The beauty of North Idaho as seen from a Piper Cub seaplane.
Seaplane Flying in North Idaho
An ancient joke among pilots often goes like this: an old codger asks a newcomer to the world of aviation, “How do you end up with a million dollars in the airplane business?” Before the rookie answers, the high-timer blurts out with a laugh: “Start with two million dollars.”
In today’s market, a good, well-used, 1946 Piper J3 Cub (my choice for a seaplane trainer) goes for about twenty times that of the same plane when it sold new 60 years ago. However, the investment for my seaplane business wasn’t anywhere near two million, so I guess it’s safe that I won’t become a millionaire. It’s good that I make a fortune as a writer (okay, I do have retirement benefits from my career in Alaska), and that I enjoy sharing the wonderful world of seaplane flying, as the profits don’t exactly flow like the rapids of the Salmon River in this business.
After 25 years of flying small planes in the Alaska Bush, and operating a seaplane instruction company in Fairbanks during the 1980’s, North Idaho’s Hayden Lake seemed the perfect place to launch a business. Nearby Coeur d’Alene is a big tourist draw, Spokane International Airport is close, and with 55 lakes in our “backyard,” this little spot in the Bitterroot Mountains is ideal for Mountain Lakes Seaplanes. North Idaho is a lot like Alaska—clear rivers, deep lakes (Lake Pend Oreille is 1150 feet) full of fish and rugged mountains—but without the bugs and long winters. Plus, the locals seem receptive to a little yellow airplane splashing down on waters shared by boats, fishermen, and those crazy jet skis. Airplane enthusiasts Ted and Mary Herlihy, with a house perched on rocks overlooking the north end of Lake Pend Oreille, even welcome us to their ramp with cookies and lemonade.
Now in our fourth season, my wife Jill and I keep busy during the summer months with the flow of seaplane pilots. It’s out to the lake early in the morning for flying and ground training, which often lasts until the late-setting sun signals the end of daylight flying. In the winter, my mechanics and I pour over ‘Ol Yeller—the name tagged on our vintage Cub—to see if another summer of banging in the waves caused any excessive stress on the antique airplane. Students often taxi into docks, and a moose attacked a wing with his antlers one fall, but damage is usually cosmetic. However, an extra–hard landing by a student on a checkride this year (no, he didn’t pass) required removing all of the costly fabric for inspection and repair of the airframe. After thousands of dollars, and many long days in the shop later, ‘Ol Yeller will have a shiny new coat and will ready to take on another season of water flying. Also in the winter, we communicate with prospective students, market a list of used airplanes on our website—from a thirty thousand dollar Cub to a 1.6 million dollar Grumman Mallard—and manage vacation rentals on Hayden Lake.
Most of our customers at Mountain Lakes Seaplanes already have pilot licenses and want to add an FAA-required single engine sea rating to their certificate. Others need a flight review and others just want to see what water flying is all about. A rating generally takes about six hours of flight time and a couple of hours of in the classroom—in our case, the “classroom” is of lawn chairs grouped on a sandy beach at Hayden Lake. No fancy Power Point presentations here, but, on the edge of the classroom, the floatplane bobs in the clear water and surrounding mountains, making a perfect backdrop for groundwork.
Students vary from Jackson, a fourteen year aspiring professional pilot from Denver, who has flown with me for the past three years, to World War II veterans (local trivia: still-flying Bill Brooks, operator of Brooks Seaplane in Coeur d’ Alene, turns 88 next summer). With a goal of becoming either an airline or military pilot, Jackson is too young to qualify for a private pilot’s license, but displays flying skills beyond many rated pilots with whom I’ve flown. Being a Denver Broncos fan, Jackson was thrilled on our first flight together when we touched down on Lake Couer d’ Alene in front of John Elway’s summer house. The Super Bowl quarterback waved to the young pilot, making his intro flight in a seaplane even more special. The next summer, we were flying low over the deep waters of Lake Pend Oreille when a Navy submarine popped up to the surface. Last year, his family delivered him to a tranquil bay near Sandpoint in a rented houseboat on a warm, blue-sky afternoon. The combination door/window, open to the summer breeze, allowed unsurpassed views while explored the Pend Oreille River and the castles which decorate the rocky coastlines of the biggest lake in Idaho.
Hank, an eighty-two year old pilot from Seattle, spent years flying in Canada before a career with United Airlines as a captain in the big iron. He always wanted to fly seaplanes and his loving wife made that possible with a gift for a seaplane rating last summer. Instructing from the backseat—with Hank skillfully dancing the controls in the front seat—was as much as a learning experience for me as it was for him. The Captain and I did splash and go’s and step taxing on mountain lakes, then took a break by pulling ‘Ol Yeller onto the sand in front of the Beach House Restaurant in Sandpoint for lunch. After a great day of flying, Hank made the only boo boo of the day by cutting the power just a tad bit early when approaching the base at Hayden Lake. But, maybe the highly-experienced airplane pilot’s scan noticed something I hadn’t. Appearing from nowhere, two very friendly young ladies in itsy-bitsy bikinis waded out and pulled us to shore. Hank turned around and smiled at me, commenting, “I guess I was in the wrong business.” He beamed when he passed his checkride, then insisted I take his wife, also a pilot, for a flight around Hayden Lake to see the sights—including the once summer home of Bing Crosby.
Last summer, Jim Murphy, another retired airplane pilot ,and I splashed in on the new Bird Aviation Museum (http://www.birdaviationmuseum.com) near Sandpoint and witnessed Patty Wagstaff amaze the crowd with her always impressive show in her Extra 300S. Patty then screamed down the runway inverted and cut the ribbon for an impressive grand opening of the museum. Featured recently on 60 Minutes, the facility, accessible by car, boat, wheel plane and seaplane, overflows with transportation exhibits and inventions.
One pilot from Salt Lake City wanted to combine another mission with earning a seaplane rating. The owner of both a Cessna 182 and Maule airplanes, he’d visited the area previously. He now wanted to fly low and slow, enjoy the scenery, and check out the local real estate, while training. He got more than he bargained for—sure, he saw the incredible clear waters, mountains, forests, and a nice residential airpark with a grass airstrip, but he wasn’t prepared for the additional sights. On one particularly warm and sunny day, a female boater “flashed” us as we flew over her on the Pend Oreille River. I convinced him that was an unusual occurrence, but the next day, another Playmate–wannabe provided a distraction as we were taking off, with the “Full Monty” from her anchored boat on a mountain lake. The pilot asked me if that’s what I meant by the “spectacular scenery” we boast about on our webpage.
In addition to pilots from around the U.S., we’ve had guests from Australia, Canada, England, Israel, Ireland, and Switzerland—thanks to the World Wide Web and the word of mouth. Although seaplane rental rates reflect the extreme liability insurance costs, high maintenance expenses, and ever-increasing gas prices, it is still much cheaper to fly in our country than overseas.
James McManus, Executive Director of the Seaplane Pilots Association, estimates there are 35 thousand rated seaplane pilots and 15 thousand seaplanes in the United States. Many pilots who earn the seaplane rating don’t necessarily plan on flying seaplanes on a regular basis, but take the training for fun, or as an enjoyable way to get their FAA-required bi-annual flight review. However, some pilots start out that way, and then end up asking me to find them a seaplane to buy for their own.
There are days when I feel I shouldn’t be paid for all the fun my student and I are having exploring the beauty of this part of the country. Then there are the days—like when I spend ten hours working at the lake on a cold spring day for two hours of billable time, or when my patience wanes after repeatedly helping a twenty-thousand hour plus airline pilot find the rudder pedals (note: although highly-aviators, the skills required in flying small planes is much different than in airliners), or especially when I’m sure the guy up front has been hired to kill me (flight instructors can identify) where I’m ready to pull out a hammock on the beach and retire again.
What keeps me instructing in the little seaplane are the comments, the emails and the letters from pilots thanking me for the “time of their life,” or like the when the corporate jet pilot who told me he didn’t realize flying could be fun. Plus, it’s the support of friends who are always there to help when something breaks, or to provide a spot to beach, or to offer a cool drink on a hot day. So, I guess I’ll be back on the lake next summer, with a newly-recovered J3, looking forward to more adventure with new faces.
