There was a rough airstrip , good for Cessna 206's and Islanders , about seventeen kilometers from the inlet where the barge upon which the whole camp including about forty rooms was located. We decided that Walter was not short of D8 Cats , trucks and graders so at his own expense he revived the road and the airstrip to include Navajos. This cut out the costly floatplane charters and now we could go direct from our home base directly into camp.
And poof! There went my nine months off a year. This was now a full time job that I had a passion for , given that I played a huge role in the business planning and execution. I learned a whole new industry in a matter of months and quickly gained an efficient relationship with parts suppliers , logging management and so on.
It quickly became evident to all the other contractors in camp that we were DIRECTLY involved with the industry that was rapidly becoming our specialty. We already flew direct to camp from Vancouver Island too. We were a private operator up until now so in order to legally procure their business , an operating certificate would have to be put in place.
I was so busy flying that Walters Mrs hired an expensive consultant to slog through the paperwork but he was ex government and worked so slowly that rigor mortis set in.... so I punted him and quickly discovered that paperwork was the weakest skill in my otherwise handsome inventory.
Once again , I survived this emergency by dealing the Jack from the back of the pack.