Light In the Dark Places

Room 429 is small and dark with a king-sized bed and an awesome view of the highway, the almost-full moon, and the landing lights of traffic on final approach at YVR.  The billboard across from me reminds me that bad breath isn't sexy; I’m pretty sure no one on the overpass directly across from me can see me in my nightie writing in the dark.  I wonder if room 428 across the hall has a window that tracks the approach all the way to touchdown.

My mind wanders back to another dark day in mid-February when I sat writing on what felt like the hundredth day of rain.  Boredom, loneliness and an edgy discontent had me firmly by the heart.  I had slipped in and was about to sink deep into all of it.  I knew that the only way out was to make a bold move.

Just as it had almost every single time I ran into something challenging, my mother’s voice rang inside my head: “What are you going to do about that Honey?”  What was I going to do about it?

I looked at my desktop and a gracious and confident Elizabeth Montgomery looked back, and I asked the question that always grounds me.  I already knew the answer. 

What would Samantha do?

With a snap of my fingers I answered out loud that same bold statement that propels everything I do: “She’d conjure that sh*t up!”

And so that’s exactly what I did.  I picked up a humble piece of loose leaf paper and created what I now call The Nexus – the meeting place; the place where all things come together.

Although I had been visiting this restless desire off and on for a while, I didn't know exactly what I needed.  I did, however, know what I craved:

·         Greater opportunity to develop my own leadership skills; and

·         Deep and genuine connection with like-minded people.  I knew my tribe was out there somewhere.

I didn’t set goals.  I didn’t write out my intentions.  I just knew if I wrote something - anything - on that loose leaf paper that the words would do the work for me.

I wrote a list of groups or organizations where I knew seeds had been planted.  And I wrote down three projects that had been on my mind for a long time but I hadn’t had the courage or connections yet to make them so.

Just in the writing of it the spell had been cast.  I set my pen down, turned to my computer and my-people-on-the-other-side presented me with my first opportunity in about two clicks of a mouse.  There on my Facebook news feed was an announcement for the 2014 Canadian Aviation Hall of Fame Induction Ceremony (CAHF was top of the list – check).  I immediately “traded in” my annual trip to Vegas for a quick trip to Calgary.  I instantly had something to look forward to.  Bye-bye discontent.

Where there were no opportunities I created my own and invited others to join me.  We were soon surrounded by a gang of do-gooders whose energy would propel us all forward in ways we had not anticipated.

The Snowbirds loving up their people
(that would be us) in Comox.

We started our own chapter of Women in Aviation (check) and began creating more meaningful connections with women in our community and the men who supported us.  We found even greater opportunity in connecting with the Sea-to-Sky Chapter and the Rocky Mountain Chapter while feeding our airplane addictions; most importantly we had A LOT of fun doing it!

At some point I fell in with a rowdy crowd from across the field.  They seduced me with their beautiful PBY Catalina (check) and I began working with them on what can only be called our labour of love! She’s gorgeous, has a ton of personality, is a little high maintenance but is worth the extra attention.

Do not let their mild manner
fool you.  These guys are
trouble with a capital T!

Many Saturdays I was swept away by my guys and their storytelling.  Sometimes one of the fellas in the hangar behind us would play some music from the era of the airplane and I would get lost in time.  I would leave them with sore hands from scraping paint and a sore belly from laughing so hard.  Our motto was: "No one else on Earth is doing what we are doing today." Boy, wasn't that the truth!

More and more every day I was reminded that I am the luckiest girl in town.  Gone were the rainy-day pangs of boredom and loneliness.

I hadn't really understood the power of the loose leaf paper.  The same week I became President of my Flying Club I met an astronaut, a WWII flying ace, a trailblazing bush pilot and about 300 other mind blowing individuals.  I was asked to speak to a number of organizations and the whirlwind of freedom and friendship grew.  And I loved it.

One sunny summer day at the end of July I spent money that I didn't have on a plane ticket to attend the Aviation Leadership Foundation's High Tea Adventure (check).  As one of the speakers, with trepidation I braved a deeply personal speech and I was worried that I had given too much of myself away.  I knew there were a few back in my hometown who were not pleased that I had gone to follow my heart's desire in the Big City, but none of that mattered to me because I was surrounded by encouragement, kindness and inspiration.

As I waited for my float plane I sat on the dock in the sun and ate my speaker's gift sending chocolate-covered heart-songs to the Universe.  Still unfolding was the perfect day. All the way home our Harbour Air pilot flew low level over the glistening seascape.  A pod of killer whales just south of Active Pass played and danced in the sunshine as we circled overhead at 400 feet, and I praised The Boys (also known as my-people-on-the-other-side) for gifting me with this supremely ideal day and I wondered if it was all "worth it".  I asked that they turn the risks I took that day into opportunity.  Like the good business woman I am, I asked that they make it "valuable" - like it wasn't already.  I wondered if they would transform the unbillable hours and money spent into experience that would change everything.

Six days later EVERYTHING did change.  I suppose I got exactly what I wished for, it just didn’t play out exactly the way I thought it would.  It felt as scary as it gets - like I had walked into a wall with screaming banshees at my back.  In the days that followed I discovered that some of the people I always thought had my back, didn't.  At all.  Fear and fatigue crept up into my mind and whispered spine-chilling untruths about my body and my bank account and it wasn't just the night talking.  There were no certainties, especially not from the doctors.

Here in the dark again, I found champions in unexpected places.  The community we had raised rallied and held me up without even knowing they were doing so and out of the ashes rose a phoenix-like silver thread of hope, love, and deep gratitude.

I was shown gifts that I had always possessed but was too wrapped up in the drive to appreciate.  I walked away with a clean slate and greater opportunity for authentic relationships and meaningful connection.  Here was a scrumptious community I was proud to be a part of.  I feel so privileged that I can put my arms around these people and hug it out.  I am so blessed.  And in all of that a miracle found me and life is new again.

And now it’s November and I am about to meet my new Triad in the Aviation Leadership Foundation’s Mentorship Program (check).  I sit back on the bed in the dark familiar place and soak in the dreamy anticipation of greater challenge and favourable circumstances to connect with "my people".

In this reminiscence, I remember that The Nexus still holds two projects I have not yet started – but they’re next.  I know it.  I’ll get the sign when the time is right.  The magic will find me.

The only question now is whether or not I should eat the complimentary Mars bars left on the desk or should I save them for the next rainy day bail out?

What would Samantha do?

Seaplane Seduction

On the way home.  Same plane - different pilot.
I've forgiven him but don't tell my mother.

On a cold December evening when I was eight months old, I was dropped out of a float plane by the pilot, narrowly escaping the icy cold Queen Charlotte Island winter water by about an inch and a short second.  My father caught me.  My mother said the pilot threw me out of the plane as if I had been one of the bags.  And so began my love affair with seaplanes.

I have hundreds of photos.  Read all the books.  Stalk Pat Bay Air’s website.  Read the syllabus more times than I would like to admit.  Even though in recent years there has been a bunch of not-so-hot press, an inquiry and a ton of sass, it’s still my dream to fly floats.  You cannot be a pilot living next to the sea and not know how to fly a seaplane can you?

Float planes are magnificent to watch from any perspective.  When I am flying 1000 or 2000 feet above them they look like speed boats racing against the blue-grey sea.

When on Salt Spring Island I stay in the same room at the Harbour House Hotel because I know Salt Spring Air is going to fly directly over my room.  I’m the girl that will mow down old ladies for the cockpit seat on a Harbour Air flight.  I had a pilot friend once say to me that he and I could never travel on the same harbour-to-harbour flight because it would be a fight for the right seat.  Here’s a newsflash – I used to box competitively AND I wear high heels every single day.  You try and fight me for that seat and when you get my shoe out of your temple we’ll talk about who is sitting next to the pilot.

When I was younger my girlfriends used to talk about their first dates and I would always say: “Was there a float plane involved?”  Nobody got it.

Now my cougar girlfriends talk about their “dates” and there is always the inevitable “… and you’ll never guess where we went…”  My response is always the same: “I don’t know.  Was there a float plane involved?”  I don’t know why they don’t talk to me about that stuff anymore.

According to the CFS (Canadian Flight Supplement) our harbour is an airport, which means I live on the edge of a runway.  Depending on what direction the wind is blowing, short final is my backyard.  Literally my backyard.  Whether I am on the walkway, in my car, my sun room or Starbucks, every time I see a float plane I look up, point and say to no one: “There’s our guy.”  What I love about being me is that people say it to me now:  “Hey, here comes our guy.”  Could be six planes in a row – they are all “our guy” and they are all for me.

These pilots fly in the craziest weather.

A couple of years ago during a windstorm the winds were gusting 41-48 kts (up to 90 km/hr).  I was shocked to see West Coast Air still flying, and being a bit of a freak, I took my children down to rocks on the shore so we could watch the planes in that wind.  I spotted this rock star turning base and the drift was incredible.  I have never seen a plane pushed like that before – on final it appeared as if the plane was suspended motionless.

I held my breath watching the attempted landing and with the eventual overshoot I let out a huge sigh of relief but couldn’t help but think: “What are they going to do?”  I ran through all of the other possibilities in my mind but watched incredulously as they came around again.  My daughter chanted: “You can do it.  You can do it”, as she held tightly to my leg so she wouldn’t blow away.  One phenomenal landing later and it was like our team had just won the Superbowl!

Another time I was walking on the walkway and was showered by water off the floats as a pilot performed an incredible short run take off directly over me with a steep climb over the condos at the water’s edge.  Again the wind was fierce and I felt as if the only thing keeping them up was the sheer force of my will.  Couldn’t believe my eyes!  I walked away praying to the God of the Float Plane Pilot feeling as if I had just witnessed a miracle.

Even when it’s really nasty out there, these pilots fly with such grace under pressure.  What’s interesting is when you’re sitting in the cockpit next to them; ask any of these cowboys if they love it and they will all tell you how monotonous it is.  Same-flight-a-whole-bunch-of-times-every-day.  And I always answer: “You’re living the dream.  You know that right?”

That’s when they smile and get that twinkle in their eye.

There was a float plane involved.

I knew it!