The story behind the photo: Rescuing the food box

 

 

A "Gremlin Goose" delivers food to our crew

Ever since my Prescott friend, Chuck, talked non-stop about his Alaska visits, wanting me to go with him some day, and then later encouraging me to apply for a firefighting job there, I had hoped someday I would see this magical place. In 1980, I excitedly accepted a position on a tanker/helitak crew in Kenai, Alaska.

What an experience that turned out to be…and not at all in the way I expected. As a seasoned firefighter, I looked forward to a busy fire season, something that in the past Alaska news never seemed to lack in reporting. But that summer, it rained. A lot. Okay, coming from the desert southwest, weekly rain would be a lot. But here, it seemed like it rained nearly every single day. We were optimistic at first, but as the soggy weeks dragged on, morale plummeted. And then, after two months, at last, we got a fire call.

In past fire seasons, a fire call meant driving or flying by chartered airplanes and then bussed or driven to the fire scene. Here, with the fire being in a remote area west of Anchorage (trust me, there’s absolutely nothing in the way of civilization west of Anchorage), we were transported by our station’s contracted helicopter. I’d never flown for more than 15 minutes in a helicopter before, so the over 1-hour trip was quite unusual.

After a week on the line…I won’t get into the surreal experience of building fireline where tundra had the consistency of a wet sponge, or how there were times where the rain was steady enough that we huddled under ponchos to stay dry, only temporarily slowing the fire’s progress, before we went back to work.

That first week, we also subsisted on the standard C-rations (commonly called C-rats), which passed as food only for the very hungry. Fire Management officials promised a food drop “soon.” Rumor had it food boxes contained what constituted gourmet on the fireline, including fresh fruit and vegetables. My mouth salivated at the thought. I was ready for “soon” to be today.

Finally! The word came in that a food drop, via cargo plane, was on the way. My pal Dan and I had camp duty that day, and we heard the plane approach. We rushed to get a better view of the drop zone. There we stood, in great anticipation of REAL food, speculating on what goodies would be in those crates.

The plane came in low, and the cargo hatches opened, releasing two crates. One parachute opened. The other did not. The one with the open parachute landed relatively easy…bouncing a couple of times before resting. The other crate slammed into the ground with such force, it disappeared into the tundra.

What comes next is one of my favorite adventures in my book. If you’ve not read it, I hope you will!