The Boxcar Blues (28 page)

Catwalk wished he would have kept his mouth
shut. The guy said, “Who are you kidding, ain’t no way he was
president of an airline. If he was, what’s he doin’ up here flying
the bush?”

Curly stood up and Catwalk pleaded, “Curly,
let it go. It doesn’t matter.”

Curly persisted, “Listen you fat tub of
lard, this guy was president of the airline until the board of
directors railroaded him ‘cause he’s black.”

With that the guy took a swing and Curly
tore into him, pummeling his face even though the guy outweighed
him by fifty pounds.

Catwalk grabbed Curly and pulled him away
from the guy, then stepped in between them. “Curly, if you get
thrown in jail, we might lose this job. Take it easy. It doesn’t
matter.”

He turned to the other guy and said, “He
ain’t gonna bother you anymore. We’ll just finish our beers and
we’re out of here.”

He steered Curly to an empty bar stool and
they sat down. A few minutes later another black man approached
Catwalk with his hand extended and said, “I’m Jack Winters and I
used to work for Northwest Airlines. I’ve heard a lot about you.
I’m sorry you got shafted so bad. You handled that pretty
well.”

Catwalk shook his hand. “Thanks, Jack. Curly
gets a little excited sometimes.”

“
Listen, you should know
that color doesn’t mean anything up here, but the people are a
different breed. They’re leery of people from the states because so
many are running from something. They respect honesty, courage and
strength of character. And, if you see someone else who’s in a fix,
you always help them. Next time it might be you that needs the
help.”

“
Thanks, we’ll remember
that.”

Jack left and Catwalk said, “C’mon, Curly.
We’ve got our first money making flight tomorrow and I want to be
well rested because we’re flying over the roughest terrain on
earth.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Catwalk departed Valdez in beautiful clear
skies flying the Detroiter. Curly trailed him in a Gull Wing
Stinson. They each had four men from the Fish and Game Department
and boxes of supplies they were taking to Fairbanks where they’d
drop the men off, then pick up five hundred pounds of frozen fish
and a couple hundred pounds of animal pelts for the return
trip.

The flight up proved to be uneventful and
Catwalk was grateful for the fair weather, not only for easier
flying, but for a chance to take in the incredible beauty of the
land. He never imagined such an expansive and breathtaking
wilderness.

When they landed on the Chena River, next to
the ballpark that was used for land planes, the temperature was a
balmy fifty degrees. Over lunch in a diner, Catwalk told Curly, “On
a nice day like this it’s hard to imagine all the stories about the
terrible weather are true.”

“
Everyone says it can get
a lot worse than those storms in the Rockies. Sooner or later,
we’ll find out. I’d like to get a few flights under our belts
before we run into a real bad storm.”

Catwalk smiled, “Well, partner, we got one
flight under our belts.” He then finished his meal. He’d been
surprised to hear Curly express some apprehension about the
weather. He would have expected Curly to say something like, “Bring
it on, I ain’t worried about their piss ant storms.” He was pleased
that his partner showed some respect for the weather.

They loaded the fish and pelts, and departed
for Valdez. Following the Chilitna River through the valley between
Mt. McKinley and Mt. Hayes, Catwalk saw the skies growing dark in
the west. He resisted the urge to turn away from the weather, even
though it would be at its worst close to Mt. McKinley. He had to
stay over the river in case they were forced to land.

The storm was on them in minutes and they
both descended toward the river to avoid getting caught above the
weather. The wind began howling and changing directions every few
seconds. In the space of a few miles he flew through rain, hail and
snow. Now he worried about icing which could coat his wings and
force him down whether he wanted to land or not.

Catwalk looked down at the river and saw no
sandbars, but he also didn’t see a bank where he could beach the
plane after landing. He checked his wings and saw the buildup of
ice that he’d feared. He’d have to land soon and if there was no
shoreline to beach the plane, he’d be forced to somehow navigate
down the river until he found a suitable mooring area.

With the ice building, he touched down on
the river with no problem, but immediately found that the current
was incredibly swift. He felt like he was making close to ten knots
just floating down the river. He wondered, if a shoreline came
along, would he be able to maneuver the floatplane to a landing
area?

He watched in awe as the plane floated down
the river, with the gale force wind trying to turn his airplane in
every direction on the compass. Using his power and limited
steering he was able to keep it in the middle of the river, but
didn’t know how long he’d be able to stay there.

Then, he saw a bend in the river ahead. On
the right side of the curve was a sloping shoreline. He steered for
the sand and just before he came abeam it, applied power.

The plane hit the beach with a scrape and
crunch, but the floats held fast. He grabbed his mooring ropes and
stakes and hurried out to tie the ship down before it floated away.
Once it was tied down he returned to the cockpit, put on his parky
and thought about Curly.

Curly was three miles in trail of Catwalk
when he hit the weather. He’d also flown down the river and like
his partner had seen the ice build up on his wings. He’d found a
suitable mooring area, landed and tied the plane down. His problems
started after he was tied down.

He was sitting in the plane with his heater
going, eating a candy bar, when he saw a dark shadow moving through
the sleet. The visibility was so poor that he couldn’t tell what
the shape was, but it wasn’t human—it was too big. He watched the
form move toward the plane, and when it was less than ten feet from
him, Curly recognized it as a huge grizzly bear. Astonished, he
started to say something, but caught himself in time. If the bear
didn’t know he was there, he didn’t want to get its attention. He
then remembered hearing about a bear’s remarkable sense of smell.
He put his candy bar in his pocket, but there was nothing he could
do about four tubs of fish in his plane. Sooner or later, the bear
would discover them.

Catwalk worried about Curly. He hadn’t seen
the plane go by on the river, so that meant Curly had landed
somewhere, but was he O.K? In these volatile weather conditions and
with their limited experience in floatplanes, the chances for an
accident were high. He decided to walk the shoreline in search of
his partner.

Curly watched the grizzly coming closer to
the plane. Every now and then it would stand up to sniff the air,
and he was still amazed at the size of the creature—it looked like
it was eight feet tall! He took his pistol out of his flight bag
and checked the cylinder. He had six rounds, but was six rounds
from a measly thirty-eight enough fire power to stop this
monster?

The bear sat down on the shore line and
looked over a dead fish. It started to eat it’s find, and Curly
hoped this would curb it’s appetite.

Catwalk walked along the shoreline, knowing
there was a stretch of shoreline where he hadn’t seen any suitable
mooring spots. He’d checked his watch when he left the plane and
decided he’d walk for thirty minutes. If he didn’t find Curly in
that time, he’d return to his plane because he didn’t want to be
roaming around in this wilderness after dark.

The bear had finished the fish and decided
to explore the plane. Curly got ready to explode out the door if
the bear tried to get at the fish. With his heart pounding, he
watched as it came to the right side of the plane to check out the
float. The bear pawed at the float and toyed with the struts, less
than five feet from him. He felt the plane rock every time the bear
tugged at the strut. His mind was racing; Could the bear get into
the plane? Did they eat humans? Could he outrun a bear if his gun
didn’t stop it? Was there any way he could make it go away?

Catwalk rounded a bend and saw the Stinson
moored onto the shoreline. Upon seeing that the plane was in one
piece and in good conditions, he smiled. He was going to yell at
Curly, but then saw him in the seat with his back to him. Thinking
he was asleep, he decided to sneak up on him and scare the
daylights out of him.

Curly turned to open the door in case the
bear came after him. Then he saw Catwalk coming up the shoreline.
He couldn’t yell, but he had to warn him somehow. He quietly opened
the door and began waving him back. When Catwalk didn’t respond and
kept coming toward the plane, he yelled, “A bear!”

The bear turned toward the voice an let out
a snort. Catwalk stopped in his tracks. He barely saw the creature
on the other side of the plane. Curly jumped out of the plane and
moved toward Catwalk with his pistol pointed at the bear. The bear
ambled around the nose of the plane and looked at the two men. Then
it got a whiff of the frozen fish.

From fifty feet away, Catwalk and Curly
watched the bear move slowly toward the door. Even though it could
be deadly, they marveled at such a magnificent animal. The bear
stuck its nose in the door, then crawled into the plane and dug
through the tub of ice for the fish.

As they watched from behind a fallen log,
Curly whispered, “The son of a bitch is eating my fish.”

Catwalk, who also had his gun out, asked,
“You think we should shoot it?”

“
Our thirty-eights might
not stop it. What if we just piss him off?”

“
Let’s just leave it
alone. Maybe it’ll just eat a few fish and then run along. It can’t
eat the whole two hundred pounds of fish, can it?”

“
Damned if I know. If it
comes after us, then we start shooting.”

The bear sat in the plane for half an hour.
It grew dark and Catwalk didn’t relish the thought of walking back
to his plane in the dark of night, with grizzlies in the area.
Finally, the bear crawled out of the plane, looked at the two men
for a minute and then ambled up the shoreline. When it was out of
sight, Catwalk and Curly returned to the plane.

Curly reached the door first and shouted,
“Oh, God damn it!”

“
What’s wrong?”

“
That fucking bear crapped
in the plane.”

Catwalk got whiff of the bear’s mess and
couldn’t help but giggle. Then he started laughing out loud. Curly
said, “It ain’t funny.”

“
Yes, it is, Curly. It’s
hilarious—bear comes along and eats your fish, then poops in your
plane. I think it’s funny as hell.”

Curly looked at his friend and started
laughing himself. Before long both pilots were standing on the
shoreline of the Chilitna River, in the middle of the Alaskan
darkness laughing until they had tears in their eyes.

Once the hilarity of the situation passed,
they cleaned the mess out, but the odor remained. They decided to
walk back to Catwalk’s plane and spend the night. Curly said, “It
only ate a few of the fish. You think they’ll dock our pay?”

“
I don’t know. We’re about
to find out how they deal with something like this.”

The next morning they couldn’t takeoff
because the freezing rain continued. The heater kept them warm in
the plane while Catwalk read, but Curly was growing restless; he
clearly wanted to get back in the air. It was early afternoon
before the storm abated and they saw sunlight peeking through the
clouds.

“
It’s breaking up, Cat.
I’m going back to my plane.”

“
O.K., I’m going to wait
until I see—or smell—you go by, then I’ll take off.”

“
That ain’t
funny.”

Catwalk and Curly landed on Lake Hood two
hours later. When they told Hank about the missing fish, he merely
asked what happened. When they told him what the bear did in the
Stinson, he roared with laughter, then said, “Funny thing is, it
ain’t my plane. I just borrowed it from Dave Reynolds. Wait’ll he
hears that his plane smells of bear shit.”

Catwalk and Curly then headed for the bar to
get a beer.

They’d been in the bar for ten minutes, when
Hank walked in and spread the story about the bear around. The men
in the bar thought the tale was hilarious and ribbed Curly
unmercifully. A story like this, however, had its merits. Their
adventure had cemented their relations with the local gentry and
other pilots. They left the bar, not as newcomers, but as accepted
members of the working community.

By the time they left for dinner, Catwalk
was higher than he’d ever been in his life, but he felt wonderful.
While they waited for dinner, he explained to Curly, “Do you know
this is the first time in my life, I’ve been able to be one of the
boys; drink beer, laugh and let my hair down, without worrying
about someone making as issue of my presence. Curly, it feels
great.”

“
I’m glad for you, old
buddy. You deserve to enjoy yourself after all the crap you’ve been
through. Maybe we should stay up here for a while. Hell, there
ain’t nothing waiting for us back in the states.”

“
You’ve got a point there,
Curly.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Catwalk and Curly quickly learned the
hazards of flying the bush. They avoided major accidents, although
they had their share of minor incidents such as, broken oil lines,
frozen crankcase breathers, hard landings, broken skis, all of
which were part of bush flying. They constantly had to change their
planes from floats to wheels to skis, depending on the time of year
and their destination. When their planes were on skis, they spent a
lot of time thawing out frozen skis with boiling water. When they
were on floats, they concentrated on avoiding sandbars. On wheels,
they just had to find level places to land because in so many
remote locations graded runways didn’t exist.