Air Traffic Control

Extracts pertaining to Goose Bay:

After an instrument letdown and GCA approach at Goose Bay we learned that the Canadian Fanjet Falcon was only minutes ahead of us, and the crew of Race 64 carefully went over the landing and refuelling procedures for the two remaining landings between Goose and Quebec City.

While some pilots reached the coast of North America with little or no fuel left - and one didn't quite make it at all, being fished out of the water by a rescue helicopter a few miles short of safety - old pro Gann arrived at Goose Bay non-stop from Iceland with two hours of fuel aboard. Swedish pilot Olaf Callert in a single-engine Comanche did the same thing and had three hours of fuel remaining.

Despite the weather, we headed for Goose Bay. We flew over the Bellanca (Race 2 Ballanca Viking 300 17-30A) that had landed on water. And don't think that that doesn't remind you to check all your gauges again!

The second plane went into the ocean off Goose Bay. We were held in a circling pattern at 9,000 feet while the Australians, Bennett and Float (Race 73 a Twin Comanche PA-30B), attempted to cover 15 minutes worth of distance on 8 minutes of fuel. A neat trick that didn't work!

I looked out at the Beech's wings watched the ice build up and wondered when we were going in. The Beech had twice the Australian aircraft's wing surface, and no de-icers. The propeller was icing and running ragged, and fuel was running low. I was releived on hearing that the Australians were able to ditch near the coast, allowing the rest of us to land before we too were casualties.

We received excellent co-operation at Keflavik and were airborne again with a minimum of delay, but still with reduced power on the starboard engine which persisted right through to Goose Bay. This did not do our nerves that much good over the Atlantic which we flew at below 1000 feet the whole way.

We managed a VFR landing into Goose Bay in a cloud base of about 300 feet and again had a very rapid turn around, only to be delayed by air traffic on the ground requiring an IFR climb out to 10,000 feet during which time, incidently, the starboard engine cleared itself - temporarily as it turned out - and we had a relatively good run to Quebec.

Palpitations didn't end in Greenland. Approaching the Labrador coast we heard other competitors calling Goose Bay, requesting permission to land from eight, ten and twelve thousand feet. Flying VFR, we radioed "Race No. 8 - 500 feet - landing". The amazed controller replied, "Would you please repaeat that."

On the final turn, another comperitor appeared from the right, swooped above us, then prepared to land on the other side of the runway. Suddenly the Margaret Mead-FranBera aircraft hove in sight. The Control Tower sized up the situation, instructing No. 8 to land short. Mead-Bera in the middle of the runway and the third plane up front. So we all descended and landed simultaneously.

After a quick refuelling they continued, but another challenge met them at Goose Bay, where they were forced into a total blind radar landing, due to weather conditions.

Goose Bay, near the coast of Labrador, was the next stop for most racers and it, too, offered poor visibility, rain, and low ceilings. Worse, the normal surveillance radar unit was inoperative, so the traffic controllers resorted to an emergency approach system which worked well enough, but was time consuming; too much time for a pair of Australians (Race 73 in a Twin Comanche PA-30B) who anxiously watched their fuel gauges sink below "empty". They crash-landed in a bog ten miles short of the runway. At once their luck also made a quick turnabout. Like the Canadians, they were unhurt and within an hour a helicopter hoisted them to safety.

Our race was almost, but not quite, without incident. My co-pilot, Mrs. Barnick, and I flew direct from Abingdon to Rekjavik, refuelled, then set course for Goose Bay.

Coming up on the weather ship Bravo, I switched to the auxiliary fuel system. It wouldn't feed. By this time we could not turn back and head for Narssarssuaq, nor could we hope to keep flying to Goose Bay. After an hour of switching back and forth from ferry tanks to main tanks, using both the aircraft and ferry-system fuel pumps, changing mixture settings and having the engines cut out, then running and missing again, the problem resolved itself and we knew we would make it to Goose Bay. At the height of our troubles the radio had been pouring out messages about the Bellanca Viking (Race 2 Bellanca Viking 300 17-30A) that went down off Greenland.

Minus most of their personal belongings, low in funds, their plane (Race 73) 3,000 miles away at Goose Bay and possible write-off, Bob Bennett and Brian Float have that "good-to-be-alive" look, which comes easily to anyone who has escaped amlost-certain disaster.