Yellowknife (Feb 17/03) - The year 2001 was not a good one for Northern aviation -- at least when it comes to plane crashes.

Percy Kinney - NNSL file photo

With three fatal air accidents occurring that year, the NWT surpassed Manitoba, Saskatchewan, Alberta and all of the Atlantic provinces combined in the number of crashes where people died. There were twice as many fatal accidents in the much more populous provinces of Quebec and Ontario.

Eight people died in NWT crashes that year, just one less than in Ontario.

Some may call it an anomaly, but rarely does a year go by in the NWT without more heartache and grief as another plane -- usually a small commuter aircraft -- goes down.

Out of the number of accidents reported in Canada over the last 10 years, the NWT (including Nunavut, 1992 to 1999) ranks seventh among all provinces and territories.

Averaging about 138,000 flights a year, with an ever-increasing number of trips to and from mines, exploration camps and communities separated by a lack of roads and highways, NWT airspace is some of the busiest in the country.

"If they stationed a search-and-rescue team here in the North somewhere, I don't care if it be Yellowknife or Whitehorse, at least it would be here," says Clell Crook Sr. "I think it would make a big difference."

Crook is the father of Kole Crook, the well-known fiddle player who died when the Cessna 172 he was flying in crashed New Year's Eve 2001 en route to Tulita from Fort Good Hope.

All four people on board the plane, including the pilot, perished in the crash. Although it was believed Kole Crook was killed upon impact, the three others didn't.

The Transportation Safety Board of Canada found that the pilot, Dana Wentzel, and the two other passengers, Ashley and Lindsay Andrew of Tulita, didn't die from their injuries but rather from hypothermia.

It took 40 hours for an air search-and-rescue team to reach the downed craft -- first, a Hercules sent from Winnipeg with parachute jumpers on board, followed by a Griffin helicopter out of Cold Lake, Alta.

No longer talking about rescue

Percy Kinney, chief coroner of the NWT, says the time it takes for search-and-rescue aircraft to reach the North from Winnipeg is troubling. Winnipeg is the main base for Canadian Forces Search and Rescue (SAR) serving the Prairies and the North.

Two issues likely to be raised at a public inquest expected this summer into the Tulita crash are the availability of search-and-rescue aircraft and the reliability of emergency locator transmitters (ELTs) on board small airplanes.

"You're looking at a six- to eight-hour time lag in getting here," says Kinney. "If you're taking eight hours to get here to do search and rescue in the North during the winter time you're not doing search and rescue, you're doing search and recovery."

There are four Canadian Forces Twin Otters stationed in Yellowknife, but they mainly serve as secondary support for SAR. They are not equipped for rescuers to parachute from into a crash site.

"We should be looking at ways to beef that up, and that might be by using more local resources, and beefing up what DND (Department of Defence) resources we have locally so that they can become at least an early-on search and resource until such a time when those resources get here," says Kinney.

Can't see without an ELT

ELTs are also a problem, says Kinney. The standard ELT found on most small aircraft in the North operates at 121.5 megahertz, an international distress frequency.

After a plane crash that occurred near Fort Liard in Oct., 2001, search-and-rescue craft initially had difficulty locating the crash site, even though it was less than two kilometres from the community.

The Transportation Safety Board thought magnetic interference may have caused the problem. Kinney believes making the usage of the more stable 406 megahertz ELTs -- fitted to the plane's global positioning system -- mandatory may help.

"Part of the reason it took so long is you had RCMP in a civilian helicopter with a handheld locator to try and find them," says Kinney. "DND comes up here with their Hercs, and bang -- they got it in no time, because they have the gear, but the gear is eight hours away."

Major Grant MacDonald has flown over 100 missions in his time with SAR. He says there's no worse feeling than when a search turns out badly.

He recalls one time while on a search for a missing pilot in B.C. he was approached by the pilot's mother, who implored him to continue searching for him after nine fruitless days.

"It's kind of sad," says MacDonald. "She reminded me of my own mother. She said she hoped she could convince me to keep looking, and I had to very patiently and carefully explain to her why we wouldn't continue looking.

"That wasn't very pleasant, and doesn't make you feel like having your dinner afterwards, I can tell you that."