"Back in the day Petersburg, AK needed five floatplane firms and a couple of helicopter companies."

Our pilot ate a lot of rabbit food at lunch. Our pilot was always charming. Our pilot was part of our “Mosquito Fleet”.

He flew his floatplane close to the water of the bays, channels, straits and inlets so that when his engine failed, he could land us safely. Then sit in the sunshine, back against the windshield, awaiting rescue.

He landed with wheels down at Thomas Bay or wheels up on his floatplane at the airport, he landed on the sidewalk at Nordic Drive and we’d still loved him.

He would lose hydraulics with no place to alight, then he’d ask his navigator where to land. A voice unlike his stick buddy’s replied “Second bay on the left, then all the way back on the right”

He preferred to land on remote beaches where ships with lowering discs came before them.

He didn’t fly with a map in his head, rather he followed a video in his mind’s eye of the last time he flew by.

And our pilot got a ride to work from his grandfather.  They drank a little coffee before grandpa flew home in his helicopter 

Author - William Moulton