"Ice Stinson - CF-VYA"
                       by Garland Cofield
                         January 18, 1997

I was a missionary bush pilot in northern Canada flying a Stinson
108-3, registration CF-VYA, when I received one of the big scares
of my life.  I was taxiing for take off from a frozen lake in
sub-zero weather when the ice gave way beneath the plane's skis. 
I applied power but it was too late.

Water an ice came smashing up over the cowl against the
windshield.  I knew I had to get out immediately.  I unbuckled
the seat belt, banged the door open and forced myself out under
the wing in the freezing water.  Climbing onto the thin ice I lad
flat out and squirmed slowly until I had snaked my way 100 feet
or so from the plane.  Then, when I thought it was safe to do so,
I stood up and looked back.  To my surprise, the plane had not
sunk to the bottom of the 90 foot deep water.  The tail and
wingtips had caught on the ice.  By this time my clothing was
frozen stiff.  Then I remembered the survival kit, including a
waterproof match box, was in the plane.  "I guess some lessons
have to be learned the hard way," I told myself.
  
As I hurried toward the shore of the lake I couldn't help but
think of the three pilots who had gone down when their planes had
broken through the ice the year before.  I thought too of my many
conversations with experienced bush pilots when I began flying in
Canada in the early '60's.  

They explained there could be undetectable thin spots caused by
underwater currents and also warned me of the danger of hitting a
large unseen snowdrift when trying to land in low visibility.   
They filled me in on "whiteouts", glassy water landings and the
method of preheating engines in the bush in 30 below
temperatures.  From what they told me, I thought they must have
experienced many close calls.  Having flown mostly in the
southern states, I had never heard stories like these.  "If you
fly in the north long enough," they said, "You'll have a few of
your own to tell".  At that moment, I was wondering if I would
have a story or be a statistic.

With the help of a woodcutter I was able to get home safely late
that night.  I immediately enlisted my son Jim, Kim Meyering and
Dale Kuipers to help salvage the plane.

Back at the accident site, we spread large beams around the
aircraft.  These provided a footing for the long poles we used to
form a double A-frame from which we hung a chain hoist. To
prevent the aircraft form being crushed by the fast-forming ice,
we used a chain saw to keep it cut back.

On the fourth day, we lifted the plane out of the water and let
it down on the ice and boards.  We immediately drained the tanks
and the crankcase and removed and wrapped the radios and
instruments.  After that, we tied the plane to tow line behind a
couple of snowmobiles and towed it across the lake and up to a
clearing on the shore. There, after building a "house" around the
plane, we kept it heated for three days to thaw it out.

I knew the plane would have to be flown out because the thick
bush and rough terrain would not allow us to transport it any
other way.  We dried the mags, poured in fresh oil, installed the
necessary instruments, fueled up the tank and added a hot
battery.  What a thrill it was to hear that Franklin engine roar
to life!  

I taxied the plane out on the lake and headed her into the wind. 
As I fed the power, she lifted off and soared into the sky like
and eagle in flight.  I flew 100 miles to Red Lake, Ontario,
where I had the plane thoroughly inspected.  It needed no repairs
- there was just a small dent on the spinner.  I thanked the Lord
for bringing both the plane and me through the ordeal without
damage or injury.  

I continued to fly VYA for a couple more years until our
missionary workload required a larger aircraft. Such experiences
made bush flying in norther Canada exciting.  Airport were few
and far between so lakes had to provide our "runways" in winter
when we used skis, and in summer when we used floats.  Landing on
lakes included some risks, but it also had its advantages.  For
example, we had plenty of landing "fields" and we never had to
land crosswind.  

I am daily thankful to the Lord that, after all these years of
flying, I am still alive.  I am also grateful for my wife, Reba,
and for her willingness to work with me in the north.  Before we
were married the Lord graciously gave us the desire and the
ability to believe the gospel of Jesus Christ by which God offer
to save sinner form their sins.  

We were so grateful to him for His gift of eternal life and
forgiveness that we made up our minds to spend our lives serving
Him in missionary work.  Since then God has blessed our union
with four children and n exciting, joy filled life of serving the
cause of Christ together in Canada's north woods.  

We built a mission camp and home on the shore of beautiful lake,
made our own electricity, pumped water from the lake,
communicated by radio phone and ate many meals of moose meat and
fish.  

Since then, our children have graduated from university, married
and established homes of their own.  Our son, John, has taken
over the mission work we established and we are enjoying the
fruit of our labors, our grandchildren and another Stinson.