Baby of the
big-lift helicopters helped stop Sage Fire
Amazing flying
machine and crew took center stage
By Pam
Morris
Express Staff Writer
The Sage
Fire brought the Columbia Helicopters traveling fire-fighting show to
town.
A Boeing Vertol 107 hovers over Penny Lake as its bucket dips 550 gallons of water from the pond during mop up operations on the Sage Fire.
Express photo by David N. Seelig
The show
was staged at the dusty end of Friedman Memorial Airport in Hailey. There,
a black-and-white flag bearing a skull and crossbones flew from a
truck-mounted pole. The stars and stripes hung fluttering behind a trailer
filled with parts and a grimy bookshelf full of helicopter repair manuals.
This was
backstage for an orange-and-white, tandem-rotor Boeing Vertol 107, the
workhorse helicopter of a handful on the fire, which started in Warm
Springs Canyon near Ketchum.
Columbia
Helicopters of Portland, Ore. owns it. The U.S. Forest Service contract
rate for it is $3,679 an hour.
It’s the
baby of the company’s heavy-lift fleet, which also includes Sikorsky
CH-54 and Boeing 234 Chinook helicopters. The company hires them out for
fire fighting, logging and construction.
On Friday,
the heli-crew stood by in Hailey while firefighters on the ground
completed mop-up operations on the fire, which charred more than 300
acres.
Two pilots
and three mechanics waited for another call for the machine to help douse
the sputtering embers of the fire, which kept federal and local fire crews
guessing for three days. Two other pilots and a mechanic were off-site
getting some rest.
The
helicopter and its crew had been working a fire near Provo, Utah, when it
was called to Ketchum.
They go
wherever they’re needed. Their summer began with spring fires in the
pines of northern Florida. From there, fire after fire drew the crew
north.
Pilots
Keith Saylor of Sacramento, Calif., and Joe Caughlin of Garden Valley,
Idaho, were two of four pilots who flew the Vertol during the Sage Fire.
Keith Saylor
Saylor said
they were surprised when they discovered that people all up and down Warm
Springs Road were watching them work.
"We’re
used to working in the backcountry where no one ever sees us," he
said.
The biggest
challenges to flying over a fire, Saylor said, are dealing with winds,
figuring out how to approach a drop and working to ensure the safety of
workers below — "trying to hit the spot," he said.
"All
of the pilots are trying to find the safest way into dip- and drop-sites,
and the safest way out," he said.
Joe Caughlin
Flying the
monster Vertol is a complicated process at best. Gauges, buttons and
switches litter the craft’s dash, and each pilot is responsible for
separate duties.
The
23,000-pound bird can travel at speeds up to 165 mph at 12,800 feet above
sea level. Its design stems from a model first made by Philadelphia, Pa.,
helicopter manufacturer, Vertol, which was bought in 1960 by aircraft
manufacturer Boeing Co. of Seattle. Columbia’s Boeing Vertol 107 entered
service in 1962.
It takes
two pilots to drive it. Two plexi-glass pop-eyes on either side of the
cockpit allow a pilot to lean out over the helicopter’s chassis to see a
bucket below that hangs by a cable. The bucket is about 7 feet high and
nearly as wide.
The
helicopter dwarfed tiny Penny Lake from which it drew water. It dipped 550
gallons of water into its 1,100-gallon bucket every 20 minutes or so. At
eight pounds per gallon, one bucket of water dumped the equivalent of a
big truck load of water in each pass over the blaze.
The
helicopter drew a crowd that marveled at the machine every time it
returned to the lake. It was no big deal for the pilots who said they
enjoyed being the center of attention.
"No
one flies a helicopter because it’s not fun," said pilot Keith
Saylor. "It’s the most fun you can have with your pants on."
They couldn’t
have done it alone, though.
Crew chief
Larry Dahlke of Olympia, Wash., and "fourth man," young Matt
Cole of Weippe, Idaho, said that as fires go, the Sage Fire was easy.
The crew
calls Dahlke "Mr. Columbia" because he’s been keeping the
company’s birds in the air for 21 years. He came to the company fresh
from five years in the U.S. Air Force.
The
soft-spoken mechanic likes fire work better than logging. He said it’s
easier on the machines and that the freedom of fighting fires is better
than the long months and close confines in the logging camps of Alaska.
Keeping
helicopters in shape to lift enormous buckets of water is a lot easier
than repairing them after they’ve been wrenched and twisted by
8,000-pound trees in directions the metal bodies were never intended to
go, he said.
Told that a
lot of people were really grateful to the heli-crew and the other crews
that put out the Sage Fire, Dahlke said quietly, "Well, that’s just
what we do."
The crew
wasn’t sure where the traveling show would go next. Their radio crackled
with voices that said there was still a fire near Provo and that another
was working itself into a frenzy near Susanville, Calif.
They knew
just one thing for sure: It might be a while before they are again center
stage in front of such an appreciative audience.