Rockcliffe Air
Force Invades Washington
by Alison Hobbs
aftermath
On the evening of Victoria Day 2001, five Rockcliffe
aircraft were still parked in Maryland. C-FWFG was home, as was C-GVAX...
but only because they could be flown on instruments. Does this scenario
remind anyone of Victoria Day 2000, when we left most of the fleet in
Maine? Once again, bad luck with the weather was to blame. However, nobody
made an unsafe decision and I don't think anybody regretted taking part.
departure
On Saturday May 19th, a fox and some groundhogs
watched us depart through a hole in the clouds. We had been up since 6
and, because of the weather prognosis, it had taken a couple of hours,
during which you can get through more coffee than is advisable, to determine
whether we really were departing for Washington.
Chris rang for
a final briefing, and the decision was made.
" Right! Let's go! Ready all? We're on our way. Look, there goes
Al, taking off ahead
of us! Shucks, he beat us to it!"
"We'd like
to open our Flight Plan at this time, please ...Direct Watertown."
first stop: where is everyone?
C-FMED and C-GVAX reached Watertown International
with the others close behind, so we supposed....
 |
but
customs at Watertown says to Don,
'You know
we require two hours notice?' so Don says,
'Nonsense! In that case, we'll go somewhere else.' He meant just the
Buchan clan, only they thought he meant all of us. |
"We're illegal!
They'll seize my 'plane!"
"Where is Don?"
"Gone to
Massena. We're meeting them for lunch at Williamsburg." "According
to my calculations, Williamsburg is three hours away. That can't be right."
"Hang on, maybe it was Williamsport. I've got it written down somewhere.
Yes, Williamsport it is. Is that in New York or Pennsylvania?"
"We don't want any confusion as to where we're going."
second
stop
Airborne again VFR, though we had to
watch for clouds with our "band
of weather" from the Ottawa area likewise moving south. Stripy fields
and cloud shadows appeared below in extraordinary patterns around the
Finger Lakes.
 |
Wheeler Sack Approach: "Are you following the other Canadian
aircraft? What's going on? Why the mass evacuation?" |
"It's Queen
Victoria's Birthday, that's why."
"He probably thinks we're pulling his leg." Beyond Syracuse,
we were handed off to Elmira Approach over Ithaca, the soil turning redder,
the hills bumpier and very green. Williamsport lies in a gorge on the
western branch of the Susquehanna River. 
Having landed parallel to a steep hill
that limits one's approach options, we dined at Dine Skyview to view the
stragglers touch down: GNEJ, FAJG and GXBU. Disappointingly, the three
people in FPTN who'd have made our numbers up to twenty wouldn't be leaving
Rockcliffe, it seemed, because of a faulty heading indicator. Adèle,
who'd brought some sewing to do while waiting for take-off, must have
finished the whole garment.
invasion!
 |
Towards
Baltimore, the long green hills became more ribbed and the banks of
the Susquehanna more populated and industrial. "Baltimore Approach
says we're to stand by for VFR Flight Following. They sound busy."
Each pilot came on through the increasing haze at the pace that suited
him best but three aircraft arrived simultaneously in the circuit.
|
College
Park Unicom: "Canadian Airforce, landing! If you'll all gather round
the pumps, we'll sort you out when you get there." The Wright brothers
made use of this airport, claiming to be the
oldest
in continuous operation in the world. It is certainly one of the friendliest.
The pump attendant, a student at Maryland University
round the corner, helped transport some of us with our baggage to the
nearby Comfort Inn where chaos reigned, but, thanks to Francine Lams,
we were expected. We set off on a Mystery Ride in the hotel's shuttle
bus to Greenbelt for supper at "Jasper's," great for people-watching.
It was packed, mostly with black students celebrating their graduation
in glamorous clothes, the waiters swirling around with loaded trays.
I for one refused point to be up and ready for
a tour of Washington at 7am next day so everyone arranged to meet outside
the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum at closing time. A Green Line metro
took six of us to L'Enfant Plaza at a sensible hour. The others had left
earlier, to take bus tours, visit the Arlington cemetery, and so on.
Most people spent most of Sunday in the great
Museums. Jitka, from the Czech Republic, whose father is a sculptor, wanted
to see the modern art in the East block of the National Gallery. She left
her son Stepan to explore the Air and Space Museum with Chris, while she
and I crossed to the other side of The Mall. At lunchtime, Francine and
Roger, Chris and I walked through the azaleas and roses on Capitol Hill
towards Union Station. At the other end of the Mall, the 555ft Washington
Monument loomed through the mist. Our pilots kept looking that way to
estimate the cloud ceiling as the temperature dropped and more rain fell.
Union Station is all marble floors, wrought iron
staircases, 50ft arches and gold stencilled, domed ceilings, the trains
hidden away at the back. Sandwiches here being just as pricey as the ones
in the Art Gallery, we descended to the 46 fast food outlets on the lower
level to find the Lams and the Buchans, Robert at Le Petit Bistro, which
turned out to be more Korean than French. We metroed back to the National
Art Gallery.
Alison and Chris are lost
Chris
spent most of the time sitting awe-struck in the Rembrandts while I lost
all sense of direction in the maze of other galleries. Then we stuck together
and found the Goya painting I was looking for, as well as some lilies
and Rouen Cathedrals by Monet. It is hopeless, you need months to absorb
exhibits of this quality, not mere hours. At least we caught a glimpse.
94th Aero Squadron
Supper was at the 94th Aero Squadron at College
Park. It was Kathryn's and Don's birthday, Al's Leona's wedding anniversary,
also Robert's Francine's anniversary, with Roger's Francine's (not the
same Francine) coming soonSmost of the above-mentioned wore the German
tin helmet and had their photos taken, to the strains of In The Mood,
or the Chattanooga Choo Choo. A cake with candles was brought in and shared
and then the hotel's shuttle-bus came for us. "Bit squashed! I'm
going to have to sit on your knee. Do you mind if I put my arm round your
wife? It'd be more comfortable. Anyone missing? Speak up if you're not
here! How many of us should there be, anyway? I make it fifteen. Is that
right? Move up. There's room for another four!"
OK, so who needs to get home?
On May 21st we woke to bad weather all the way
up the coast and through Pennsylvania, worse to follow if we dawdled.
Ottawa was reporting "few clouds" at 22,000ft, perfect for Victoria
Day, if only...
"No way are we scud-running over those hills and towers."
"Flight services told me it was a crummy day, below marginal. There's
a 400ft broken ceiling with tops at 20,000."
"This is the Annual Rockcliffe Flying Club Bus Trip, folks! It's
an eighteen hour drive."
"I don't fancy that. Here's John. Hey, John, are you willing to fly
someone else's plane IFR?"
"I'll have a coffee before I answer that."
"Well, here's a list of the people who have to get back now. Who's
on the never-never list?..."
Over breakfast, after much shuffling of names,
it was decided that two IFR-worthy planes could fly eight people home,
and the other nine would either stay on voluntarily for an extra day or
two, or travel by jet that afternoon, fetching their own aircraft back
later. Enough "Frequent Flyer" (!) airmiles were available for
some people to get free tickets.
It was lucky Jean remembered that our other passenger,
Stepan, ought not to leave his passport behind; otherwise the Canadian
customs officers might accuse us of child-smuggling! Chris was pacing
up and down in a state of tension. At College Park airport a frail-looking,
elderly lady was busily examining charts, about to fly a six-seater single
prop. IFR to Texas with her husband, across the Smoky Mountains into the
worsening weather. She'd just had her Instructor's Licence renewed and
also worked as a tour guide at the Smithsonian. When I asked whether clouds
to 20,000ft were likely to be turbulent, she replied,
"You're a white-knuckle flyer, I can tell. Are you experienced?"
Only a little experienced, I had to confess.
return
At 1020, VAX did a short field take off, to be
sure of clearing the trees.
"Canadian Victor Alpha X-ray turn right heading 330 climb and maintain
4000 contact Baltimore Departure on 128 point niner turn right heading
030 onto Victor 265 left heading 330 altimeter three zero-zero one right
heading 010 direct Harrisburg. Do you have LORAN on board?" Simultaneously
scribbling this down, responding on the radio and keeping the aircraft
on course and climbing, Chris and Jean already had VAX in the cloud, the
ground far out of sight. Thank heavens the interior of stratus is not
all that bumpy, although Robert's 'plane, leaving forty minutes after
us, did encounter turbulence.
We flew in a wet fog all the way, but which got
brighter and warmer as we ascended.
"As smooth as a baby's bottom," comments Chris, putting it another
way, "like flying through thick soup." We were to climb and
maintain 7000, which took a long time with four people plus luggage. Jean
assured me we were well within the limits, 100lbs under gross weight.
Stepan settled down to sleep in the back, sensibly putting his cap over
his face to cut out the glare from the whiteness all around.
 |
After
flying like that for two hours, sometimes between cloud layers, we
popped out of the clouds just below 4000ft and dropped into Binghamton,
NY. The airfield was atop a flat hill, at 1600ft, although ATC reported
the density altitude to be over 6000ft, that day. |
Lindberg
once made a forced landing here and a photo of Emilia Earhart showed her
coming to inspect the very first flight-sim., the Link Trainer, invented
in the '20s by Edwin A. Link, a local man. They have one on display in the
terminal. We'd parked our C172 behind a Cessna Citation. Having checked
our bags through security in order to grab refreshments we decided to carry
on home. The weather would improve over the Canadian border and "Sig.
Met." was still well away, in the vicinity of Lake Erie.
So we followed the Victor airways, mostly V29, to
"Cyril," crossing the St Lawrence just beyond Ogdensburg. Still
in the IFR system we landed among the passenger jets at Ottawa. The border
guard didn't even ask to see our passports. We cleared customs by 'phoneSand
so returned to Rockcliffe.
Over the course of the next two and a half weeks
of unfavourable weather, the remaining aircraft homed in one by one. Laurie
actually made a total of three return trips to Washington, returning first
to collect XBU and finally to give Roger a ride so that he could bring back
KQX on June 7th. College Park Aero Services treated their Canadian visitors
with great consideration throughout, only charging $50 dollars for 18 nights'
worth of tie-down, for instance. We owe them our thanks.
moral of the story: don't invade the US on Victoria
Day! If your joie-de-vivre persuades you otherwise, go to College Park for
the friendly welcome, but be prepared to come back IFR ...or you could find
yourselves on that never-never list.
oldest
in continuous operation in the world. It is certainly one of the friendliest.
