NO LOGICAL REASON
During the long and endless months of the Second World War, Canadian skies from Cape Breton, Nova Scotia to Vancouver Island resounded with the bellow and drone of aircraft engines and, for those who lived in the flatter parts of the land, there was the daily sight of yellow trainers of all types. Farmers everywhere gazed skyward, hand held to shade the sun to see the frisky flight of a Tiger Moth challenging a novice pilot on a hot day; oily yellow Harvards with their trans-sonic snarl looping and winging in cerulean heights; schools of Cessna Cranes and Avro Ansons rising and falling on invisible currents and eddies. The same crowded skies extended across the United States too—from the Atlantic to the Pacific. There were literally tens of thousands of these training aircraft, and hundreds of thousands of students and instructors—learning the air war-fighting skills they would soon use to crush two evil empires on opposite sides of the planet—piloting, navigating, engineering, gunnery, radio operation and bomb aiming. This tidal wave of flying training crashed against North American society and geography and spilled into every part of the continent. And then it was gone even quicker than it arrived.
During the expedition of flying training, thousands of these trainers were destroyed or damaged beyond repair, but at war's end, there were still many thousands languishing in storage fields everywhere. Except those more modern aircraft that would be kept to help train immediate post-war aircrew, the vast majority of the training aircraft of the war years were disposed of through auction with nearly all of those being sold to salvage companies, broken up and rendered into aluminum ingots. Some however were bought by private citizens, crop sprayers and flying clubs and would become the foundation for the warbird “industry” we know and love today.
There are hundreds of North American Harvards (T-6 Texan, SNJ) still flying and scores of Tiger Moths, Stearmans and Cornells still rattling around the skies of North America, Europe, Australia and South Africa. While these aircraft are well known to aviation enthusiasts, air show geeks and military historians, one other, the Naval Aircraft Factory N3N “Canary”, built in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania is a rarer sight these days with only 14 in museums and a relatively small number still in flying condition out of the nearly 1,000 that were made. Even rarer are N3Ns still flying on floats. Designed as a naval aviation primary trainer, the N3N was for the most part operated on wheels, but a good number of them were built as float-equipped flying trainers for those pilots selected for amphibious and flying boat operations. Today there are many still in flying condition.
Related Stories
Click on image
The N3N was used strictly by the United States Navy and Marines, and did not fly with any Canadian military service during the Second World War, so are a rarer still sight in Canadian skies. Only one is in fact flying with a Canadian registration (CF-HUS) and you won't see this beautiful aircraft very often. “HUS” is the personal winged joy-machine of Buffalo Joe McBryan, the legendary head of Buffalo Airways Ltd, a Yellowknife, Northwest Territories aviation enterprise known worldwide for their continued operation of some classic workhorses of bush flying in Canada—Curtiss C-46 Commandos, Douglas DC-3 Dakotas and Lockheed Electras to name a few. Joe McBryan's and his son Mikey McBryan are serious operators of scheduled airline service, charter and freight businesses, aerial spraying and forest fire suppression, but their worldwide fame grew exponentially with their hugely successful History Channel TV series, Ice Pilots, NWT.
If you are devotee of Ice Pilots (people generally drop the NWT), you come to a few conclusions about Northern Canadian air operations—the weather can be brutal and unforgiving (-40C, slashing winds, blizzards) and harsh on older aircraft systems; the summer flying season is painfully short, and Buffalo Joe is about as good a pilot as can be found in the North. He continues to fly cargo flights in Buffalo's DC-3s, check new captains and first officers in the DC-3 and C-46, and fly other types while running the family business. In most episodes of Ice Pilots, Joe is portrayed as gruff and surly, not the kind of guy you'd want to run afoul of. In truth, he is simply a rough-hewn man of few words and high standards, with no time for laziness, posers or repeated mistakes. Given the never-ending grind of work and extreme conditions, one would think he would have enough after more than 50 years of continuous and exhausting northern flying. But flying is part of Joe's DNA, as natural for him as walking is for most people. While Joe would never admit to such new-age claptrap, it seems that Joe has a personal and intimate relationship with each aircraft that he flies—born of a knowledge of its systems, an understanding of its limits, countless hours with his hands on the yoke and a trust in the design of aircraft and engines that have shouldered the weight of bush flying since the end of the Second World War.
Flying the N3N was the tonic Joe needed to get away from it all and get back to basics— stick, rudder, clear air, wilderness, and a one-on-one relationship with a flying machine.
McBryan, not prone to gushing about anything, tells photographer Stephen Fochuk: “It's very neat to fly, very nice to fly.... I just fly it for pleasure around town. It's a very well-built airplane, a very strong airplane.” Commenting on the very rare single float and outrigger configuration, Joe explains: “It's built like that because after this aircraft, they (US Navy trainee pilots) would go on to the Canso—the PBY—which is built the same, a single hull with outrigger floats. Or the Grumman line of flying boat airplanes”. Speaking of the aircraft's water handling, Joe explains: “It's very stable, very well designed with no inherent danger at all.” In the air, Joe says, “you can feel everything in it, it doesn't have any bad habits. There's really no instrumentation to fly by. You fly it strictly by feel. It's real flying. It's flying at its best.” When pressed by Fochuk where the N3N stands in terms of his favourite aircraft to fly, Joe who probably has loved every aircraft he has ever flown is quick to state: “It's all on it own. There's no real favourite. They're all good for what they are flown for. Whatever one you are in at the time is your favourite. That's why you're in it. If it wasn't a favourite, you wouldn't be in it. I've never been able to pick a favourite. I've liked them all.”
Truthfully, Joe's favourite (whether he says so or not) is the Douglas DC-3/C-47 which he has been flying now for almost 50 years. “ˆIf I could do another 50 years on it, I would be quite happy.” says Joe. These words are for an aircraft that he has been flying uninterrupted since 1969, and he thinks very well of a machine that has never let him down.
But the new girl in town, the N3N Canary with the bright yellow paint, is who he goes dancing with these days. “I'm really glad I got it. I'm really glad I had the opportunity to bring it from British Columbia back up here.” Joe has continued the practice of the previous owners and taken passengers with him on most flights, for no charge. Just to share this piece of history, his Northwest territorial landscape and his joy of flying. When asked if he has had any interesting co-pilots, Joe simply states “A lot of people I take up, I don't know who they are.” If the Snowbirds or a CF-18 pilot wants I ride, Joe says “I'll take them just to show them the difference. The people who usually come have sparked an interest in another life and come to see it. The previous owners spent their weekends giving people rides around Pender Harbour in BC.” As of last year, Joe had taken 146 people. “I'd do a lot more if I had more time but I still have to fly my sched. There are lots of nice nights I'd like to fly, but I'm not here to fly it”
The previous owners, Bill and Wilma Thompson of Pender Bay, devoted much of their lives to Canada's aviation heritage and sharing their beloved N3N. Thompson acquired the N3N in 1979 and spent 12 years restoring it. When Bill, a west coast tugboat master, passed away in February 2015, Wilma knew she would have to sell their beloved airplane. She also knew that it would have to go to someone who would cherish it as much as she and Bill did and have the means to keep it in the superb shape that Bill had worked so hard to maintain. When Joe McBryan expressed interest, it was a perfect match and Joe understood his responsibilities and obligation to share the aircraft with the world. Today, the N3N flies in Yellowknife and on every flight, she carries a small amount of Thompson's ashes so that he can continue to fly her into the future.
The N3N was flown by ferry pilot Russ Orr and aircraft mechanic Dave Mulholland from coastal British Columbia, through the Rocky Mountains to Yellowknife. Both Orr and Mulholland had long histories with N3N C-FHUS. On the way, the Wright Whirlwind “blew a jug” and Orr made a forced landing on to Jarvis Lake, Alberta, west of Calgary. Here she was repaired, flown out by a pilot experienced in small lake take-offs, then over-wintered at nearby Buck Lake before continuing on her journey into Yellowknife. For a great video of her trip and attempts to fly her out of tiny Jarvis Lake, click here.
Since C-FHUS has arrived in Yellowknife, Joe McBryan has steadfastly continued the legacy of Bill and Wilma Thompson, inviting interested people to join him for a tour of the city and the spectacular wilderness around Great Slave Lake, at 27,000 square kilometers, the tenth largest lake on the planet and a perfect place for an historic float plane to live out its life. When Joe speaks, you hear the respect in his voice for the Thompsons and his commitment to their continuing story and connection to the old gal.
In a recent interview with the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, Joe was asked why he bought the airplane. he said "I have no logical reason to own it or want it.”
Perhaps this is the best of reasons, for love, passion and joy are not logical emotions. It's the one reason Bill Thompson would have understood.
by Dave O'Malley