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August 2009

©Ian Coristine/1000IslandsPhotoArt.com
A friends Island


Incoming...


Mandy helping dad prepare a wing

This month we had a few more visitors. After dropping daughter Mandy off at the airport, we returned home to meet aunts and uncles from Ottawa and Arizona. They dropped in for a quick overnight visit and we had a great time with mini boat cruises and the obligatory view of the Starfire skunkworks (the airplane build).

Enough aunts and uncles to beat the band!

Shortly thereafter, my sister Loraine’s family came with my mother, while my brother Marc came from Montreal to spend the night. There were seven of us and as small as the cabin is we actually have beds for 10 people. Which begs the question…where were you? The object of this mini invasion was to facilitate getting my mother from my sister’s place in Toronto where she was visiting, to my brother’s place in Montreal. We just happen to be located at the midway point in between, so we were chosen as the meeting place for an overnight stop.

Sister Loraine, brother Marc and Mom

As chance would have it, it happened to be Mom’s birthday so we whooped it up and BBQ’d up a storm. Following their departure, my sister and her family stayed for the remainder of the long week end.


Adirondacks or bust!
Our digs in the Adirondacks

We have had over twenty requests to rent the island this summer including one person wanting to rent it for two months. (Yea right, as if!) Our first of this summer’s two renters came early this month while we took a week off to visit the Adirondacks. The home we stayed in for this exchange was featured in an architectural book of the regions homes as well as “Adirondack Life” magazine. I still have to pinch myself to think that due to our doing a home exchange while renting out the island we are being paid…generously- to visit places like this at no cost. Is this a great country, or what!



To see the video of the cottage, click on the arrow


We certainly took advantage of the time to visit more of the area including Saranac Lake, Crown Point and Lake Placid, home to America’s Winter Olympic skiing training center. It was exciting to see future hopefuls giving it their all. Since this is summer, they brilliantly use a pool for their landings.



To see the video, just click on the arrow


Still, I didn’t forget that I am trying to build an airplane this summer so I took some smaller components with me to work on while we were away. OK, so my bride was not impressed. Something about not knowing anyone whose husband takes a rudder and horizontal stabilizers to work on while on vacation...

Fly little hatcheling, fly.

Vacation? What vacation? We have been on vacation for the past 5 years. Every day is a vacation, isn’t it?

The 'Dancer'

Our second week of renting the Island coincided with a long planned trip up the Rideau Canal (A World heritage site since 2007) on our friends Wayne and Barbara’s yacht. What a kick it was traversing the locks as well as seeing a couple of hundred miles (300 kilometers) of this stretch of the river. Parts of it are fairyland in nature and history abounds. It was our first time living aboard a boat for a week and I got promoted to first mate! Now I am qualified to not only swab the deck but clean the latrine. It will be some time before I stop saying "Arrrr" and "Ahoy" a lot but I had to knock off the "down to the galley, you scurvy bilge rat" when Janice refused to make lunch. What fun we have.



Let’s Party!

In June I mentioned that I had performed some magic for a groundbreaking of sorts for the Thousand Island Maritime Museum. No sooner had I finished, that I was asked to do it again for a charity fund raiser for a local Heritage Museum.

Polaris Island

This was a rather upscale do, where 100 of us were taken aboard a 63 foot (21 meter) yacht, to a stunning home on a private island for a an evening party that was catered by several of the local restaurants. At a $125 a head, we were well catered to. There was a band, hors d’oeuvres to die for, enough champagne and wine to sink a shi
p and wonderful desert trays. I had been asked to perform walk around magic as an ‘ice breaker’, a means for people to be introduced to each other and get the event off to an elegant start.

The invitations called for a white dress code, an unusual requirement for islanders whose idea of dressing up usually consists of wearing pants with a functioning zipper. It was also the first time we have been to an event that seemed to consist primarily of fellow island owners, albeit the majority of which were considerably above my pay grade. These folks own some serious toys… All in all it was a great evening, giving us a glimpse of a lifestyle we would love to become accustomed to.


“I know a guy”


Whenever the conversation turns to my summer project, the first question I am always asked is “When are you going to be finished?” It’s the darnest thing to not really have a clue. I could easily estimate how long it would take me to re-do any part I have completed (about a third of the time it took me to do it the first time) but I am clueless as to how long the remainder will take as I am a first time builder.

I have finally come to understand why it takes some guys a few hundred hours and others over a thousand. The devil is in the details. Like many other things in life, you have a choice regarding what 'good enough' will be. Don't get me wrong, none of these details involve safety. There is zero tolerance for compromise here. Rather it involves comfort, convenience and aesthetics.

Since I am an owner builder, I can decide if the 'finish" on the airplane will be rougher looking or take the time to make it look smoother and professional. It will fly just the same but you get to decide how much pride you want to take in your work. Do I take the time to round out the rough cut brackets on the doors? (Yes) ...or call it good enough (No) Minor details and modifications that increase the WOW factor take time. A lot of time. In some ways, it is like working on a project at home. If I take the time to finish it well, you will never notice. If I don't, it will stand out like a sore thumb.

I am not making excuses here. I am sure that there are many builders that are faster, smarter and more efficient than I. But I will take all the time I need to do this right. On the other hand, I am not trying to build a piece of art here either. I want to fly this thing in THIS lifetime and I am aware that the summer is quickly slipping away.

I do know that when we are 'company-less' I don’t fool around and I spend long days in my hangar. In fact, I am so focused that recently I came home after a long day and while changing out of my work clothes I noticed that I had worn two different shoes. Janice on the other hand, is growing weary of my being as frugal as an Amish farmer. "Enough", she says, as I calculate if we should buy the big box of cereal that is a deal or if it will tie up too much capital.

Inevitably, at some point in the conversation, I am told about ‘the guy’. ‘The guy’, as in “I knew a guy who was killed in one of those airplanes…” Sometimes it was something they saw or heard about in the news, sometimes it is a story they heard from someone else. But somehow the conversation almost always concludes with them recounting a story of a tragic end to a private pilot.


I don’t want to make light of things but I am curious as to why if someone mentions that they bought a new car, the conversation does not automatically become about knowing some ‘guy’ who burned to death when his car went over a cliff. Yet, it happens, right? I guess private aviation is still largely unfamiliar to most and there is a fear of the unknown. For the record, I know of dozens of pilots who fly often and on a whim with none the worse for wear.



The art of the
1 word question

While in Europe, I sometimes write about some of the cultural contrasts I see compared to what we are accustomed to here in America. One struck me the other day as I was shopping.

Here, we have a tendency to really get to the point of the business at hand. In Europe, or France anyway, there is a “let’s warm up to the idea” concept that I still feel is foreign to me. Let me explain.

When I am looking for something in a store for instance, I can ask my question in one word. “Milk?” with an inquisitive look will get me a gesture or short answer like “aisle 4”. We are not getting married here so there is no need for idle chatter. The same goes for asking directions. If I am ‘location challenged’ and I am driving by someone on the street, I can slow down and shout “10th street?” with the same ‘where the heck is it?’ look.

Most often the response will go something like “two blocks then left” with appropriate gestures. You will note that I said slow down as there is no need to actually stop. Quick and to the point. You know, efficiently American. In France however, this would never work. Many times in France I have forgotten this ‘vive la difference’ and felt like a real dolt. There, it’s all about relationship building. You always begin the conversation with a greeting. In most cases, where possible, a handshake.

The kicker is when you are asking for directions from your car to a passing pedestrian.

“Hello” you begin after coming to a complete stop, blocking all traffic.

“Hello, can I help you?” he might respond.

“Yes please. I am looking for a street that I am not familiar with” you say.

“That’s OK, I know the area well” “What street are you trying to find?” he asks (In America the driver behind you would be wondering what the problem was and why don’t you get going!)

“Well, I have an appointment on 10th street and I have been driving around but I can’t find it” you answer. (Here in America, the driver behind you would be honking his horn and making “gimme a break!” gestures while shaking his fist!)

“Oh, 10th street is easy to find. Just keep going straight for two blocks, then turn left at the bakery. Be careful not to miss the turn or you will have to drive two more blocks before you can make a U turn” he explains.

“Thank you, you have been quite helpful” you say as you glance in your rear view mirror noticing that the driver behind you here would be reaching for a baseball bat or loading his 45 for a clear cut case of justifiable road rage.

Life on these two continents is just not the same.