Aviation in Alaska - An Introduction

The Taku Glacier as seen from our Cessna 175

There is a running joke in my family that I won’t let my husband be a “Fire-Bomber” – thanks to the movie “Always” – but I will let him be an “Alaska Bush Pilot”… For some reason, that seems to make a lot of people laugh…

Alaska has such a large area, with the majority of it’s towns and villages inaccessible by roads. Before aviation was introduced, everyone got around by sled dog or boat, depending on where you lived. The aviation pioneers that started flying up here had their challenges. Most of them died doing what they loved. Some of them helped to innovate new ways of getting around the state. Aviation is such a necessity here. Most, if not all, of the villages have airports, or are in close proximity to an airport. Small but dependable air-taxi services dot the landscape, providing the necessary support to the villages. Their duties range from mail and freight delivery, taking passengers “in to town”, medivacs, and so on… It’s no wonder this is the area that my husband wanted to start his commercial career in.

My husband started flying for a Part-135 Airline in Juneau, Alaska. He was taught how to navigate “Southeast Alaska” by one on the best pilots in the state. When we needed to start accumulating “actual instrument time”, we moved out in the bush, to Iliamna, Alaska. There, he flew to more remote villages, to places where the town surrounded the airport. Where there were no tower services and the way to announce your presence is to buzz the town. We had our personal airplane with us in Iliamna, and it came in handy. We would fly to Anchorage to do our shopping every 2-3 months, and hit Costco, Wal-Mart and Safeway – the staples of remote living. Living out in the bush is not for everyone, and it wasn’t for me. We moved on to bigger and better things, taking us back to the “lower-48” and then out to Hawaii.

The “bigger and better” jobs were fun for my husband, at first. Then, he got bored, going to the same place, at the same time, along the same airway, every day. He missed the challenges of flying in Alaska; of getting to meet your passengers face to face and become their friend; of getting to do the occasional “back-country Canada charter”; of going to familiar territory, but different places every day. It was then that we decided to move back to Alaska.

We returned to Juneau. The airline my husband used to work for is no longer in operation, so he works for a company out of Bethel, on the other side of the state. He commutes for the first half of the month, and then gets to come home for the second. He is back to servicing a large area of small villages. We have found our little niche and we are not moving again (I hope). Where else in the world do you have such a reliance on aviation, such a stable corner of a vastly changing industry?

With the stability, there is a sense of concern. This is Alaska, where anything can and does happen. Systems that pilots use in the “lower-48″ are practically useless here. Due to the rugged terrain, radar only works at high altitude. Even with advances in satellite tracking and advances in Capstone (a terrain and aircraft avoidance system pioneered in Alaska), I worry when he doesn’t check in on time. In Bethel, he doesn’t have cell phone coverage, so I have to wait for him to get home to the pilot house to call me. I could do without the days where he waits until 9:00pm to check in…

Living and flying here has its challenges, but I don’t think I would trade it for anything.

My husband and I at the Mendenhall Glacier