Wednesday, January 11, 2023

Float Plane Pilots are Aging Out: Future of Air Taxis in Alaska?


Airplane pilots are aging out, with new pilots below replacement levels.  Management firm Oliver Wyman estimates a deficit of 8000 commercial pilots now, rising to 30,000 by 2025.

Our Piper PA 20, view from front porch

This is particularly true for the tiny subset of float plane pilots, who comprise just 3% of total pilot numbers (including my husband).  The 2021 FAA statistics counted 161,459 private pilots, so we can infer fewer than 5000 float plane pilots in the country.  Most of them are in Alaska, which has far more seaplane bases (140) than any other state in the country (Florida has only 44).  As these flyers retire, Alaska’s iconic form of transportation is diminishing. 

Many reasons contribute to the decline in numbers.

1)      1.  Because so few pilots are licensed to fly float planes, the pool of insured planes is smaller, resulting in high rates.  Two years ago, an air taxi pilot told us that his insurer announced a TRIPLING of his rates for floats, so he cancelled that summer service altogether.

2)      2.  Pilots with planes on floats in summer and skis in winter have to change out the undercarriage seasonally, an expense that wheeled planes lack.  For our small Piper PA-20, the cost is $600 to shift from floats to skis plus $50 each spring and fall to haul the plane in and out of the water.  The price is surely higher for bigger, heavier planes, even for air taxis that invested in the expensive equipment to handle these transitions themselves.

3)      3.  It is much more expensive to learn to fly now than 30, 40, 50 years ago, regardless of the undercarriage, but most people start with wheeled planes and then pay for 8 extra training hours to learn water take offs and landing skills.  My husband paid about $100/hr twenty years ago, starting with wheels and then added additional training for floats (and skis).  The total expense over the years he estimates at $10,000.  Currently, I see estimates of $20-25,000.  People who learned to fly as cadets or in the military enjoyed a substantial financial savings.

4)    4.    Many destinations for float planes are remote lodges, homes, and natural settings, so they may lack back haul cargo or passengers to cover the cost of the return.  As a result, float plane expenses for both the owner and the passengers can be higher than wheeled air taxis, which can have a steadier income flow from one rural or city airport to another.    For example, if I want to engage an air taxi at a time of year with few other passengers, I have to charter the whole plane, essentially paying round trip for my one way flight.  On such occasions, we pack the plane with supplies that we cannot fit in our little plane, like plywood or 100 lb propane tanks.   

5)     5.  Because the floats add more weight to a plane than wheels, a comparably sized wheeled plane can haul more cargo.  On the other hand, the floats of larger, commercial air taxis have (narrow) storage space for smelly stuff, like trash, garbage, and fresh animal skins.

Civil Air Patrol at Lake Hood, Anchorage

My husband and I live at a remote, fly-in only location.  Even here out in the boonies, we are aware of the following pilots who have hung up their wings:

In one small, rural community near us (population 2000), one air taxi owner/pilot got cancer and lost his medical approval to fly.  He sold his planes to private pilots.  Another was appalled to find that his hangar collapsed from heavy snow, pancaking both of his planes.  “Well, he observed, philosophically, “More time with my grandkids.” A third air taxi couple retired, and several years later, sold their dock and office to an out-of-state pilot who flies in the summers only and promptly doubled the rates given the dearth of competition.  Two accomplished pilot friends in their 80’s, one commercial and one private, may be wondering when their last flight will be, and to whom they can sell their immaculate float planes.

Further north, the FAA grounded a man who trained and examined a generation of float and ski plane pilots, reducing the paucity of people qualified to do so.   

In Anchorage, a flight teacher who used to do touch and go’s on our lake has retired.  Whoever bought her planes did not buy the business, too.  A phenomenally knowledgeable air taxi pilot in Anchorage retired to Louisiana, near relatives.  A veterinarian who used to fly to remote locations to care for racing and other dogs sold his plane to a friend of ours when he aged out.

Obviously as people age, they make different decisions about business or pleasure, based on health and expenses.  But I can’t help thinking that I am seeing, if not an end of an era, a dramatic reduction of float plane competent pilots.  This saddens me. 

Float planes can travel where wheeled planes cannot – to pristine lakes, glacier fed rivers, gorgeous log lodges and modest plywood cabins.  They connect technology with nature, air with water, noise with silence.  They travel where roads and bridges would be prohibitively expensive to build and maintain, leaving little trace on the landscape.  They require no runway. 

I salute all float plane pilots, past and future.  If you, as a reader, are not one, I encourage you to add to your bucket list a flight in a float plane to some lovely destination.  It will be memorable.   

Friday, December 23, 2022

How We Do and Don't Keep Warm Below Zero

The week approaching Winter Solstice has been clear and cold.  Today, it is minus 15 degrees F.  Hoar frost (from ice fog) coats the bottom thirty feet of forest that spikes through 6.5 ft of sugary snow. The spruce boughs droop white. I see no animal tracks at all.  Everyone and everything is hunkered down on these short days of blue light at 9 am and sunset at 3 pm.

Hoar frost coats the branches

Outdoors, we do our jobs as quickly as thick mittens and bulky parkas allow.  When I light the fire for the hot tub, (yes, we bathe outside at these temperatures), I notice an inversion layer of cold air that presses the smoke to flow horizontally out of the chimney.  To the chickens, I carry warm water and snacks of meat fat or seedy berry pulp. I kick a hole in a frozen layer of the chicken water, pouring warm water in the allegedly heated bowl.  Their coop is insulated, with a thick carpet of straw, but their body heat and a light bulb are not enough to keep their eggs from freezing, which I boil and feed back to them. 

Down to about zero, we walk on the frozen lake, playing fetch with the dog, who skitters and slides on icy patches.  Below that temperature, a stroll or a brisk walk is less appealing to all of us.  Buddy lifts alternate back legs off the cold snow, but I have not yet succeeded in getting him to accept four fabric and Velcro booties.   

Our machines suffer, too.  The solar batteries are nowhere near as efficient in winter as summer, so we awaken to a loss of power every morning (if there is no wind for the wind turbine).  In the cold and dark, Bryan trudges uphill to the power shed, dragging a sled with the ever-reliable Honda generator that he warmed in the cabin overnight. Plugged in for about four hours (one gallon of gas), we eke out another 20 hours of electricity.

Inside the 750 sq ft cabin, the wood stove burns 30-45 logs per day, 24/7.  The 23 gallon aluminum hot water tank above the stove radiates some heat into the room, but we still need to wear several layers of clothes inside.  The double layered windows need additional insulation, so we hang blankets over rebar, tucking them behind the drapes during the day.  However, the chilliest corners of the log cabin measure 29 degrees today. Olive oil has congealed on a shelf.  The warmest center of the cabin, though, is a pleasant 60 - 63.

Summer view of our woodstove

The drain under the kitchen sink freezes, so every morning, we plug in an electric line that dangles inside the pipe to warm it.  On exceptionally cold days, when the drain line requires more power than we want to allocate, I wash dishes in a bucket and dump the gray water outside.  Outside, the well pump can freeze, too.  On those days, we bring in buckets of snow to melt for wash water. 

Challenging though this weather can be, it does offer compensatory benefits. 

We save up indoor projects and pleasures for this time of year. This morning I cuddled in bed with an Agatha Christie novel.  Previously, I finished two online courses on dog training and another on making herbal remedies.  Herbal leaves, berries, and flowers that I harvested and dried during the summer are turned into salves, balms, and tinctures now.   The chocolate brandy made in prior summers my husband likes to sip, warm, on cold winter evenings.  I favor mint tea with rosehips.

Some people may get cabin fever.  I figure it is my job to make sure that I don’t.