WE KNOW WHO YOU ARE!

MISTAKEN IDENITY

“Area Control Centre. Bennett speaking.”

“Dad?”

 “Kenny?”

 “Yeah Dad, I know I’m not supposed to call you at work. But I have a problem.”

“What’s the problem?”

“I can’t play in the Canadian Bantam Tournament starting today in Surrey unless I can get my Birth Certificate in to them before the game at 8 tonight”

“OK I’ll get it.”

“Thanks Dad”

So began a very interesting day!

I was on duty as an Air traffic Controller at the Vancouver Area Control Centre .It was the last week of December  1976. My son Ken played on the Surrey BC Bantam Hockey Team. We were hosting the 1976 Canadian Bantam (thirteen- fourteen yr old) Championships. Our team got into the championships due to being the host team. Usually this is almost an automatic last place finish, but we had a very good team. In fact the BC representatives were from Kelowna who we beat in the round robin event. Eventually we ended up second in Canada and Kelowna third. Not to bad for what at the time was considered to be the backwater of Canadian hockey! But I digress, that story for another time.

When I got a break I started making phone calls. Eventually I got hold of the Birth Certificate Department in the Legislature Buildings in Victoria BC, which as we all know is on Vancouver Island across the Straight of Georgia from Vancouver. After explaining what I wanted, and when I needed it, the general consensus was it was impossible to get it today, unless I could get there before 4PM. I was a very confident thirty five year old at the time; the thought of not getting the document ever entered my mind.

“OK, lets see, it’s about noon, please have the certificate ready and I will be there by 4PM”

“You did say you were in Vancouver, did you not?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know how to find our office; you do realize we are in Victoria?”

“Don’t worry, please have it ready and I’ll be there at 4.”

“OK; see you then.”

“Thanks, bye.

My name is Larry Bennett. The Premier of the province at the time was Bill Bennett – no relation (as far as I know) but we shared an amazing resemblance to each other, our voices were even eerily similar. I had in fact been mistaken for the Premier several times at Vancouver International Airport. I had recently checked out as a private pilot and owned a 1956 Cessna 172 in partnership with a fellow Air Traffic Controller. I had a whoping eighty hours or so flying time, just at the time in a pilot’s life when he/she is most at risk.  We kept the plane at Delta Air Park, a small grass strip 20 minutes by car south of Vancouver International Airport, the site of the Area Control Centre.

As it so happened we were overstaffed in the Terminal Sector (the section I worked) that day and I was able to take the rest of the day off.

 I was able to leave by about one thirty PM and by the time I got to Delta Air Park it was two. By the time I gassed up, did the pre- flight check, and the run up, it was about twenty to three. It had started to rain lightly and the visibility had dropped to about three miles or so, just at minimum legal VFR (Visual Flight Rules) minimums, but I was quite sure the weather was better at Victoria, so no worries. Our old Cessna had very little in the way of Avionics or Navigation Aids; in fact all we had was a compass and an ancient radio.

With my eighty ours total flying experience I figured flying visually in reduced visibility across several miles of ocean would be a snap. Not to mention flying back in the dark. With this vast flying experience I actually believed I knew what I was doing.

 I got off the ground and headed for Point Roberts, from where I would start the over water portion of the flight.

It didn’t take long before I realized the clouds had come down, in fact they were now based at about fifteen hundred feet. I was planning on going up to forty-five hundred feet which would give me about a six mile glide range in the event of an engine failure. At fifteen hundred feet I would be lucky glide a mile, which of course meant landing on the water - not a good plan.  But, even more important at the higher altitude it is much easier to navigate from the VFR maps. I had flown over to Victoria a few times in the summer, in good weather, and at forty-five hundred feet. This was much different.  As I started out from Point Roberts I tried to track a heading of about two hundred and twenty degrees which I figured would take me to Mayne Island, from there it should be a cinch, just follow Active Pass. Active pass is a narrow winding passage between Mayne and Galiano Islands.  However in the light rain at now twelve hundred feet, it only took a few minutes and I could see nothing but clouds and water. I started to get a bit of light turbulence which made the ancient compass dance around, making it virtually useless. Now I knew this should only take about eleven minutes, so I just peered ahead, waiting to see land which in fact are islands that go up to twenty five hundred feet in places. The daylight seemed to magically change to dusk, which was really no surprise, after all it was December in Canada, and it would be dark at around four PM. I thought I saw land ahead, yes in a few seconds I could see a shoreline. I glanced at my map, to the shoreline, to the map, nothing seemed to make sense, where was Active Pass? Eventually I realized I was actually over Galiano Island about five miles north of active pass. So I flew south, turned right, and followed Active Pass toward Salt-Spring Island.

 As I approached Salt-Spring Island I called Victoria Tower.

“Victoria Tower this is Juliet Yankee hotel”

“Juliet Yankee Hotel Tower Go ahead.”

“Roger Sir, Two miles east of Salt-Spring Island at twelve hundred feet requesting landing information.”

“Roger JYH, runway 26, wind, two eight zero at 12 knots gusting to 18, altimeter 2976, we are currently below VFR, visibility is two miles in light rain, what are your intentions?”

“Requesting Special VFR, - JYH.”

“Roger JYH Special VFR is approved, report Swartz Bay for a right hand downwind runway 26.”

“Roger, will do – JYH.”

I had a bit of trouble finding the Ferry terminal at Swartz Bay but did find it and landed without incident. After tying the aircraft at the flying club and waiting ten minutes for the taxi I was on my way.

“Where too sir.”

“Parliament Buildings Please.”

“Right you are sir; I guess you realize they close at four?” He said as we pulled away from the curb.

“Yes I realize that thank you – we will make it in time won’t we?”

“Well I will do my best, but we only have twenty-five minutes, and rush hour is just beginning.”

As luck would have it we did get stuck in traffic and arrived about five minutes late. It was a long way from the taxi to the entrance of the Parliament. As I ran up to the closed very large main door of the Parliament Buildings my heart was beating so hard I’m sure one could see my chest moving. I got to the door and immediately pounded very hard with my fist. Almost immediately the door was opened by a rather large man dressed in some sort of military looking outfit.

He glared at me.

“We‘re closed please come – oh I’m very sorry Sir, I didn’t realize it was you.”

It took a second, but then I realized he had mistaken me for the Premier.

With that he stepped aside, opened the door wide, and escorted me inside.

 He directed me to the Department of Vital Statistics. As I arrived a lovely young lady was just closing her counter.

“Excuse me Miss I am here to pick up my Son’s birth Certificate.”

“I’m sorry Sir but we have put away our day’s papers and are officially closed.”

“Yes I realize that, but I phoned from Vancouver today and you said you would have it ready – without it my Son cannot play hockey in the Canadian Bantam Championships tonight.”

“Oh, are you Mr. Bennett and your Son is Kenneth.” She said, as her eyes seemed to get larger.

‘Yes that’s right, sorry I’m late.”

“That’s Ok Mr. Bennett, it was me you were talking to this afternoon – we were having bets on whether you would make it in time.”

And with that she went back into the office and within a few minutes was back with the Birth Certificate.

“Here you are Mr. Bennett; I hope your Son has a good game tonight.”

So I paid the fee, thanked the lady again, then left and was amazed to find my taxi was waiting. 

My driver was doing a bit of paper work it appeared – I knocked on his window.

“Hi, nice to see you are still here; want to take me back to the airport?” I said.

“Well I didn’t think you would even get in, so I thought I would wait a few minutes to get you when they threw you out.” He said with a chuckle. “Besides I had a bit of paper work to catch-up on.”

As we neared the airport I suddenly realized I was famished, and since it was pitch black out now it really didn’t matter if I left immediately or in another half hour so I decided to stop for a quick bite.

“Driver – a small change of plans, you can drop me off at the Main Terminal instead of the Flying Club.”

After I had paid my friendly driver I went straight to the small restaurant and sat down in the nearest booth. A waitress almost immediately came over.

“Good evening Sir; would you like a menu?”

“No thank you miss, could I just have a cheeseburger and coffee please.”

“Right you are Sir, coming right up.”

I notice as she went behind the counter she tapped another waitress on the shoulder and motioned in my general direction. The second waitress came straight to my booth and sat down across from me.

“I’m so glad you came in tonight Sir. You remember that letter I gave you last week; well I have changed my mind would you please destroy it.” She said looking quite agitated.

For a second I couldn’t fathom what she was talking about – then it clicked in.

 “I’m sorry young lady, but I’m afraid you have mistaken me for someone else.”

“No I haven’t Mr. Premier.”  She said with a satisfied smile.

“I’m not the Premier.”

“Yes you are.” More emphases on the ARE.

  “I am not Premier Bennett.”  I said firmly.

“Of course you are, and I can prove it.” She said as she got up and strode through the kitchen door.

A few seconds later she and two men wearing white cooking clothes approached my booth.

“Ok now I’ll prove who you are. Who is that man sitting in the booth?” She said to her friends, waving a hand in my general direction.

They both, almost in unison, said.

“Premier Bennett.”

At the same instant the other waitress plunked my burger and coffee on my table and said.

“Coffee and burger Mr. Premier.”

So, realizing when to quit, I just did the proper thing.

“Ok, Ok, you all win; can I now have my lunch in peace?”

With that the lot of them smugly went back to work.

All the while this fiasco was playing out a nagging thought was buzzing around in my little mind.

I had never flown an aircraft at night. I had never flown at night over the ocean. I had never landed at an airport at night, let alone a small grass strip with no lighting. I wasn’t sure if the weather had improved or gotten worse. I was just a little concerned.

I finished my food, and as I paid the girl at the till, I very loudly, so all the staff and customers would be sure to hear said.

“And for one last time: I am not Bill Bennett!”

As I left the restaurant and the babble of voices behind, a fresh cool breeze brushed my cheek, no rain at all, no stars that I could see either, in fact it seemed like a rather nice evening – for walking!

I did a quick walk-around, ensured there was a wing on each side and a propeller, untied the ropes and jumped into the aircraft. Suddenly I truly realized this was it. I turned on the pathetic little red light that illuminated the instruments, primed the carburetor and the engine stated on the first turn.

I called Victoria Ground Control for taxi instructions to the live runway.

“Victoria Ground this is Cessna 172 – JYH at the flying club requesting taxi clearance and the latest Victoria and Vancouver weather.”

“JYH – Victoria Ground – runway 08 –wind 100 at 4 knots – altimeter 2998. Our latest weather shows a ceiling of 3000 feet with some scattered at 1200. The visibility is 4 miles. If you like we can approve runway 30 with a right turn. Will have the Vancouver weather in a few minutes.”

“Roger Ground check that all Ok – I’ll take runway 30 thank you.”

“Roger JYH cleared to taxi for runway 30 – Call tower on 119.9 when ready to go.”

So I proudly turned on my brand new taxi/ landing light, (I had just installed it last week) and taxied slowly to runway 30. I did a very thorough run-up, everything looked good and I called tower for take-off.

After getting airborne it sure seemed dark, although of course there were the airport lights below as I climbed and a few scattered lights to my right, which I assumed were from the small town of |Sydney. As I turned toward a heading of about 020 degrees the Tower gave me the YVR weather which was about the same as Victoria but with 5 miles visibility.

Five miles – one mile more than Victoria, every bit helps. This made me feel a little better.

In a few minutes I had left the airport behind and was over water, it was even darker now, no lights to be seen except a bit of haze from my landing light, which I then remembered to turn off. I was now level at about 2200 feet and could sort of see the shapes of islands and hills, I was rather nervous, but nevertheless enjoying the adventure and concentrating on navigating, i.e. – not hitting land in any form. After fifteen minutes I sort of figured I would be about the western end of Active –Pass.  A few moments later to my joy and relief I looked down and saw one of those beautiful BC Ferries steaming along with what looked like thousands of lovely lights glowing. Suddenly the lights disappeared-then reappeared – oh no I was flying into cloud. I immediately reduced power and tried to just keep the wings level. It was only a few seconds but my heart seemed to stop .I blinked my eyes, then there it was, the Ferry, disappearing of my left wing behind.  I was out of cloud and managed to stay that way until clear of the last island.  I now had about 12 miles across the Strait of Georgia to Point Roberts, and on to Delta Air Park After what seemed hours as I strained to see anything, a pinpoint of light slowly became the Ferry landing at Tsawwassen, I felt like I had arrived.

However there was still the little matter of finding Delta-Air-Park out there in the darkness.  I was now over Boundary Bay peering ahead trying to make out the shoreline form where I figured I could find the grass runways of Delta-Air-Park. I passed over the shoreline before I realized I was upon it, and after continuing north for about ninety seconds made a looping left turn while descending to eight-hundred feet. I came out of the turn on a heading of about 080 degrees (the heading of the East-West runway) and continued descending. I could make out the water on my right and was sure I was about the right distance north so I continued down to three hundred feet into the blackness. I was very aware of a very large barn at the eastern edge of the runway with several large trees a few hundred feet high on either side. I couldn’t see either of these obstacles but I had a feeling I was getting pretty close, so I began an over-shoot and a climb back up to eight hundred feet. Just as the aircraft began to climb I noticed a dim light off the right wing.

It was then I remembered the owners of the airport always left a 40 watt bulb burning above the entrance of the coffee shop. What a relief, now I had something to make some sort of reference too. So I completed another circuit and was again lined up with the black patch I figured was the runway. The only difference was that I was down to two hundred feet and peering intently to about my 1:30 position, suddenly there it was again, very dim but definitely a light, I continued down to one hundred feet and when the light was at 2 o’clock cut the power, held the nose level and waited. Bump-bump, on with the breaks, and I came to a stop. It was then I remembered my new landing light, and turned it on.

Suddenly- beautiful white light, there I was, in the middle of the runway.  

Tied down the plane, drove home, gave Kenny his Birth Certificate, went to hockey game, cheered myself horse, and had a great time.