Like the
canoe, the snowshoe and the snowmobile, the pontoon-equipped
bush plane is recognized around the world as a uniquely Canadian
mode of travel. Only in this nation have float planes played
such an important role in backwoods transportation, largely
because so much of our national land mass is covered by lakes
and forest. Some of the best fishing and hunting camps in Canada
are only accessible by float plane. And most of us remember
taking our first heart-pounding ride in a beaten-up, noisy old
float plane as vividly as we remember catching our first trout.
It’s hard to pick the best bush plane, because each one
has its own epic tale to tell, but here are five models we can
safely classify as all-time favourites.
NOORDUYN NORSEMAN
In Montreal in 1933, a Dutch-born engineer named Bob Noorduyn
got together with some Quebec bush pilots and asked for their
opinions on what would make the perfect Canadian bush plane.
Out of that brainstorm resulted the Noorduyn Norseman, which
debuted in 1935. Built from tubular steel, spruce and canvas,
the float-equipped Norseman was as homely as an old milk cow.
But it was designed for work, not play, and it soon became the
most popular airplane in bush country.
One of the employees in Noorduyn’s
factory in Cartierville, Quebec, was a young man named Mel Linnell.
“In fact, I was the first guy he hired,” recalls
Linnell, now 81 and living in Kenora, Ontario. “I wanted
to be a pilot, but of course I was young and had no money for
flying lessons, so building airplanes seemed like the next best
thing.” As a result, Linnell got to know the Norseman
from the inside out.
Production kicked into high gear
when the U.S. air force ordered hundreds of Norsemans for use
as light troop carriers during the Second World War (it was
a Norseman, in fact, that mysteriously disappeared over the
English Channel in 1944 with big-band leader Glenn Miller on
board). After the war, Linnell moved to Estevan, Saskatchewan,
where he finally learned to fly—in a Piper Cub. “I
went to Vancouver and did some flying, then moved to Kenora,”
he says. “I was always moving around, looking for work.”
Legendary outfitter Barney Lamm
(of Barney’s Ball Lake Lodge fame) hired Linnell as a
bush pilot. And Linnell’s heart jumped when he saw what
Lamm wanted him to fly—a Noorduyn Norseman, no doubt one
of the very planes he’d built with his own hands. “During
the 1950s I flew thousands of hours on the Norseman,”
he says. “It was built for rough use in the bush. There
was an escape hatch in the roof, so you could squeeze out if
you crashed.”
And it was a workhorse of a plane,
with two large cargo doors at the back. Linnell tells of how
he once carried five moose and a hunter, and of the time when
he “jammed” in 19 people—well beyond the recommended
eight. “Your payload was supposed to be about 1,800 pounds,
but you never knew your exact weight,” he says. “You’d
look at the floats to see how deep they were, and you’d
look at the wind and the temperature. We didn’t have instruments
like they do now. You knew the airplane, and you had a feeling
for what she’d do.”
On a cold, windy day, a Norseman
would take off quickly. But in the hot days of summer, fully
loaded, it required more than a kilometre of open water. “On
a long takeoff you could overheat the engine and crack a cylinder,”
says Linnell, “and if that happened as you were climbing
out, you were in a lot of trouble.” In his long career,
Linnell had several engine failures, but he always managed to
land the plane safely. “I followed the water. I was always
thinking about what I’d do if she quit.”
Years later, one of Lamm’s
planes was purchased by the Ontario town of Red Lake—“The
Norseman Capital of the World”—and now sits on a
pylon by the waterfront. Indeed, of the 903 Norsemans built,
only 20 or so are still flying. And of those, many fly into
Red Lake for the annual Norseman Festival, the unique bawl of
their Wasp engines announcing the arrival of the rarest of Canada’s
legendary bush planes. 
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