Come Fly With Me BATTRATT
I would venture a guess that not many people know what they want for a career by the age of nine. Only a fraction of those could say at 26, that they made it happen.
I can say that!
My name is Connor Finnigan. My friends call me 'Finn.' I am a pilot, flying a de Havilland Twin Otter float plane for Spring Creek Air Services, based in the inner harbour of Victoria, British Columbia.
Some people call us bush pilots. I don't refer to myself with that moniker.
Most boys grow up idolizing hockey or football players. I like sports and athletes just fine, but my earliest reading memories were of history of flight.
My heroes were the original bush pilots from the first world war era. 'Punch' Dickens, "Wop' May and 'Doc' Oaks. I don't think anyone knew their given names. Regulations weren't a big thing then, but I don't believe they would have adhered to them in any event.
Those pioneers of aviation provided access to the remote areas of Canada with no roads or railway connections. Neither were there landing strips. Outfitting their open cockpit flying machines with floats and skis, they became the lifeline for transporting supplies and delivering mail to the otherwise isolated population.
Yeah, I liked it just fine when someone asked, "Are you a bush pilot?"
Garrett Finnigan founded Spring Creek Air Services a year after I was born. Flying a second hand, single engine Beaver float plane, he provided charter service to remote areas of Vancouver Island and the lower mainland of British Columbia.
One of my earliest memories is being in the cockpit with my father when I was four years old. Modifications to the right seat rudder pedals, allowed me to fly the plane at nine, under my father's supervision, of course.
I lived to fly. My first water takeoff occurred at twelve and I performed an unassisted water landing when I was thirteen.
My 17th birthday couldn't come soon enough. That was the earliest that I could apply for my pilot's license.
Nine years later, our family business is thriving with a fleet of three Twin Otters. Mom is the company administrator. My father, my older sister, Kathleen, and I, pilot the aircraft.
After completing some routine maintenance on my plane one late summer evening, I made my way along the floating dock toward the parking lot. A man and a woman stood beside a pickup truck at the end of the gangway, engaged in a heated discussion. As I approached, he dropped the packsack and duffle bag he was about to load in the vehicle. He jumped into the driver's seat and burned rubber in his hurried departure as the angry woman flipped him off.
She turned toward me as I approached, and I was immediately dumbstruck by how attractive this women was. There was an instant connection, on my part at least. The fact that she was in the late stages of pregnancy probably explained the glow about her. In my mind, a woman is never sexier than she is during pregnancy.
"Can I help?" I offered.
Despite her predicament, she managed a smile and spoke, "Thanks, no. I can call my sister for a ride. Sorry you had to see that."
"Don't be silly. My truck is right here. I'll be happy to give you a ride. Besides my mother would be very disappointed in me if I abandoned a damsel in distress."
She shrugged and walked to the passenger door as I loaded her baggage into the box.
After settling into the passenger seat beside me, she extended her arm to shake hands, "Giada Marino. I'm so grateful for the rescue."
"My pleasure. I'm Connor Finnigan. Call me Finn."
"You're Kathleen's brother?"
"The one and only. How do you know her?"
"Kathleen flies me to our mining camp at Compton Point once a month. Been doing that for the better part of two years. I'm the company geologist."
"Well as a valued customer, I am extra happy to chauffer you. Where to?"
On the half hour drive to our destination. I took every opportunity to glance at her. Giada was captivating. Once or twice, it even seemed like she might be checking me out as well. I guessed her to be a few years older than me.
Three months passed and we did not cross paths again. That didn't stop me from thinking of her often.
In early autumn, my mother called me at home one evening. "I have a job for you tomorrow. Unexpected hop to Compton Point. Your sister usually looks after this client, but she's scheduled for a flight to Vancouver. You leave at 7:00AM."
The next morning, I supervised the loading of the cargo. At just before 7:00AM, I proceeded to the customer lounge to escort the client to the float plane.
As I entered the lounge the next morning, there was a sudden realization that the client was Giada Marino. Dressed in sky blue coveralls, she sat beside another woman at the far end of the room. Her left arm was outside the jumpsuit and she was nursing an infant, her modesty protected by a baby blanket.
"I'll meet you at the plane in five minutes." She said as she noticed me waiting.
By the time she settled into the right-hand seat, the engines were warmed up and take off check lists were complete. I taxied into the harbour and pushed the throttles forward to the stops. We were soon airborne, commencing our two and a half hour flight to the mining camp at Compton Point.
When we cleared the Victoria area, I was able to divert some of my attention to Giada. Her aura was still as captivating as it had been at our first meeting.
I was brought back into the moment when she spoke into the mic on her headset, "It's good to see you again."
"Yes, a pleasant surprise for me too."
"It's not a surprise to me. When Kathleen was unavailable, I requested you for the job."
We spoke easily during the flight and by the time we neared the mine, I had learned that Giada had delivered a baby girl about two weeks after our first meeting.
The angry man who abandoned her at the dock that day, had been her significant other for nearly seven years. He began to withdraw emotionally when they learned of the unplanned pregnancy. The last contact she had with him was the day after the argument I had witnessed, when he called to arrange pick up of his personal belongings at their shared residence. Giada now shared her home with her sister, who, looked after baby Gina, as she transitioned back into a full-time working schedule.
Just before splash down at Compton Point, Giada spoke. "I will probably be tied up until early afternoon. We can grab a lunch to go here and should be headed back to Victoria by around 2 or 2:30."
While Giada took care of business, one of the company labourers and I manhandled the bulky cargo to the dock. I cleaned the hold and made sure everything left was strapped down securely.
after I carried out the routine maintenance checks of the oil in both engines and verified that all the moving parts on the wings and tail looked in good order, I pulled my fishing pole out of the rear compartment. There is a lot of idle time, when you are a charter pilot.
I sat on the end of the dock and cast my line into the cold ocean. I found myself thinking more about Giada more than the wily salmon, who were successfully avoiding my lure.
Some time later, I was pulled back into the present as Giada approached with two bagged lunches in hand. "We are good to go."
Just as I started to reel my line in, I got a hit. Minutes later, I landed a nice Coho salmon.
With my rod stowed and the Coho chilling in my ice chest, I started the engines and proceeded with the preflight routine.
While the engines warmed, Giada spoke. "Slight change in plans. On the way back, I would like to divert to Birch Lake. Do you know where that is?"
