Three Days in Maine: Part 1 By Jim Knights

EAA CHAPTER 857 BUTLER COUNTY-KBTP 10

SUNDAY, JUNE 15, 2025

VOLUME 25 ISSUE 270

Airplane Single Engine Sea. Those words now appear in the “Ratings” block of my brand-new Temporary Airman Certificate.

After acquiring a 1949 Stinson 108-3 last year, I was re-introduced to the tailwheel world (I once owned a Taylorcraft BC12D) and the need for quick footwork during takeoffs and landings, especially with crosswinds. This last is most especially true with the Stinson 108-3 “Flying Station Wagon” due to its prominent vertical stabilizer, the largest of the 108 series. The airplane has a true talent for attracting crosswinds.

To clarify, the FAA considers all aircraft that operate on water to be the same class, “seaplanes”, whether they are monohulled flying boats, floatplanes (landplanes reconfigured with twin floats) or amphibians. In this article I use the terms “seaplane” and “floatplane” interchangeably, mostly because I’m lazy.

The various aviation magazines that appeared in my mailbox over the following winter included a number of articles on seaplanes. Often mentioned was that the skills a pilot learns in handling a seaplane under different wind and water conditions transfer directly to operating landplanes. Since I desperately wanted to avoid ground looping my Stinson (with me in it), my interest was piqued. Also, the overall idea of flying on and off the water was just intriguing. I began looking into the ASES rating. For instance, where could I go for training?

A number of years ago, I’d visited famous Lake Hood in Anchorage, Alaska. Lake Hood is the largest seaplane base in the world and, I have to say, it’s very impressive. Hundreds of airplanes on floats line the shores and they come and go constantly. Though earning the rating there would certainly be memorable, everything costs something. The “something” in this case, aside from the airline fare, was that Lake Hood is adjacent to Ted Stevens Anchorage International Airport. So, already busy airspace can become busier still, plus tower communications are mandatory. All of this adds up to additional task loading for a pilot learning to operate a seaplane. I decided against it.

Fortunately, I traverse the length of New England at least four times a year. My wife and I own a cottage on Prince Edward Island, Canada, that we rent to tourists. Every spring I drive up to PEI to open the cottage and return in the fall to close it. By the time I’d gotten this far in my planning process, I’d already joined the Seaplane Pilots Association (https://seaplanepilotsassociation.org/). The SPA maintains a Seaplane Flight School Directory, which is available to members and non-members. I began the search for a school somewhere along my route through New England.

After a few false starts, I “landed” on Central Maine Aviation (http://www.centralmaineaviation.com/) located west of Bangor, Maine. I drive past Bangor every year, so their location was great. On top of that, the owner, Charlie Surprenant (usual pronunciation ) actually answered my email. Charlie, whose ancestors were from Quebec where he still has family, is a CFII and a Designated Pilot Examiner for both wheels and floats. He operates a flight school out of Pittsfield Municipal Airport (2B7), Pittsfield, Maine, with help from his CFII daughter, Erin Coulter. I asked Charlie if I could stop by enroute to PEI mid-May. Alas, he explained his Cessna 172 Hawk XP II remains on wheels until June, when he switches it to floats for the summer. Not a problem, since I’d pass by again in mid-June.

By the way, this was to be my combined birthday and Father’s Day gift.

Charlie explained he would be my CFI as well as my examiner. However, since he was to be my examiner, he couldn’t legally endorse me for the check ride. That would be handled by Erin.

Years earlier, Charlie had transplanted from Massachusetts to a 30- acre farm on Big Indian Pond near Saint Alban’s, Maine. In addition to his home and barn (and four horses), he has a cabin in a private location on the shore for his seaplane students. A scant few yards from the cabin is a dock with the Cessna floating at the end, so the place does double duty as a base of operations. Perfect. We set a start date of June 15th, Father’s Day.

To prepare, I read the seaplane section of the FAA’s Seaplane, Skiplane, Float/Ski-Equipped Helicopter Operations Handbook. As you can
probably tell from the title, it was uninspiring. It reads like it was written by a government bureaucrat. Go figure. Fortunately, I later read in the SPA’s Water Flying Magazine about Burke Mees’ Notes of a Seaplane Instructor: An Instructional Guide to Seaplane Flying. That was much better, but, as I later discovered, far too involved on subjects such as “sailing” a floatplane on the water – at least too involved for a new seaplane pilot.

I’d never been to that part of Maine before, but I knew I was getting close when I saw a float-equipped Cessna cross my path at about 1,000 feet. Fifteen minutes later I arrived at Charlie’s “camp” (his word) just as he was about to give a check ride. It was Saturday, June 14th. After a quick “hello” he explained that he and Erin had scheduling issues, so she would be my CFI the following day, the first day of my instruction, but she wouldn’t be available later to endorse me for the check ride. There was a new plan: After I flew with Charlie, we’d fly to a nearby seaplane base where I’d be evaluated by another instructor who would, if all went well, endorse me for the check ride. That was to change.

A few minutes after Charlie and his student departed, Erin and a student she was endorsing arrived at the dock behind the yoke of her Cessna 180 floatplane. We met and exchanged backgrounds. Erin had been a naval aviator who had flown F-18s and F-35s and had also been an instructor pilot. She had transferred to the Maine Air National Guard where she is a major and flies the KC-135 aerial tanker. As if she weren’t busy enough flying as a CFII and with the Air Guard, she is also a first officer with an airline. After leaving the Navy, Erin bought a house on Big Indian Pond directly opposite her parents. You can stand on Charlie’s dock, look across the Big Indian Pond, and see Erin’s docked 180 staring back at you.

By the way, they call it a pond, but looks like a lake to me. Actually, Erin told me it goes by several names. The small town of Saint Alban’s sits at the southern tip of the pond/lake, whatever it’s called.

After about 45 minutes, Charlie returned with a newly-minted seaplane pilot, who had a bit of an issue with docking the Cessna. Yes, docking can be problematical. More on that later. Charlie invited me to dinner along with Erin and the northeast’s newest seaplane pilot at a local pub/brewery owned by friends. We were later joined by one of her friends, also an Air Guard KC-135 driver who commutes from Mississippi for her Guard duty in Maine.

That night I spent the first of four nights in the cabin. As you can see from the photos, it’s only yards from the shore. The setting is idyllic. Like most of central and northern Maine, Saint Alban’s is quite rural and while there are other houses on the large pond, there aren’t many. The night was very still with the silence being broken only by the occasional yodels of the loons or a distant splash.

The next morning, I rose to see Big Indian Pond enshrouded in fog. The forecast, however, was good and the fog rose and dissipated in a couple of hours. That wasn’t a problem, because this being Sunday and Father’s Day, Charlie, who had another check ride to administer, didn’t want us to start flying earlier than 10AM. Noise abatement and being a good neighbor were high on his list. During my training, he was constantly cautioning me to avoid flying over houses and cottages. “Fly over where the beavers live, not the people.”

Eventually, Charlie and his next ASES candidate appeared, as did Erin. Every evening or during inclement weather, Charlie pulls the Cessna out of the water on a pair of rails. He and Erin got it back into the water and re- positioned at the end of the dock, then he and his student began the oral part of the practical while Erin gave me a pre- flight briefing.

Never having flown a floatplane, I really had no idea what to expect. Much of what happens in seaplanes is contrary to how we operate wheeled airplanes. For example, at Charlie’s dock, you can only board from the pilot’s side. As the CFI, Erin got in first and took the right seat, but did not buckle in. Both pilots remain “detached” from the airplane – no seatbelts or headsets until it’s away from the dock and the engine is started. This is a safety measure so you can quickly evacuate if something untoward happens. While that was unlikely on the pond’s placid waters, seaplanes operate in many different environments, so it’s smart to develop safe habits.

EAA CHAPTER 857 BUTLER COUNTY-KBTP 11

SUNDAY, JUNE 15, 2025 VOLUME 25 ISSUE 270

During my stay, I was relieved to have flyable weather and fairly light winds. For the three days prior to my arrival, the other students were challenged by considerable wind. On this day, the wind was from the south, along the length of long and narrow Big Indian Pond. It remained that way during my time there. That made things a little easier on me.

Preflighting can be interesting. Seaplane floats are legally required to have at least four independent compartments, so if one floods the others will keep it afloat. These compartments are not watertight. The floats on Charlie’s Cessna have seven compartments for a total of 14, all of which must be pumped by hand during preflight. Some compartments will have more water than others. Be sure to aim downwind. While you’re doing that, you’re checking the floats’ struts and braces, as well as control cables and water rudders. Remember, the entire preflight is conducted with the airplane in the water and those floats you’re standing on are narrow.

Erin and I would fly while Charlie was conducting his candidate’s oral exam.

When we were ready for my first floatplane flight, I untied the two ropes securing the Cessna’s left float to the dock and then stepped onto the float and
into the left seat, quickly adjusting it so I could reach the rudder pedals. As soon as you untie a floatplane, it begins to move. I had to get into the plane before the wind blew it back and away from the dock, so I didn’t waste any time climbing aboard. Charlie was to later admonish me to, “Never let the airplane leave the dock without you.” That’s often more challenging than it sounds.

Adding to the excitement, Erin told me to push the nose away from the dock before boarding. Again, the wind was taking the airplane, so I had to hurry. I “sort” of did what Erin directed, but as I got in, she said, “Next time, push harder.”

Time for engine start. As soon a seaplane’s propeller starts spinning it starts to move – you have no brakes on the water (when you start a multi-engine seaplane it starts moving in a circle). So, before engaging the starter, you have to ensure the airplane is pointed in a safe direction with no watercraft or obstructions, such as rocks or the shore, in the way.

Charlie’s Cessna has a Lycoming IO-360 rated at 210HP and a constant speed propeller. It has the factory seaplane package, but the original Edo floats have been replaced by Aqua 2400s. Being fuel injected, there is no carburetor heat, but it does have to be primed with the fuel pump, mags checked, and the prop exercised. I also verified that the water rudders were lowered. These are on the aft end of each float and are cabled to the “air” rudder for directional control on the water. They have to be raised by a floor-mounted lever prior to takeoff.

With that done, Erin “idle taxied” to the middle of Big Indian Pond to demonstrate a normal take off. On floats, there are three ways to taxi: idle taxi; plow taxi; and, step taxi. Not wanting to get too technical, I’ll only say that in idle taxi, you are moving under idle engine power, or maybe a bit more if you have a tailwind. You have more power and speed with the plow taxi, and with the step taxi you add enough power to “get on the step,” or the forward half of the floats. Being on the step minimizes the very considerable drag created by the floats and is where you must be to take off.

Each method has advantages and disadvantages. Idle taxi is slow, but safe, especially for the propeller. Propellers are very susceptible to water erosion, which can happen very quickly. For that reason, Charlie was adamant about keeping engine RPM at 800 or below. For the same reason when on the water you always maintain full up elevator to keep the propeller as far from the water as possible.

Plow taxiing is faster and more stable than the step taxi, but exposes the propeller to more erosion. Step taxiing is the fastest, but can be very unstable in a crosswind or turns.

By the way, most turns on the water are to the left in order to take advantage of the natural left turning tendencies of single-engine airplanes. Also, in a headwind it helps to lower the left aileron by turning the yoke to the right. The drag caused by the left aileron will pull the left wing back. Again, I don’t want to get too deep in details, but in a 180 degree turn with wind you will be manipulating the ailerons in both directions. You have to consider how to use the wind to turn, which is opposite how you bank and turn in the air–to turn left you “bank” to the right. Keep the flaps up while taxiing because they act like sails and also blanket an aileron and can make it difficult to turn, as I confirmed by experience.

Keeping full up elevator and 20 degrees of flaps, Erin advanced the throttle. As speed increased, the nose rose, hesitated, then rose again significantly, obstructing the forward view. At that point, she relaxed the elevator to neutral, lowering the nose. She looked for what was for her the correct sight picture to get the plane “on the step.” When she had it, she said, “Now, memorize how that looks to you.” I saw about two inches of water between the top of the cowling and the distant shore.

Once you have the correct sight picture, you leave it there. You don’t rotate to lift off in a seaplane as you do in a land plane. The airplane quickly became “unstuck” from the water and levitated nicely. Erin let me take it for the climb. After bleeding off the flaps and getting away from any populated areas, I did steep turns, slow flight, and a stall. No problems. With those floats hanging under the airplane, it stalled much sooner than I was used to. It didn’t mush at all: the nose dropped cleanly, but wasn’t overly dramatic. As you might imagine, the floats add to the plane’s side surface area, causing it to yaw quite easily. Throughout my training it was a real challenge to keep the turn coordinator ball in the middle.

After the air work, Erin had me aim at a lake a few miles away. As we approached, she pointed out rocks and obstructions and covered the various methods to determine wind direction. A great thing about flying floatplanes is that it’s generally possible to land directly into the wind. (Ok, so that’s not so easy on rivers.)

After selecting a landing area, Erin let me fly downwind and base. She took it for the approach to demonstrate a normal landing. Setting the flaps to 20 degrees, she set up final approach at 70 knots. She rounded out as you would in a landplane, found her sight picture, and kept it as we settled into the water. Erin explained that you never do a full-stall landing in a seaplane. As soon as we touched down, she brought the power to idle and pulled the yoke all the way back. With all that drag, the airplane quickly came to a stop. Again, nothing dramatic other than the sound and feel of the floats touching down on the lake’s surface.

Now it was my turn. I mimicked what Erin had done during takeoff and landing and got the same results. This was a hoot!

To Be Continued…