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An Adventure To The Land Of Ice And Fire by Chris Wright 08-JUL-02 During the summer of 2001 a group of ten self-styled Flying Pirates flew four light aircraft on an epic voyage from southern England to the Faeroe Islands and back. We spent the following months wondering how to top that, with a trip that would be even more ambitious and would take us further afield. By Christmas, we had set ourselves the challenge of flying to Reykjavik in Iceland, the land where volcanoes, geysirs and glaciers contrast sharply with each other and offer an insight into the way the earth was (and is still being) formed. The "Pirates" are all private pilots. We met through the Internet based FLYER e?mail discussion list and developed a friendship and a thirst for ambitious touring adventures. Two of last year's group couldn’t join us as they were busy producing families, (congratulations to Alex Stillman and Adrian Beney) and this year the group comprised Julian Berry, Roger Stroud, Mike Turner, Frank Voeten, Nigel Webb, Richard Willcox and Chris Wright. The aircraft were a Piper PA28, a Cessna 310 and a Cessna 421 Golden Eagle. Planning The acquisition of detailed aeronautical charts for Iceland proved particularly protracted and problematic. We were advised that they were out of print and even authoritative sources advised us to use road maps! Eventually, Frank managed to get hold of the official VFR and IFR charts via some of his gliding contacts and the planning could begin in earnest. We were relieved to note that our GPS European database coverage already included Iceland.
We had already been on a ditching and maritime survival course and strongly recommend it for anybody considering a long "over-water" crossing. Getting out of an inverted cabin underwater (even in a swimming pool) is a sobering experience. Climbing into a life raft with immersion suit and inflated life jacket also needed some practice. There is a long list of mandatory safety and survival equipment for flights to the Faeroes and Iceland and the kit that that we carried is listed in the inset. The Point Of No Return calculations showed us that the endurance and range of both twin-engined aircraft would allow a good selection of alternate destinations if a diversion became necessary. However, for the single-engined aircraft, there would be a critical decision point whether to continue and we would need to recalculate this on the day, to take account of the actual conditions, in particular, the go and return ground speeds, which would be affected by the winds aloft. We selected the most favourable period for good weather, but even so, there were two very long legs (approximately 250 miles) to be flown over the ocean. In that part of the world, freezing levels can be very low even during the summer months and this meant that we could not be assured of VHF coverage, so staggered departures were agreed. Nigel's C421 would set off and relay the en-route and destination weather conditions before the Roger's PA28 reached the Point of No Return. Chris would set off last in the C310 and provide constant VHF radio contact and shepherd the PA28 over the long water sectors using 123.45 MHz, which is an approved frequency for North Atlantic air-to-air communications. Taking weather expectations and other commitments into account, we agreed the start date as Saturday 22 June 2002, and arranged to rendezvous at Wick on the Northern tip of Scotland at around 16:00, to allow for the different starting points and cruise speeds of the various aircraft. It would also allow us an overnight final analysis of the weather for the North Atlantic crossing. We made sure that we had a few days contingency in the schedule to allow for poor weather and other unforeseen delays. From Wick, we would route via the Faeroe Islands and on to Iceland. This would allow the PA28 an opportunity to refuel. At the same time, it would give us a chance to renew our acquaintance with the Faeroe Islands, a country that that left an indelible impression after our all-too-brief visit last year.
At Wick’s End En-route to Wick, we met plenty of aerial activity. The PFA rally at Cranfield was in full flow and the good weather had brought out parachutists all over the country. Despite avoiding the notified dropping areas, Air Traffic gave several reports of "unidentified traffic at 12 o'clock, probably a parachutist". We heard one ground station tell an American Airlines plane to "contact Reykjavik on 7532" Now we felt really on our way. Arriving at Dundee for lunch, Chris and Julian were greeted by the fire and rescue services on full practice drill. Over lunch in Dundee, we got news that Roger's PA28 had "gone tech" (the group keys had gone AWOL) and a substitute aircraft was being used; the same aircraft that Roger and Richard had flown to Vágar last year.
Last year, we had real concerns about freezing levels and poor visibility. This year, the forecast was a lot more favourable. We found a bar where we could study our weather maps and synoptic charts and finalise our route plans. One scurvy knave revealed that he had, in true piratical style, left one of the Jeppesen trip kits back at home under the goldfish bowl (naturally, the one that he had remembered was “his”). Roger and Richard had some concerns about their plane's climb rate and fuel consumption on the journey up to Wick. Our discussions about air tests and decision criteria kept us focussed on the safety critical issues all evening. Wick has very basic accommodation and restaurants. Unfortunately, we cannot recommend anything for the “Gourmet Guide”. In our hotel, some of the rooms had no windows and barely space to swing a parrot. Nigel improved our group's credit rating by wearing his "jim-jams" (four stripe epaulettes) for breakfast and for check-out. Unfortunately, it would seem that credit card technology is still a thing of the future there.
Abandon Trip? In the morning, the weather was good, with clear skies and only light winds. Nigel departed Wick first in the Cessna 421, with Mike and Frank on board. They elected to fly at FL105, to ensure reasonable VHF coverage and a smooth ride above the clouds. Scottish Information activated their flight-plan, gave them a squawk, and made them feel generally comfortable with the idea of flying over lots of cold water. Second away, after normal pre-flight checks, were Roger with Richard. However, the PA28 failed to develop full power on the take-off roll and they aborted halfway down the runway. Together with Andy Bruce and the crew from the C310, they tried some power tests for 30 minutes. There was no rich-running or any obvious fuel blockage, but they decided not to take the chance over the sea. A good decision, albeit a disappointing one. The PA28 was pushed back into the hangar, and the boys joined Chris and Julian in the C310 (which had contingent payload to spare for such an eventuality) departing, some 45 minutes after the Golden Eagle. Climbing out over the Old Man of Hoy and off into the blue, conditions were otherwise ideal. Scottish Information amended the FPL for the C310 to adjust the number of POB and cancel the FPL for the PA28. Vágar is a little over one hour away for both the twins, a far cry from our trip last year in which the Beech Baron was the largest participant. As Nigel in the C421 prepared to descend VFR down to FL45 to remain under the Reykjavik Atlantic TMA (Class A), which starts at the edge of the UK FIR boundary, Scottish arranged an IFR clearance to Vágar, with a procedural arrival for the Localiser DME approach down a fjord to the runway.
The Return of the Faeroes As the Golden Eagle approached Vágar, the FISO gave a weather update. The cloud base was at a similar height to the surrounding rocks in the fjord. This was relayed to the rest of the gang, about 1 hour behind in the C310. The localiser approach went well and after little more than 1:15 in the air, the first crew were on the ground. In the C310, Chris elected the scenic arrival and let down over water South of the NDB AB, the nearest NavAid in the Faeroe Islands with a designated range of 100 nm and then via the ever-popular Waterfall arrival to Vágar. Like all of the Faeroe Islands, Vágar is a rugged, bleak and imposing rock that projects nearly vertically out of the water to more than a thousand feet. The fjord leading to the airfield, which is at 6204N 00717W with an elevation of 280ft, has a long freshwater lake spilling into the Atlantic from between a craggy gap in the surrounding hills, forming a waterfall down to the open sea. The welcome was very friendly (again) and the FISO in the control tower, remembered us clearly from last year. We had a chat and filed our IFR flight plans to Höfn on the South East corner of Iceland. After refuelling, we ate lunch and watched a scheduled service return to Stansted empty except for the repositioning crew. It was a strange feeling realizing that last year this was the pinnacle of our expedition. This year it was only our gateway to Iceland. The weather at Höfn looked OK, but with the FL45 level restriction for VFR flights north of the Faeroes, we appreciated the luxury of being able to fly IFR at a higher level and remain in VHF contact with somebody on the ground.
Welcome to Iceland
During the circle to land procedure, through the mist, the C310 had an otherwise excellent view of the glaciers, which form part of Vatnajökull. This was the location for some of the filming sequences in the latest James Bond film and our first taste of the huge scale of the glacier fields. Vatnajökull is not only the largest glacier field in Iceland, but larger than all of Europe's other glaciers combined. It is 3,200 feet thick and covers an area of 3,200 square miles. In 1995, huge fissures appeared on the glacier's surface and Iceland's newest volcano erupted through the ice, sending smoke and ash tens of thousands of feet into the sky whilst millions of gallons of water melted from the ice. Just another day in Iceland. Höfn has the characteristic of making certain UK fields like Enstone seem sophisticated. Like many airfields in Iceland, the runway at Höfn is made from a layer of compacted Basalt, covered and sealed with oil. This has the benefit of exploiting Iceland's only domestic stone, as well as providing an ice-resistant surface. It does look a bit basic though! We walked to the terminal, where we were clearly the first international arrival for some time! The customs man arrived in his car, just as the C310 landed, and stamped our passports. The Captain’s log shows that the date was the 23rd of June, but thanks to the officer's unfamiliarity with his own stamp, for some of us, and our passports, that day will always be remembered as June 32nd. We thought it would hurt his feelings to tell him. We spent the night in the Foss Hotel Höfn, which was totally empty it seemed, except for us, Severine a French Maid (ooh err) and Sven the Swedish bar tender, who regarded Iceland as the place to go to find solace and to heal a broken heart. Our crappy attempts at Icelandic rapidly gave way to less-crappy attempts at French and Swedish. Enormous amounts of expensive beer and food were consumed, as we watched and waited for the sun to set over the fjord. The peanut order with the drinks seemed to take a long time arriving. It turned out that the hotel had none and they had slipped out quietly on their bike to the next village, two hours away, to restock. We still waited for sunset. It was a long wait. It may well be that the sun did set, but you would never have noticed. It remained bright all night, and the helpful hoteliers had provided lightweight curtains for each of our rooms to help us to appreciate this fact!
Fog, Volcanoes and Ice In the morning, the sun had gone, and so had the fjord. In fact, it was now very foggy, and large amounts of rain were falling from all angles. Reykjavik, our ultimate destination lay some 250 miles to the west. Undeterred, we filed two more IFR flight plans. The routings were over terrain that was probably more inhospitable than the Atlantic sea crossings, over high altitude glaciers, volcanoes and larva fields. We climbed along the Southern shores of Iceland up through the cloud into brilliant sunshine above the MSA, before turning inland for a direct routing. The trip to Reykjavik (BIRK) from Höfn, took just over one hour.
Landing at Reykjavik felt like just as big a milestone for us, as landing at Vágar had done, a year ago. Half way across the Atlantic, we were rubbing shoulders with ferry pilots bringing all sorts of aircraft across the ocean in one direction or another. The place they all hang out is "Flight Services Limited", where the FBO agent is a very personable individual and a veritable fountain (or should that be geysir?) of information on all things Atlantic Flying. Once both planes had landed, we all “taxied” off to collect our 9-seater super minibus. In the event, it turned out to be a thoroughly tired old American piece of junk with wobbly wheels and bent prop shaft, but it added to our piratical sense of adventure. AVIS agreed and fitted new tyres all round while we celebrated our arrival - at the local McDonalds - apparently the most expensive in the world!
By Land, Air and Sea We booked into the Oak Hotel, near the central shopping area and then we sought some R&R at the Blue Lagoon, a natural geothermal spa where high temperature seawater is used to generate hot water for the local Su?urnes district and to generate electricity in the nearby Svartsengi power station. Over 90 percent of the island is heated by geothermal gas and almost every community has its own naturally heated swimming pool. Hot springs can be found in abundance and the sub-glacial volcanoes provide the country with hydroelectric power. The piping hot water and white silica mud at the Blue Lagoon, combined with the blue green algae may not sound appealing, but it gives the lagoon its characteristic light blue colour and according to the promotional material, claims therapeutic effects on the skin. Mike found that the lycra swimming shorts he hired were a couple of sizes too small, or according to him, that his bare essentials could not be overstated. Six Pirates stripped off and enjoyed the overpowering smell of sulphur, whilst Roger took photographs that may be used later in evidence. Whale watching is quite a thing in Iceland.... Suitably refreshed, we found an accommodating Chinese restaurant in the centre of town (Icelandic cuisine is not particularly special, if you've already enjoyed Puffin and Blubber) and stuffed ourselves. The waitress was dumbstruck when we left a tip. In fact, she refused to accept one at first. “Things are too expensive already in Iceland” she told us. “People will think you are mad!” Later, we somehow managed to find ourselves in a small side street bar, where a sea dog called Jacob was cursing the results of World Cup. It turned out he was a second mate and spent the whole evening reminiscing about his times in Grimsby, Aberdeen and Glasgow. We rounded off the evening, which never got dark, with an ice cream from a street vendor at midnight. By the end of the first night, we were all using our Icelandic surnames, created by taking your father’s first name and adding “son” (or “dottir,” depending on your gender). We found a local eating-house cum bar called Ruby Tuesday, which became quite a regular venue for us during the week. It was very close to our hotel and provided a good place to plan the next day's excursions whilst validating the reputation of the beautiful local women. Everywhere in Iceland was very expensive compared with the UK, and we took the opportunity to use the swag from last year's article in a Steak House. During the following days, we set out to see Iceland by land, air and sea. We took a boat to go whale watching, where one of the gang bravely fought off seasickness whilst being taunted by the rest of us. We did spot several Minky whales, although the sightings were only momentary. A classic case of marketing hype exceeding reality. By road, we visited geothermal springs, where steam rises out of lakes and fields despite otherwise modest temperatures. You could be forgiven for thinking that an underground steam pipe had burst. We went on to explore Keri?, a volcano where the crater has been filled with a lake and today it looks very docile. How different it must have been at the time it was being formed. The larva fields and volcanic panorama have a moon-like resemblance. In fact, NASA used the variegated and barren terrain of Iceland for the Apollo lunar training programme. There are only a few roads in Iceland and the main highways are well maintained. The distances between places are comparatively large. Well, there is no real reason to bunch up close, except to stay off the glaciers. However, as we found out, once you venture off the main highways, the state of repair is variable. We met several working parties repairing roads and we were forced off road completely to get past them. We believe that road repair is a summer occupation!
The Great Geysir has been somewhat dormant in recent decades, although it has been coaxed into a performance with soap on special occasions. When the Geysir does erupt, it explodes a jet of steam and boiling water 200 feet into the air. Far more reliable, is nearby Strokkur geysir (“the churn”), which spouts a 60-100 foot jet about once every 7-10 minutes. Also nearby is Gull Foss or “Golden Falls" on the river Hvítá. With a 105-foot double-cascade, it is Europe’s most powerful waterfall by far. We saw it on a sunny day and, the mist clouds surrounding the thundering falls were filled with dozens of shimmering rainbows. At one time, the government planned to replace the falls with a hydroelectric power plant, but a local farmer’s daughter threatened to cast herself over them unless the plans was scrapped. The nation overwhelmingly supported her and the government purchased the land for the national park that is there today. On the Wednesday, the weather was clear and we took the C421 and the C310 to explore Iceland by air. There is an abundance of regional airfields to explore in some of the world's most dramatic scenery. All flights in Iceland require an FPL whether VFR or IFR and our preparations were smoothed by the exemplary briefing at Flight Services. Through the crystal clear arctic air, we had a magnificent view of Mount Hekla, an imposing volcano reaching up to nearly 5,000ft. It is normally covered in cloud all year round, so we had a rare opportunity to see all of it. Iceland experiences a major volcanic event once every 5 years and the most active volcano is Mount Hekla. In 1963, local fisherman noticed a black column of smoke as a fresh volcano broke through the waves, creating the youngest island, Surtsey, which is part of the Vestmannaeyjar Islands. About 5,000 years ago, most of the Vestmannaeyjar group were created in the same way, propelled to the surface in a mixture of fire, ash and steam. They are rugged and beautiful islands, with sheer cliffs and a huge bird population (over 10 million puffins and guillemots). The largest island, Heimey, hosts the only populated town and the airstrip (BIVM) that services the Vestmannaeyjar islands. This was our next port of call. The approach is not wholly unlike St Mary’s with huge rocks, more like small islands, obstructing both final and missed approaches. This was not the last time we were going to meet such a phenomena!. In 1973 a nearby volcano called Eldfell erupted virtually inside the town and nearly engulfed it in larva. Against all odds, in a struggle against the elemental force of nature, most of the town was saved when fire fighters used jets of water to cool the larva, creating a damn against the red-hot stream. The aerial activity was intense (and tense) too with Chinooks operating training exercises continuously on a conflicting runway, carrying huge under-slung loads to the rocky coast and back, then hovering, with the load at only a few feet, for lengthy periods. ATC gave some interesting clearances that would have had us back tracking and lining up whilst other traffic was cleared for take off on the same runway! The scheduled services seemed to be teeming with schoolchildren. Over lunch, we took our revenge on the guillemots, quite a local delicacy. It is clear that like the Faeroe Islands, anything that can be, is eaten.
Continuing up to the northwest corner of Iceland, Ísafjörr?ur (BIIS), was the next point of call for the C310. It is a field that nestles at the end of a fjord that itself is a branch off a larger fjord. The instrument approach finishes in the larger fjord. If you are not visual by then, you don’t attempt to go further. The location is very prone to sea fog and they had been fog bound earlier in the day, but we had kept a watch on the METAR/TAFs, which were efficiently provided by all the staffed airports that we used. We were required to sign for them to verify that we had been (weather) briefed. However, good reports and a quick phone call from Vestmannaeyjar confirmed that it was worthwhile to try a visit. As we approached, down the small fjord, with steep edges of volcanic rock to each side, reaching up to nearly 3,000 feet there was enough room for a “180” turn if necessary, but not a great deal to spare. We could see the end of the fjord, a dead end! Then, tucked into the far end of this cul-de-sac was the runway. The Ísafjörr?ur FISO confirmed the joining information and we hung on for the approach of our lives.
The departure from Ísafjörr?ur has lead-out lights for night time operations. These are positioned at increasing heights up the side of the hill to help departing aircraft avoid it!
Homeward Bound On Friday morning, the time came for us to make tracks. With our weather contingency time unused, we decided to stop off for a night on the Faroes on the way back. The weather conditions required another IFR flight back, but at least we had a 40kts tailwind. The C421 flew at FL210 to Vágar, back down the fjord on the localiser, this time, right down to minima, before spotting the runway and its lead-in strobes. The C310 flew at FL110, and after aborting the cloud break procedure, followed the C421 onto the localiser to land on runway 31. We noticed a lot of building and engineering work on our way to the hotel in Tórshavn, the capital city, including a tunnel, which will link airport island with main island, putting an end to the quaint baby ro-ro ferry that has given such long and faithful service. The evening was spent in the "Café Natúr", which we fondly recalled from our previous visit. Our on-road dead reckoning navigation left us less than 10 meters from the bar entrance, but in a cul-de-sac and stuck in a local front garden. We had to reverse up extremely narrow, twisting steep back street hills to regain our dignity and get to the bar. We stayed at the Hotel Föroyar, which has a panoramic restaurant overlooking Tórshavn city and harbour. A perfect conclusion to our adventurous trip. On the Saturday, we had planned to stop over in Oban (FLYER airfield of the year 2001), but despite a fine weather VFR departure from Vágar, (where we got see the waterfall again) the weather in the UK wasn’t too good, so alternate plans were activated. Nigel took the C421 back to Wick to drop off Roger and Richard before heading on to Cambridge. The PA28, had been thoroughly flight-tested and leapt into the air and flew to Rougham where Richard was dropped off. Roger then made for Bournemouth where he had started. Chris and Julian flew direct from Vágar to Blackbushe. Another memorable trip, made by a group of like minded Pirates from all over England, which was more than equal to last years trip. In fact, Roger so loved the North he has now taken up permanent residence in Scotland. Plans for next year's adventure are still in the melting pot, but like Arnie, you can be sure that "we'll be back".
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© All photographs and text copyright of members of the Flying Pirates Team.
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