Bombing the blazes
out of the blazes
Tanker pilots put
it where it counts
"The
wings (of the C119) kept falling off." Literally "departing the
plane." —Gordon Koenig, tanker pilot
By PETER
BOLTZ
Express Staff Writer
Gordon
Koenig may or may not have been playing his guitar while he was on standby
for Neptune Aviation in Missoula on Wednesday.
But there
is no doubt he had a purple guitar pick with him — his good luck piece.
At 11:30
that morning, a voice came over the loudspeaker and ordered the crew to
load his Lockheed P2V with 11 tons of retardant and for Koenig, 51, and
his copilot Paul Yedinak, 49, to take off within 15 minutes.
Pilot
Gordon Koenig dive bombs the Warm Springs Canyon ridge with a load of fire retardant during last week’s wild fire.
Express photo by Willy Cook
At the same
time, someone was rushing a "resource order" to Koenig that
would tell him where he was going and who he would need to call on the
radio once in range of the fire.
As stirring
as that sounds, Koenig downplayed the call to action. "It’s not
that dramatic," he said.
He also
downplayed the danger in his work with a matter-of-fact manner to his
answers during an interview on Friday while he was on standby in Missoula.
He said
that during the 1990s, the seasonal average of fatal crashes of air
tankers was one in 40.
"There
were 40 air tankers in service during the 1990s, and we were losing one
air crew a year."
Gordon Koenig
In the 12
years he’s been flying tankers to battle wildfires, Koenig has lost 14
friends to tanker crashes.
But then
again, he had his lucky guitar pick with him, which he also downplayed as
something he’s had for years.
"It’s
something you latch onto. I just feel uncomfortable without it."
He had high
praise for his airplane, a P2V-5 built in 1952, modified by adding tanks
for retardant that empty through six bomb bay doors, which can be opened
one at a time. His P2V can therefore make several drops, rationing the
2,350 gallons of retardant.
The plane
is powered by two radial engines and two jet engines, but the jets are
only used in takeoff and climbing.
The radial
engines are the "most powerful made," he said, but since the
plane, originally built to patrol shorelines for submarines, is
"extremely heavy," the jets were put onto the P2V-5s as an
afterthought.
Despite the
age and weight of the plane, Koenig said, it is "built like a bridge,
is extremely tough and has enormous power."
Given the
choice of any plane to fly, he said the P2V-5 was his No. 1.
"I am
very happy with it, knowing it won’t fall apart on me," he said.
"And it climbs like a homesick angel."
Airplanes
falling apart in flight is a real concern for tanker pilots.
"This
kind of work is hard on airplanes," he said. "They take a
beating each time they go out."
Koenig
described the turbulence around a fire as if it were water that slammed
the aircraft around instead of just air. But the air buffets tankers with
sufficient force to blow an engine or the hydraulics, or to tear a plane
apart.
One
aircraft, the Fairchild C119 (the Flying Boxcar), is no longer used as a
tanker, he said. "The wings kept falling off." Literally
"departing the plane," as he put it.
He said the
P2V-5 was built with an alloy no longer used. Newer planes that are used
as tankers, like the Lockheed P3 Orion and the Lockheed Martin C130
Hercules, are more prone to metal corrosion and cracking in the wing spars
because the alloy isn’t as strong.
Koenig paid
homage to the firefighters on the ground, saying, "We don’t put
fires out on our own. We’re there for just a brief time - we’re there
to support the ground troops on the line."
For
everyone’s safety, an "aerial lead plane" flies low to a fire
zone to see where the fire and the firefighters are. The pilot of that
plane shows tanker pilots the way in and out of their target, alerting
them to ground hazards, such as power lines, and controlling traffic with
other planes and helicopters.
Knowing the
entry and exit route over a target is especially important for flying
through smoke, which, Koenig said, is like a thick fog. You can’t see
anything, he said, and you don’t want to be surprised by a mountainside
once you’re through.
Not at the
120 knots Koenig was flying on Wednesday. That speed is equivalent to 180
mph on the ground.
Dropping
the retardant, a mixture of disodium phosphate (a fertilizer), water and
iron oxide (for coloring), is the critical moment for a tanker.
"We
want to put it where the guys need it," Koenig said. "We don’t
risk our necks to get it there to miss the target, so we fly low. The
optimal altitude is 150 feet. Any higher, and it’s difficult to predict
where the retardant will go."
If he drops
his entire load at once, his P2V-5 becomes 11 tons lighter in seconds
giving the plane "tremendous lift."
"You
levitate, almost, when you drop so many tons," he said.
The
retardant, described as a sludge or mud, slams into the ground with enough
force to kill or gravely injure firefighters if they should accidentally
be underneath.
If a tanker
is empty after a drop, the pilot is directed to an airport for refilling,
and he goes through the routine of finding a safe way in and out of his
drop zone again.
Or he may
be directed to another fire.
Koenig said
he has fought as many as 12 fires in one day, which, because of Federal
Aviation Administration rules, cannot exceed 8 hours of flying time.
He said he
couldn’t estimate the average number of dispatches he gets in a season
"since it varies so widely," but he remembers last year as his
busiest.
He said he
dropped 985,000 gallons of retardant. This translates into 402 times he
bombed a fire. Without his log book in front of him he couldn’t exactly
say how many dispatches this equalled, but he guessed 150.
Basically,
the number of dispatches equal the number of different fires a tanker is
called to fight.
"I
plead insanity," he joked. "But it is very interesting and
challenging. We get to use a lot of skills most pilots don’t."
He and
Yedinak put in 6½ hours on the Sage Fire, so when a dispatch came in for
them to help battle a fire near Elko, they almost had to go test their
chances one more time on Wednesday.
But night
was falling, Koenig said, and FAA rules don’t allow tankers to fight
fires at night. So he and Yedinak went home, and by Friday he was once
again on standby.
He and his
purple guitar pick.