actual flight plan at
an assigned altitude of a thousand feet. This did not
make us exactly happy in case of a rope-break. We of
course had no radio and upon arrival were supposed to
look for visual light signals from the Tower.
With a slight head wind it would take over an hour to
cover the 150 or so kilometers, so there was no time to
waste and we lined up the Pratt Read behind the Tiger
Moth and soon staggered into the air, heading toward the
lowering sun.
The view was absolutely magnificent as we followed the
historic North Shore of the Saint Lawrence river. It was
tightly populated with communities all along the way.
There were occasional patches of river fog below, mixing
with smoke from the farm houses, presumably preparing
their Sunday dinners. We even got an occasional whiff of
cooking food, intermixed with burning oil from the tow
plane. Yes, it reminded us of the evening beer and meal
we were missing.
The road traffic below was heavy. There were no super
highways in those days, only the two lane road following
the path as originally laid out by the early settlers.
There was ship traffic on the river but no other air
traffic, at least not at our altitude of about 1200 feet.
We discussed the options available in case of a rope
break and Gordy thought that it might be possible to put
the glider down in someone's back yard or if lucky, in a
hay-field. All the fields were oriented perpendicular to
the river and were very narrow. Gordy explained that with
each generation the farmer divided his land lengthwise so
that his sons each had a piece of land with access to the
river.
We finally reached Montreal and the tow plane climbed
another 500 feet before crossing to the Montreal island
proper. We continued west, passing the oil refineries on
our left. There were large tracts of undeveloped land in
the east-end in those days and we were not worried about
landing in case of rope break. The sun, however was on
the horizon and I expressed concern about reaching the
airport before the official closure. Gordy was not
worried... after all, we are a glider and if we must
land, we will, even if the airport is closed.
As we progressed further west, the built up areas started
to merge with one another and soon there were no
emergency fields to land in. The tow plane made a sudden
turn to the left and we soon realized that we were
approaching the infamous Bordeaux Jail. We were well
aware that there was absolutely no flying over any
penitentiary in Canada. The paradox was that one of our
tow pilots, King Niener, who owned his own Tiger Moth,
which were selling at around $450 as war surplus, had
actually made an emergency landing inside
this
very prison during a snow storm. Far from being arrested,
the warden gave him the VIP treatment and when the
weather cleared in about an half hour he ordered
prisoners to asstst, hold the wing tips and lettting go
at full power for a marginal but successful take off.
Perhaps a first in Canada?
Soon Cartierville Airport loomed into view. No runway
lights here but the tower was still occupied. The traffic
was right-hand and as the tow plane wiggled its wings
above the runway, we also got the 'green light' from the
tower. I pulled the release and Gordy made an immediate
right turn and proceeded downwind rather close to the
runway, at least compared to the normal power traffic. We
did not go far before turning base and then final. This
placed us north of the normal landing and definitely not
lined up with the paived runway.
Gordy said he wanted to land on the grass, next to the
CANADAIR FLYING CLUB tie-down area where we were going to
park the Pratt Read. If I remember correctly, he said
that he will put on a little demonstration to the tower
what a glider can do. Now one thing the Pratt Read had
were extremely effective air brakes. The only problem was
that the air brake lever, similar to a parking brake
handle between the two front seats in a car, was
difficult to use in the left seat. It required you to
fly, during landing, with the left hand and operate the
brake with the right. Gordy, being left handed felt very
much at home with this arrangement.
So we arrived over the Astor Swimming Pool, sarcastically
also known in those days as the Polio Pool, being usually
over crowded with people and a rumored source of the
feared disease. The pool in fact intruded into the
airport property and our intended tie-down was behind the
pool fence. In addition, the pool was surrounded by
bleacher type of spectator seating making it a very
visible high obstacle.
We were still at 250 feet when Gordy fully opened the air
bakes, simultaneosly pointing the glider almost staight
down. You could literarlly rest your feet on the
instrument panel. He levelled off at the last minute and
we only rolled a short distance after the touch-down,
arriving almost exactly at our intended tie-down area.
This, of course was a highly unusual approach and not in
accordance with the then MOT prescribed procedures.
Sure enough, when I looked at the tower, everyone was
standing up looking at us. Next, we got the 'white
light', meaning taxi to the tower, usually for a chewing
out. I pointed this out to Gordy and after discussing the
options, he said "we'll do nothing....a glider does not
taxi, let them walk the 3000 odd feet to us." We
proceeded with the tie-down.
Well, the tower signalled for the tow plane to taxi over
and then expressed their displeasure. By now it was past
quitting time for them and they left, first telling the
tow pilot that the airport was now closed and he was no
longer allowed to fly nor taxi, at least that's what he
told us after taxiing over to join us for a good laugh!
With fond memories,
Hillar Kurlents