ATW with the Six Pack

Leg 13(2-4): MKJS-MTCA

Pilot: Bryan K.

December 6th-7th, 2004

I had heard before of stories involving pilots that earned a little extra income by putting their skills, and airplanes, up for sale. Problem was, I had not gone out looking for them, they had come looking for me! If I ever wanted to get my life back without feeling that someone was always “watching” me, I would need to sort this all out soon.

While in Montego Bay, I hooked up with fellow Six Packer John. He’s been here for several weeks now, just enjoying himself.

- “I love it so much here man, I might never leave man”, he told me one night while we were out drinking… again. (Is it just me, or is John saying “man” a lot since he’s been in Jamaica)

- “Damn, this is just your first exotic stop. Do you realize how many other nice places we are heading for? I think you need to sober up and start thinking about leaving! I know I am. If all goes well, I am off for Haiti on the 7th.”

- “Enjoy yourself man. I will probably wait for the other guys to arrive. They’ll need a tour guide!”

And on that, he just left for another bar, while I contemplated the skies and wondered what would be coming up next for me.

***

Flying to Haiti was not a simple formality. Before leaving Canada last month, I had several calls with the Department of Foreign Affairs. Canadian citizens are not advised to travel to Haiti at the moment, with the social and political situation being at best “unstable”. Diplomats were not that thrilled about me playing “tourist” in one of the worst place on Earth at the actual moment.

After pulling a lot of strings, I managed to get an approval in exchange for some free work for the Canadian International Development Agency (CIDA) once I would get there. I have a good friend at CIDA, and he’s the one who was able to pull it off.

So on this fine Jamaican morning of December 6th 2004, as agreed, I gave him a call to check-in.

- “David! How’s the weather in the Great White North?”

- “Guess?”

- “He he he!! Anyways, I am in Montego Bay and planning to fly to Les Cayes tomorrow morning. You have anything for me?”

“Actually, nothing official. National Defence is still there with Operation HALO, and the United Nations are doing their best, but it’s still chaos over there. “

- “You said nothing official?”, I asked, wondering what he had in mind.

- “Yeah, I might have a favour to ask you. We’ve been in touch with a priest called Père Yves. He’s a missionary who’s been working in a small community called Nouvel Espoir, for the last 12 years. He leads a project there with some volunteers from the NGO Développement et Paix. After Hurricane Juan last summer, that community was completely washed out. He became really sick, and had to be flown out by a UN chopper.”

- “And I bet he now wants to go back….?”

- “It’s not that simple. Père Yves recovered well, and quick. But his small community is in serious trouble. The only road that leads there has not been fixed yet, and the landing strip that’s only a few kilometres away was also damaged. Since August, the UN tried a few time to fly some assistance in, but their helicopters were shot at, and they were forced to turn around since they don’t have any ground troops close enough to support.”

- “So you want ME to go there?”

- “Père Yves has called me directly a few times. Some very weird and frightening rumours are circulating in Port-au-Prince about what’s going on in the village. He believes he’s the only one that can save this place.”

- “Why can’t anyone else fly him there? We have some Griffon helicopters on site, plus the UN personnel.”

- “It’s a question of priorities I guess. And a single priest trying to fly back to a village does not seem to be the first priority now. I told him I knew someone who might help, but made no promises. It’s your call Bryan.”

And on that, we agreed to contact each other later in the day.

I decided to go for a walk on the beach, and reflect on this. After my thrills in Cuba, I figured I needed all the help from God I could afford. But I also knew damn well that I could not risk my plane in a potential dangerous landing on a short muddy field in Haiti.

- “David? It’s Bryan. I’ll do it, but I will need your help.” With that, I explained that I would need a plane to fly to Nouvel Espoir, my Conquest not being suitable for such a task.

- “I will see what I can do. But like I told you, this is not a legit humanitarian flight, so you can forget about official help. But CIDA has some people on the ground in Les Cayes, so I’ll see what can be done. I’ll also get in touch with Père Yves so you guys can meet in Montego Bay.

- “All right Dave. Just find me a good plane!”

He called back two hours later, telling me Père Yves would be waiting for me at Tony’s Pizza, not far from the Airport Inn where I was staying.

At the agreed time, I showed up and started waiting for the priest.

He arrived 30 minutes later. The man was well in his 60’s, and wearing a simple white cotton shirt with shorts and sandals. His face was one of a man who had spent too much time in the sun and the wind. His hands bared the marks of hard work, but he still had the spring in his steps of a man on a mission.

- “Bonjour mon brave”, he said while firmly shaking my hands and never breaking direct eye contact.

- “It’s an honour. I hope I will be of assistance.”

- “You can’t imagine how much your help is urgent. Things are not well in MY village. MY people need me. When can we leave?”

- “Tomorrow morning. We will land in Les Cayes and hopefully won’t have to wait too long to find a plane to fly you in. I have friends working on that.”

- “People are sick and dying. I have to go back and bring supplies. No one wants to help me. I have been waiting here for almost two months! No one understands!!!”

I could see the sense of despair in his eyes, and decided on the spot I would do all that I could to get him back there, whatever the cost.

That night, I decided to leave the drinking to John, and started working on my flight plan for the next day.

At 23:00, I received a call from David.

- “We have a problem Bryan. I can’t find you a plane. There’s none available in Les Cayes, or elsewhere. No one even what’s to hear about leasing you a plane to fly to Nouvel Espoir.”

- “Trust me, I’ll get there!”

***

I woke up early, only to find Père Yves waiting for me at the small café located in my hotel.

- “Bon matin mon brave. Le ciel nous attend!”, he said with a partially straight face that did not hide well his excitement.

- “Bon matin Père Yves. Yes, the skies are waiting for us!”

After several cups of good Jamaican coffee and some fresh fruits, we left for MKJS. Since arriving last week, I had only visited my Conquest once, but I now felt the usual rush I get before taking-off. This would be another of those days.

Montego Bay being a Livewire hub, I had some of our mechanics look over my plane. The terminal not being huge, our airline currently leases some space from Air Jamaica. So that’s where I found my trusted plane this morning. I had it filled with fuel almost to the top, since there was no fuel available in Les Cayes. Last thing I wanted was to run out of gas over Haiti!

I offered Père Yves to sit in the front, be he preferred to take a passenger seat “to have a nicer view at Haiti”.

Once pre-start checks done and the plane pulled-out of the hangar, I received my IFR clearance, with an initial instruction to climb to 13 000’. I fired up the engine and requested taxi instructions to the active. MKJS operating on “Jamaican time”, traffic was light at 8:40 and I made it to runway 7 in just a few minutes.

I could see Père Yves was getting nervous in the back. I wondered if it was because he feared flying or the fact that finally, after several months of waiting, he was on his way back home.

I shouted to him we were about to take-off, and the smile he flashed back at me answered the question!

With the autopilot ready for a smooth climb to 13 000’, I increased the throttles to full, and announced our take-off. Once the gear retracted and the flaps pulled up, I turned east and engaged the A/P.

We were then cleared for FL200, and I then proceeded to setup the Conquest to its cruising configuration.

We reached 20 000’ in just a few minutes. I was facing a pretty strong headwind, and that got my attention. That would certainly change my fuel consumption, and since there was none available in Les Cayes, I shaved off a bit on the throttles.

With very few ATC chatter to monitor, and with Père Yves’ head always looking outside, I started thinking about what to expect once I landed in Haiti.

The country was still in chaos, and the government and police did not control all the areas. My plan was to stay there for the shortest possible period, but I also have my commitments to CIDA, and of course my commitment to Père Yves to uphold. The first priority would be to secure my plane. That was my only real ticket out of there. For the rest… I could handle it!

As we approached Haiti, we flew over Navassa Island. This small piece of land located between Jamaica and the island of Hispanolia is property of the USA.

At 70 nm from MTCA, I received my first instructions for approach. Control had us descent to 7100’, while vectoring us for a visual landing to runway 8 at Les Cayes. Descending, we crossed some heavy turbulence at 10 000’, but it didn’t seem to bother my passenger at all. The approach would be tricky, since we had to avoid the Massif de la Hotte mountains

Descending to 4000’, I spotted the short grass runway and started looking for traffic.

In short final… and ready to land!

We landed in Les Cayes at 9:49. Père Yves was anxious to get off and start working on finding us a plane! I parked near the small building that served as a terminal.

- “We cannot wait! MY people cannot wait! Come… Come!”, urged Père Yves.

- “But we cannot walk there either!”, I answered back.

- “I know mon brave! But please understand me as well. I must go back soon. There might not even BE a village for me to go back to. I must go see!” And with that, he turned his back and started walking towards the small “terminal”.

As I was securing my Conquest, I could sense that MANY eyes were looking both at me and at my airplane. I had the very uncomfortable feeling that this was indeed not the most secure of places.

I decided that I would let Père Yves look for a plane for awhile, while I would concentrate on finding out what exactly the conditions at Nouvel Espoir would be like. David had left me the number of a CIDA worker that might help me on that. His name was Andrew Gilpin, and he had spent the last 5 years in Haiti.

- “Bryan! Glad to hear you at least reached Les Cayes in one piece! Sorry I could not find you a plane. I sure did do my best.”

- “Well, I now have some higher instances looking into this at the moment!”, I replied.

- “So you still plan to try to get there? You’re insane!”

- “Go tell that to Père Yves!”

- “He’s a crazy old man. For all we know, the people up there, the ones that are left, might shoot him the minute he steps out of the plane!”

- “What exactly does it look like there?”

- “Basically, there’s no airfield. There’s a small dirt strip about two kilometres from the village where helicopters and a few bush planes land to supply the locals, a few times a year.”

- “What kind of dirt strip?”

- “Nothing official. Heck, don’t expect anything there. The last UN visual report we received was that there was a maximum of 1500’ to work with, including some holes big enough to scrap your landing gear! And by now, this strip might be full of debris or whatever else!”

- “Great… nothing like a little thrill!”, I replied, trying to sound relax.

- “Of course, if you also include the fact that the locals will probably be shooting at you!”

- “Thanks Andrew. I’ll call you when I come back!”

- “Not so fast. David also told me to take care of you. Apparently, you saved his butt once in Northern Quebec, and he told me he would kick my a** to hell if I leave you on your own.”

Remembering that rainy September day of almost a decade ago, I agreed to get in touch with Andrew when I would be ready to leave. On that, I started to look for Père Yves.

He was no where to be seen. So I sat at a small table in the terminal, and found a cold Coke. Even at this time in the morning, the heat and humidity were already suffocating.

A few hours later, still trying to find myself a ride into town, I heard someone shouting outside.

- “Venez mon brave! Venez!”, Père Yves was yelling out from a distance, while running towards the terminal.

- “I have an airplane! I could leave now!”

- “What do you mean?”

Père Yves explained that he called a friend of his, another missionary that worked in the region of Jérémie. His group had a very good relationship with a local who owned a Maule based at the local airport (MTJE). He often flew from there to Les Cayes.

- “But there is more good news, he will fly me there himself… and for only 6000 US$”, he added.

- “WHAT…. That’s insane!”, I replied.

- “He told me to go find another plane if I was not happy. And he does not want you to touch it.”

- “So you paid him?”, I asked, curious.

- “Well no, my government will!”, explained Père Yves, not knowing I was doing this on my own, without support. I just could not bear the thought of telling him.

I simply told him, “don’t worry”, while thinking about the 10 000 US$ bundle that was hidden in my duffle bag, my first “pay check” from Air America.

Turns out our “friend” (called Léo) had flown to Les Cayes two days before, looking for supplies. We found him near a hangar, fueling his Maule. He and Père Yves started talking in Creole, while I started inspecting the plane.

The Maule was in good shape. Léo informed me that it was regularly maintained in the Dominican Republic, with decent replacement parts. By the look of the plane and of Léo, I figured he did not only transport supplies with this workhorse!

- “We can leave in an hour”, he announced to Père Yves.

- “Une très bonne nouvelle!”,

I was a bit concerned to let him leave alone with Léo. And I think the priest could see that. He told me not to worry. He knew Léo by reputation, and he was a man that could be trusted.

I stayed with them for the next hour, helping out Léo preparing the plane for what announced to be a rough landing somewhere in the mountains close to the Dominican Republic.

At 14:00, they were ready to leave. I pulled Père Yves aside, and wished him all the best, while handing him 8000 US$. “There you go, that’s for your pilot. We are offering a little more to help you reorganize things over there. Good luck!”

- “You are an honourable man. What you’ve done today will help many people”, he simply told me. (Didn’t I hear that before a few days ago!?)

On that, he climbed aboard. They started taxiing a few moments later, and Père Yves waved me goodbye.

- “Good luck mon brave”, I whispered, while the Maule took off and then faded away in the distance.

To be continued….