SO PROUD TO BE A CANADIAN

It makes me so proud to be a Canadian.

Omar Khadr Not Tortured, Gitmo Judge Finds

The land of the free and the brave Military have held a Canadian child in a questionably legal prison for eight years. Now I am no international legal expert or lawyer, but this is how I perceive the situation. This Canadian child (possibly a brainwashed mixed-up child) was legally visiting a country with the blessings of the legal government at the time. The USA led NATO forces invaded this country. NATO forces as far as I understand did not declare war on Afghanistan. I guess this eliminates those picky little rules of war. It appears he was in the wrong place at the wrong time; in any event he was very seriously injured by the invaders fire.

He was captured.

He allegedly threw a hand grenade or some such device, which in most cases taken at face value would be considered some form of self defence. He allegedly killed a US Medic. The killing of this Medic is very unfortunate and sad, I'm sure all Canadians share the grief and sorrow of this Soldiers family. The Canadian youth - now I believe twenty-three years old - is being tried by the United States Military. It seems strange to this Canadian, that we as a Sovereign Nation, respected member of NATO and closest neighbour to the USA do not see it as our duty to try the accused based upon Canadian (or possibly international) law.

We must have no Justice system. I guess we have no Lawyers. It must be we have no Judges. We have no pride in our Justice system. No able Prosecutors. No Defence lawyers to act for the accused. No concept of Justice or pride of Country.

I am so proud to be a Canadian

Beth - studying map - Then Lost again

 

We have been taking walk's in the Watershed park lately - there are a lot of trails
going all which way - this means most of the time we are lost. It is a beautifull, peacefull refruge from the busy world only meters away. Although the park is probably only about forty acres all told, we manage to find a new way to get lost every time we enter.Now I must admit the term LOST is a relative term, we are lost in the sense we don't know where we are for the moment, but we are only a 15 minute walk home once we find our way out! For example - within five minutes of taking this picture we were lost again and found a very deap revine we did not know existed, so we stopped and had our Root Beers and took some pictures of Beth's left over drink running down the trail- an exciting day for the old folks. Which in itself is a rather interesting subject - getting old that is. We don't actually think we are getting older until something comes up (like jumping over a log) and you fall or even worse don't event try to jump over it - sigh - it is all too depressing. That is until you accept where you are within the great scheme of things and enjoy each others company.

THE DELTA QUEEN

THIS IS A GOOGLE EARTH SHOT OF LOW TIDE AND THE EXACT LOCATION OF THE ADVENTURE
OF THE DELTA QUEEN

I was going to have a first class hissy fit about The top two Canadian banks
and their unmitigated gread,audasity,stupidity, and I will come up with several more adjectives to describe both of them and their letters to pretty much any canadian reading this about there dire needs and how they must raise rates and charges. This at a time when they recieve money at the lowest rates in generations. When they both have made record obscene profits and when they both are giving a whopping one half of one percent interest to their customers. These charges on a host of services go up in many instances by one hundred percent - yes that is 100% - other rate changes for credit card interest go from a low 19% to somthing like 26% if you miss a payment. Gee looks like I have started my rant, but I will relax for a day or two and then return and do it properly.
So as I was beginning to say I decided to post the following little story that has been bouncing around in my little brain for quite a while.

THE DELTA QUEEN

George was a prairie boy. Like many boys born in Saskatchewan during the dust filled 1930s, he had always had a longing for the ocean. More to the point he had a suppressed obsession with owning a grand ocean going boat.

George and Mary married in the mid 50s and moved to B.C. all on the same day, a few years later they moved to Delta. As the reader may know, Delta is a Municipality located on the ocean at the furthest South Western tip of mainland Canada. It took a few years and a few children later, but finally George made the plunge and bought what was to his eye, a jewel of a ship. To more knowledgeable seafaring blokes it may have appeared to be more of a lemon.

To be sure George did have a few problems at first. He now owned a beautiful 21ft Cabin cruiser with a 110-horse power Volvo inboard/outboard that positively gleamed. It was with great excitement and expectation he for the first time pressed the start button.
Nothing.

Well not quite nothing, there was a little click.

Eventually after several ‘experts’ giving their opinions with no results, the motor was shipped to the Volvo repair shop where it was determined the pistons were rusted solid to the cylinder walls. Several hundred dollars later the engine was returned and put into the boat, but not until a foot of water was pumped out of the wooden hulled beauty. This craft looked like a fiberglass boat, but in fact it was plywood, covered with fiberglass, this made it (at least for prairie boy) most difficult to find any leaks.

In any event George spent many a happy hour tinkering and fooling around with his beauty. It was on one of these tinkering days (tinkering at the dock was much safer than getting out on the big ocean) on a spring afternoon that George had what was to be remembered for many years by his fellow Air Traffic Controllers as the “Adventure of the Delta Queen”

George was on his way to work at the Vancouver Airport on the afternoon shift and as he often did, left early so he could work on his boat. He took his good clothes to change into after working on the boat; no dummy was our friend George. So after an hour or so of basically wasting time, a brilliant thought stuck George, why not go to work with his boat. It is important here to visualize the terrain in this part of the world. The municipality of Delta is south of Vancouver BC, the South Arm of the Fraser River is the northern boundary between Richmond and delta. The Fraser River as it flows into the Straight of Georgia divides into three arms, The North Arm (which separates Richmond from Vancouver) the Middle Arm (which has the seaplane dock for Vancouver International Airport and The Air Traffic Control Centre) and the South Arm.


He threw his good clothes into the boat, pushed the starter, put it into reverse looked behind him, gave it a bit of throttle and immediately fell to the floor as the bow rope tightened to the dock.

As he slowly chugged past the men working on their nets (AT THE PERFECT SPEED TO MAKE THE GREATEST BOW WAVE) he felt like the proud and brave seafarer he was rapidly becoming. He realized this was true as the men all waved to him in what he took to be a nautical one fingered salute as he passed.

It was so peaceful sitting on his high stool on the bridge looking at this new and wonderful world, starting out on his first little adventure with his ship going down to the sea. As he chugged along he only had one more friendly one finger wave, it was from a very large fellow, who it seemed to George was maybe chocking, since his face was quite red.
No time to worry about strangers health, must keep alert to find where this famous Ladner Reach met the large South Arm of the mighty Fraser. He really need not have worried, as it ran straight (well it did after the bridge opener guy at the Westham Island bridge told him to turn around) into this large rather scary body of water, complete with large ocean going freighters and local fishing vessels.

Reaching the South Arm was quite a thrill. George as was his wont spoke to himself out loud. ‘Well George boy, you did it. All we do now is follow the river to the Strait of Georgia make a right, another right at the Middle Arm and there you are at the Air Traffic Control Centre, piece of cake.’ Once again George marveled at the beautiful blue sky and the feel of the sun on his face, although he did notice that as he proceeded west toward the ocean there seemed to be a little mist forming. Now was the time to see what this baby would do, he opened the throttle almost full and the feeling of power and joy thrilled his little heart. However he was a bit reluctant to open it all the way up as there was quite a bit of chop around from all the boats around. So George just left it so the hull was not planning properly, just at that in between speed (maybe 15 knots) to use the most fuel.
After about what seemed a very long time heading away from land he passed the lightship, (a Light-House at the end of a spit of land about two miles off shore) and almost immediately lost sight of land. What a feeling, alone, just water, sun and mist, or was that fog on the water? It really didn’t matter as the sun was shining through, and it was now smooth as glass. George being an Air traffic Controller knew he wasn’t out of the shallows yet, and depending on the tide you had to go further out. Unfortunately George had not checked the tide tables, but like he figured they wouldn’t mean much to him anyway since this was his first time on the ocean. So he just decided to go a good ways out to make sure. The feeling of the water thumping the hull, and the exhilarating cool fresh damp air against his face was beyond joy. Suddenly it dawned on George; he had been steaming away from land for quite some time. So he made a ninety-degree right turn, pushed the throttle to the firewall and almost instantly his beautiful craft leveled out on the step and he was literally flying at about 30 knots.

As he cruised along with no cares in the world, with the sun shining weakly through the thin fog, he kept a sharp eye out for water traffic and was just a little nervously scanning to his right for any sight of land. He figured he was getting close to the Middle Arm as he could see aircraft climbing off runway 26 at Vancouver International. As he strained his eyes to find sight of land he glanced to the stern, to admire his Volvo humming away. To say the sight he saw was shocking is an understatement of enormous proportions.
George had heard the saying ‘Rooster Tail” when referring to those monster Speed Boats that raced down in Seattle. It never crossed his mind his cruiser could ever go fast enough to make a rooster tail. So one can imagine, or maybe not, the joy and fascination George felt as he saw this plume of water rising at least ten feet into the sky behind his speeding craft. At virtually the same instant George noticed something else: the plume behind him was brown, sort of the color of sand. Now George was a very quick thinking individual, his thought process went something like this – brown – sand – expensive Volvo engine – sand going through engine – very bad – cut throttle. George instantly cut the power.

A very big mistake.

The craft went from 30 knots to zero in about two seconds. When George picked himself of the deck it was eerily quiet, no slapping hull sound, no wind sound, no motor sound, silence. He stood up (as best he could on the twenty degree angle of the deck) and looked around. All he could see in any direction was water and thin fog. It was as if he had been dropped in the middle of the Pacific Ocean in a life raft, granted a rather large life raft. His first thought when he chopped the power was he had hit a small submerged sand bar. As he took stock of the situation he noticed the water was about four inches deep. This really didn’t worry George that much, he could just get out of the boat and drag it off the little sand bar and away he would go. So with this in mind he took off his shoes and socks, and jumped over the side into the water. George was surprised to find the water rather warm. He went around to the bow to unravel a bit of anchor rope and get this adventure back on track.
It turned out dragging a twenty-foot boat grounded into sand was not going to be the piece of cake George thought. He uncoiled about ten feet of rope from the bow and pulled the rope that was at about a forty-five degree angle. All this tugging accomplished it appeared, was to dig the hull deeper into the sand. In fact he couldn’t make it budge. As he stood in the warm water in the glorious sunshine he wasn’t really too worried since he still had a few hours to get to work. George took off his shirt and pants, threw them into the boat, and in his underwear surveyed the situation from outside the boat. He decided to try and find out how large this sandbar really was, so he started walking away from the boat. After splashing merrily along for a few minutes, two things struck him simultaneously, this was a very large sandbar, and the boat was getting hard to see through the mist. The thought of losing sight of the boat made his heart sort of skip a beat and he hurriedly returned to the safety of his boat.
George now realized he was going to be here for bit of time, so he decided to lie on the deck and get some sunshine while he tried to figure out his next move. His reasoning went like this; if the tide was coming in, he would be afloat before too long. If the tide was going out, even to him that would be self-evident. In any event he wasn’t going to dwell on any negative thoughts.
As he lay there with his eyes closed every now and then George thought the craft would move a bit, he would look over the side but everything appeared the same. After enjoying the quiet and sunshine for about a half hour, a disturbing thought struck George. What if the tide was coming in, but just keeping the boat at the same level as it moved them closer to shore, wherever that was.
With this disturbing thought going through his mind George decided to use the whole hundred feet of rope do try and drag the boat out to deeper water. Being further out would lessen the angle from the bow to the water, and hopefully let him get out to deeper water. Before he entered the water he decided to take off his shorts, as he didn’t want them wet when he got to work. So now naked he began uncoiling the rope to its entire length. While he worked away he noticed little waves pushing the craft to the east, he now figured the tide was rising, so he was on the right track. When he had finished uncoiling the entire one hundred feet, the boat looked a long way back as he strained with all his might to get it moving. He was leaning forward at about a forty degree angle, looking straight down at the water, concentrating on one thing, get the stupid boat moving. For a few moments it looked hopeless, but then he felt the slightest movement, and with his head almost touching the water, he strained even harder. George kept the pressure on the rope, and the ship slowly followed him, like a dog on a leash.
George realized this might be a rather long trek, so with head down and back straining he staggered along, but at least he was encouraged as he heard the departing aircraft going over head, meaning he was close to his destination.

He went along for some time like this, head down, straining back, and imperceptibly at first, but then he realized the strain was getting noticeably less. At the same instant he noticed the water was almost to his knees. As the depth of the water increased the fog simply melted away, and George full of hope decided to take a quick glance ahead at the endless expanse of water.
As George looked up he was dumfounded to see a very large Japanese cargo ship steaming along not more than three hundred yards from him.
It was probably a tossup as to who was shocked the most, George, or the crewmembers leaning against the railings of their ship. Imagine their shock beginning a long journey, out of sight of land, suddenly out of the mist, a very white, naked man, walking on or in the water, pulling a boat behind? It was at this time he noticed the Pacific Western Airlines, Convair 540, banking rather steeply right overhead, he could almost make out the faces of the crew and passengers, as it flew by.

So he waved.

And he waved to the men on the Cargo Ship.

And they waved back

At this time at the Vancouver ACC the following dialog was taking place.
“Departure, PW 323 is with you.”
“Pacific western 323 Departure, radar identified, climb runway heading to twenty-five hundred, then left direct the VOR, climb on course”
“Roger, twenty-five hundred, left on course, PW 323.”
“Roger”
About one minute goes by.
“Uh, Departure PW 323.”
“323 Go”
“Yeah, Departure we’re going to level off here for a moment, something strange on the water.”
“That’s approved 323, let me know the situation.”
“Will Do.”
About another minute goes by.
“Departure 323.”
“Go, 323.”
Laughing “You won’t believe it Departure, there is a real life African Queen drama going on down there. Some guy, miles from shore, is walking in shallow water pulling a cabin cruiser behind him. And you won’t believe this; there is a very large freighter that looks like it is about to run him over. Oh, and now he is waving at us – he looks happy, and the crew on the freighter appear to be waving at him – oh and by the way he is starker’s. We are now continuing the climb on course.”

Dave the Departure controller turned to the Arrival controller Al, and told him the story.
They both laughed then Al said “Sounds like it might be that idiot George trying out his new lemon.” They both laughed and continued working.

Epilogue:
The rest of George’s day went relatively smooth. He went over his head in the water as he was waving to his friends. He finally got back to the dock after making bigger waves on the way into his berth. The friendly fishermen did not wave. No they did one better, several of them met him, and helped him tie up as he bumped into the dock.
They actually were not very pleased with him as it turned out. With clenched fists these very healthy fellows explained in very plain language the trouble he had caused them. As George was apologizing and explaining his predicament one of the biggest fellows cut off his explanation.
“Aren’t you number nine who plays for the North Delta hockey team?”
“Well yes, why do you ask?”
“I’m from North Delta and go to all the Games at the Army Base in Ladner, you are my favorite player.”
So things went swimmingly from there on.
Except for being an hour late for work.

And trying to explain it wasn’t him out there pulling that Boat.

THE PHOTO AT THE BEGINNING OF THIS BLOG WILL MAKE MORE SENSE NOW ( I HOPE)

HAITI - A TEST OF HUMANITY

I have been following the Haiti earthquake closely on the TV and Internet at home since am retired and have lots of time.
When President Barak Obama was elected there was a great deal of promises, at the time I remember saying “If he carries out one in five we should be happy”

As you can see I was not expecting him to be a superman. But I was expecting a change for the better in the administration.

However when the earthquake hit Haiti on Jan 12th 2010 and I heard his speech I was very encouraged and was positive this would not be another Katrina.




Jan 12 Port-au-Prince, Haiti Category 7 earthquake. Not too much information coming in but since the USA is only one hour away or less if from their base in Cuba. I am sure the American administration will have help arriving first thing in the morning.

Jan 13th CNN news arrives and starts reporting and showing the devastation, showing many Haitian men and women working frantically to dig victims from the rubble. The first few aircraft arrive with help. No US government presence. Evidently Cuba sent several doctors. The population is desperate for water and food

Jan 14th many nations now sent help and rescue workers – Spain – China- Canada etc.
No sign of American government assistance – believe at least one disaster crew from an American city arrived. Population desperate for water and food.
I cannot believe the USA is not on the ground in any meaningful way.

IT APPEARS I MAY HAVE BEEN TOTALLY IN ERROR ABOUT THIS NOT BEING ANOTHER KATRINA !

Jan 15th Pictures of aircraft at airport show planes from allover the world unloading supplies – Holland – France The USA not represented in any of the shots I personally observed. A Red cross official states if real help does not arrive desperate people will start taking the law into their own hands and violence will erupt.

I am now stating to think this has to be a deliberate American policy, I know it may sound ridiculous but maybe they are waiting until rioting breaks out, then they can in effect invade and do what they do best, use military force against the population.

Jan 17 Still no real American Presence. Many nations are on ground helping as best they can. The CNN crew it looks like are having great difficulty in finding many American rescue personal. Italian rescuers on the ground.




Jan 18 – Nations from all parts of the world are on the ground – including The United Arab Emirates, Israel, Brazil, and Norway.
No real USA presence!
"We do not have the capacity to fix this situation. Haiti needs help ... the Americans are welcome here. But where are they? We need them here on the street with us," said policeman Dorsainvil Robenson, deployed to chase looters in the capital.



Jan 19th Small (5.8) earthquake has hit Grand Caman Island – phoned Kimberly she felt it but it was no big deal she says.
Some media are starting to make a big deal about looting in Haiti – starving people are having the audacity to take canned food from destroyed buildings instead of just leaving it to be ultimately destroyed. The Haitian police have been firing on some of them.

There are now hundreds of American personal on the airfield. They evidently are making short sorties to delivers some water and food to the starving.

QUOTE FROM TOM LEONARD THE DAILY TELEGRAPH in the Vancouver Sun Jan 19tth 2010.

FROM AN AMERICAN LIEUT. “ We understand the Haitians are desperate for food, water and work. We’ve done a few food and water runs with the Brazilians- UN troops-it went well.” He said. “Even when we ran out of water, there were was no trouble.”

Just think this is a week since the quake – this is what the worlds superpower can do for one of it closest neighbors – I do not have the words to express my sadness and disappointment

PRIORITIES - WHO MAKES THEM

It has always amazed me the status the public (in actuallity I reckon about 1% of society- ie, judges, newspaper editors, professors, senior civil servants, and of course politicians of all stripe) place certain professions/careers/ jobs, based of course upon the wages paid to them, for the service they provide society.



This has been very apparent in British Columbia lately. In the news there has been news involving the BC parmedics and ambuance drivers negotiating for a new contract. In this same time frame are reports of "important persons" wages and perks that boggle the imagination.

The one thing that very quickly becomes apparent to any thinking person is that what one receives in pay, has absolutely no relation to what they contrubute to their fellow citizen and society a a whole. Indeed it appears to be the opposite!

One the one hand we have dedicated persons like the paramedics (and firemen) that daily work strange shifts, are called out in the worst weather in the middle of the night, to attend to THE injured or dying on a daily basis. Anyone who has been attended/rescued or has had a loved one saved by this concientious group of professionals probably have a life long feeling of gratitude in their heart.

This relatively small group of essential (as decreed by us the public) employees
are paid a modest salary of about $30 per hour.

On the other side of who is truly important to society are those "succesful" members of society that are fortunate enough to be 'Appointed' to various boards such as the BC ferries board of directors.

"Board members receive $48,000 annually and $10,000 extra when they chair a subcommittee. The board chair is paid $154,087. In addition, board members receive $1,500 a day to attend a meeting in person, and $750 to participate via teleconference" [Vancouver Sun July 30 2009]

Think about these numbers - one person is paid three times as much to stay at home and listen on the phone for a few hours, as a person actually doing the public an essential service . What do you think would be missed by the average citizen of this country - those listening in to a phone call - or the ambulance service?
Who is worth more - I mean actually worth more - when was it you last phoned a board member when a loved one needed help?

Now I must admit I have never attended any of these meetings. Although if they are anything like some of the board meetings I have read of, in sworn testimony recently, at a famous trial south of the border, these dedicated citzens are not overworked. I understand there are about 40 meetings per year, if they attended each meeting a member would make about $100,000 per year. Not a bad part time job.

However, we average brain washed members of our democratic society, as represented by the BC Governments Transportation minister, cringe at the thought of paying the actually important members of are society the same amount for a full time position.

SOMETHING IS VERY SERIOUSLY OUT OF WHACK SOMEWHERE!

NEW LEASE ON LIFE

THE BEAUTIFUL GIFT BASKET FROM MELINA AND KEN -
HAD JUST ARRIVED ON FATHERS DAY

People might get the idea I am degenerating at a furious rate, but

that is not true. For some unexplained reason the past week or so

I have been feeling like a new person - peripheral neuropothy is much better (can walk better) - knees are better (somewhat) - lip cancer much better - staph infection on mouth and chin much better - eyes feel good- energy level is much better.

All in all I am a lucky Guy

OLYMPICS - MONEY - LIFE -WASTED

Sealskin uniforms for Olympians? MPs give unanimous approval

Headline Vancouver Sun, Thursday May 7th 2009

This headline to me is more than beyond belief.

Just days earlier the E.U. (Euorpean Union) had issured a ban on the purchase of any products of the Canadian Seal hunt. This large group has without reservation, voiced the opinion of hundreds of millions of citizens of this planet, who dissaprove the slaughter of thousands of innocent baby seals. This slaughter, done for no good reason, other than the vanity of a minority of miss-informed individuals, and the political pressure from a section of this nation that refusess to leave the dark ages!

For our MP's to acquiesce to this pressure is beyond contempt!

I feel sorry for a group of men (I do believe they are all men) who, rather than try and improve their lives by retraining or education, cling to the wretched past where this slaughter was, and still, is a yearly bloodbath to continue a subsistence life style.

I like to believe Canada is better than this!

A little further into the newspaper an article (Jeff Lee's Blog) on the difference between the Provincial and Federal Governments idea of the free flow of information and the USA's idea - it appears the USA wins everytime - it really hurts me to say this!

In any event withing this blog it becomes clear the bidding process for the Cruise Ships to house the RCMP leaves a bit to be desired - and to get the information it required going to the USA.

But the interesting fact that emerges is that the rather exorbitant cost for this accomidation is about 80 million dollars.

For accommodation.

Compare this with the original cost of about 87 million - later revised to 175 million for the entire cost of security for the Olympics.

However as unbelievable as the above is, it pales in comparison with what the federal Government now estimates the maximum cost for security may reach

One Billion Dollars

Can you imagine what the public would have voted for if they were told before we won the Olympic bid of this cost - a cost that leaves absolutely no lasting benefit - none.

If memory serves me properly - this was about the original total cost we were assured could be made good.

Imagine what could be done with this amount of money that is totally wasted.
It sure makes one wonder.

AIR TRAFFIC CONTROL - TO GIVE A CAPTAIN A HAND

THIS IS AN ACTUAL PICTURE OF THE ACTOR (MY PASSENGER) IN HIS COSTUME - LOOKING CONSIDERABLY BETTER HERE!

THIS IS THE GREAT MAN'S CALLING CARD!

CAPTAIN COOK


March 29th 1778 – Captain John Cook on his third great voyage of discovery, with the two ships Discovery and the Resolution explored the coasts of what later became British Columbia and Alaska. The ships made landfall in Nootka Sound on Vancouver Island. Cook and his crew in fact believed they were on the west coast of the North American mainland. A member of his crew, midshipman on that voyage was a determined twenty one year old by the name of George Vancouver. He looked plaintively threw the small porthole at the beautiful scenery. He vowed one day to return and explore this great land.

June 13/ 1792 - aboard Captain George Vancouver’s ship The Discovery in the straits of Georgia, off the coast of what is now Tsawwassen. It was a brilliant sunny day with just a little sea fog over the Eastern Shore.
“Captain, there seems to be a lot of mud in the water around these parts, must be a very large river running into the ocean nearby.” Said Wilson, second mate on Captain Vancouver’s ship.
“ Naw it doesnt look like much from here, anyway we have a lot of mapping to finish today without wasting time looking for little rivers in this wild savage place,” said the Captain, “ Keep to the Northerly heading.” However he indeed did sail into Burrard inlet and thus was the first European to arrive at Vancouver BC - named after himself of course! Regardless of this great discovery Capatain Cook over the years has remained the true hero of the West Coast of Canada!

July 1st 1978 Vancouver Air Traffic Control Centre (ACC).

“Area Control Center, Bennett speaking” I said.
“ Hey Bennett speaking, Roy speaking over here in the Tower” Roy said in his normal smart-ass tone.
“ You won’t believe who I have standing beside me almost in tears, and definitely suffering from a sever hangover”
“You’re right,” I said in my most condescending tone.” I won’t.”
“ Well its Captain Cook, and he has a big problem”
“And just what might that be” I said.
“ It seems he was to open some festival in Oliver at noon today. He was supposed to be on CP flight 6 to Penticton, which left about 5 minutes ago. Could you get the departure controller to ask the Captain if he will return to pick up his most distinguished passenger?” Roy said.

I guess I should explain how Captain Cook got into this mess.

The city of Vancouver had some form of international contest to hire an actor to play the part of Captain Cook to help celebrate his epic voyage up the west coast of North America. The winner turned out to be a young man from London England, Mr. Kelvin Andreu. Kelvin was handsome and dashing, loved the ladies and from the little he told me, was amply loved in return. His duties were to travel around British Columbia in his spiffy new Captain Cook suit opening festivals, new Seniors Centers, ride in parades and other similar type of nonsense. For this he was well paid, in fact he was very well paid.

“I would say the chances are about slim and none, but I’ll ask Dave to give CP6 your request.”

From the supervisor position in the Vancouver ACC one could, by pushing a button, listen to the aircraft and the Controller and could speak straight into the headset of any of the controllers on duty. I waited until a break in the chatter and pushed the ‘Departure’ button.
“Dave, Larry here, when you get a sec ask CP 6 if he will return and pick up Captain Vancouver.”
“Roger will do.”
“Empress 6 Departure, request.” I heard Dave say.
“Departure, Empress 6 go.”
“Roger, the Supervisor would like to know if you would return to Vancouver and pick up Captain John Cook, it appears he missed the flight.”
There was a short delay, not even other aircraft butted in, it seemed they were also interested in the reply.
“Ah that’s a negative Departure, the Captain says he wouldn’t even return to pick up Captain Crunch.”
“Roger check that OK.” Dave said.
“Did you hear that Larry?”
“Check it OK, thanks Dave.” I replied.
“You still there, Peter?”
“Im here.”
“It’s a negative on the return.”

“Boy this is going to kill this guy Larry, he is in tears, says he will lose his job, and be blackballed from the acting fraternity for life if he misses this date”
“ OK Roy tell you what – get him a lift over to the ACC, I’ll drive out to Delta Airpark and fly him there in my plane”
“ Right you are – he will be ringing the bell in ten minutes – Thanks Larry.”

I got one of the spare controllers to watch the supervisors phone and proceeded down to the main entrance just in time to meet the airport security van. George The driver came around and opened the passenger side door. “ I think this is for you Larry”. He said as a bleary-eyed 18th century mariner stumbled out onto the road.

“Are you Larry?” This apparition grunted with a distinct English accent.
I nodded
“Well I really do appreciate this but I don’t really think you can get me to my parade in time. Actually you see the parade is in Oliver BC. I was to land in Penticton and be met by some local officials and drive to Oliver in a limo. It all looks quite hopeless, we’re at least 25 minuets behind the airliner. ”
Looking at this poor wretch with slumped shoulders, glistening eyes and what could only be called a genuine hangdog expression made me want to help. Did I mention sour whisky breath?
“ Never mind all that, Follow me to my car we have no time to waste I have a plan.” I said. I did have a glimmer of a plan just beginning.
I would drive to Delta Air Park, we would untie my 225hp Beechcraft Bonanza single engine aircraft, jump in and be in Oliver within an hour. In fact if the greeting party were to drive to Penticton, stand around a bit before realizing the Captain wasn’t coming, drive back and report we just might get to Oliver before them.

So, we drove to Delta Air Park (rather rapidly) and skidded to a halt next to the aircraft.

I untied the tie down ropes , checked the oil, and did a quick walkaround.

“ OK Captain, jump in and close the door tight, cinch up your seat belt, oh and by the way do you have a real name?”
“Yes it is Kelvin Andreu I’m a professional actor from London, in fact I was the understudy to Sean Connery for the part of James bond.”
“Well that’s pretty impressive, this must be quite a come down.”
“No not really, I’ve been out of work for some time – and the BC government is paying me very well.”

We were started, did a quick runup, and in the air within five minutes.

“Ok Kelvin, when we get to ninety five thousand feet we will be cruising at about 190mph, your flight should be landing at Penticton in about 5 minutes. We are going direct to Oliver, they have a small strip only usable by light aircraft like ours, I figure we will be there before your welcoming committee has returned without you.”
“Oh man, I can’t believe my ears, if you can get me there I won’t lose my job I’ll be eternally grateful.” “In fact I will give you my plane ticket, and you can cash it in”.
We leveled off in about 12 minutes, and with a bit of a tailwind were truing out at about two hundred and ten miles per hour. The weather was clear with a few minor bumps as we got over the rocks, but nothing serious. Kelvin appeared to be a nervous passenger, maybe it was from the hangover I didn’t know, but I had a virtually foolproof cure for this problem. I would let the passenger fly. Usually this took their mind off their doubts and gave them some control (they thought) over the situation.

“Would you like to fly for awhile Kelvin?”
“No, that’s Ok you carry on.” He said, with a quavering voice and shaking hands.
“I’m sure you are cut out to be a great pilot.” I said as I passed the control column over to him. I should explain. The Beechcraft Bonanza aircraft had only one control wheel, it was on a swing over column in the middle of the cockpit. Only one person could actually fly at one time, ie no copilot position in the normal sense of the word. Kelvin did not say a word at first; he just clenched his white knuckles around the wheel and starred straight at the mountains ahead. After a few moments he dared a sideways glance over at me. His mouth dropped about a foot, his eyes seemed to get much larger when he realized I had no means to control the aircraft, and he was actually doing all the flying.
“Are you sure we should be doing this?”
“There’s no problem, if anything comes up I just depress that button and you swing the control wheel back to me, simple.”
There was just the drone of the engine for several minutes, and I noticed Kelvin was settling down and seemed to be enjoying the struggle to keep the aircraft straight and level.

Suddenly a strange thing happened – SILENCE – DROPPING - silence is very quiet when seconds before it had been quite noisy. Dropping from the sky can be a little disconcerting when seconds before one was flying fairly level, not to far above mountain peaks as far as the eye could see. The combination of these two occurrences simultaneously, upon a hung over, nervous, terrified, inexperienced passenger that believed he was in total control of the aircraft was I guess not unexpected.
He froze.
Unfortunately his hands also clenched the control column with a death grip. It appeared he lost all hearing. He looked straight ahead, with rather large eyes, but said nothing.
“No worry Kelvin, I just have to change tanks.” I said as I was tying to press the button on the control column with my left hand while trying to pull the column back with my right hand. Kelvin’s arms had gone rigid – that is straight forward – that obviously means he is pushing the control column forward – ie down – not such a great idea.
“Kelvin let go of the F---g controls” I screamed as I quickly changed my left hand over to transfer to another fuel tank. I was still trying to release Kelvin’s death grip when the engine roared back to life. NOISE, now that was good, SPEED BUILD-UP, that was very, very bad. KELVIN in control?. That was impossible. Mountains rising toward us at an alarming rate, plenty of valleys about, but they were not intent on attacking us it seemed.

There was only one thing to do I decided (now remember this all happened in probably ten seconds at most) so I punched Kelvin as hard as I could on his left ear. He immediately slumped forward like he was dead. This was not too good, he was about two hundred pounds pushing forward again. I did however have the button pushed in and managed to throw him back into his seat and brought the controls over to my side of the aircraft. I quickly regained control and climbed up the a reasonable ten thousand feet, we had only lost about two thousand feet.
Kelvin stirred and moaned a little, “Geez this hangover is killing me, my head is throbbing like I have be hit by a truck”.

“Don’t worry about that, we’ll be in Oliver in about fifteen minutes, you had better try and get yourself spiffed up a bit, we will probably land right at the starting point of your big parade”.
With this advice he started to try and get some of the creases out of his clothes, fluff up his hat, and lastly he spit what appeared to me to be most unappetizing gook on his hands, and sort of washed his face and slicked down his beard and hair. I almost threw up.

‘See over that ridge, that is the runway at Oliver, looks like a rather large crowd is out to see their hero”.
“Oh no, it does look like a large group, but I don’t see a runway, where are you going to land?”
“Well it looks like they are doing their organizing on part of it, but if we give them a little buzz they should make room for us”.
Well we did the little buzz routine, unfortunately I reckon they figured we were just some misfit that should know better than to try and land on a small runway covered in people. So I buzzed again (they had no radio) but much lower, than did a turn and landed at the far end – no problem at all. I slowly taxied toward the small grandstand at the far end of the runway with the windows and doors open. The raised fists and mouthed obscenities turned to cheers as they spotted the suddenly spry, grinning and hat waving Captain Cook.

Kelvin got out just as the party from Penticton was arriving to report Captain Cook had not arrived. I didn’t turnoff the engine, slowly turned around and took off the opposite direction.
As far as I heard Kelvin kept his job for the rest of the summer.

PS Kelvin never did give me his plane ticket.





HE DID THOUGH GIVE ME HIS BUSINESS CARD!



larry
bennett
Feb. 28 2009