I don’t know if I made the right decision by taking Highway 520. It is not a highway with limited access. Well, where is this damned terminal; Berri. The useless stress created by last minute crisis management, not my style. By arriving at Viking's hangar this morning, the first information which I receive from Tina, is that my passport is still at the Embassy of Gabon in Ottawa!

Could you please, she asks me, go retrieve it at the bus terminal, downtown Montreal. It should be in at 15:30.

Euh. yes...

I really had no need for this. At 16:30, the bus still hasn’t arrived of course, and don't forget I should be in Mirabel at 18:00! At 16:45, finally I get it. Now, it's rush hour of the Montreal nightmarish traffic! No time to return at Viking's to park my car. Dollard-des-Ormeaux is much closer. I did not reach Jacynthe at work. I arrive at her home at 17:15. Not bad, except nobody. I leave the key of my Toyota to the neighbour and a word in the mailbox. This one (the neighbour, not the box, ha ha!) kindly calls a taxi.

At 17:20, I'm on my way towards Mirabel. The driver is very satisfied to finish his day with a run to Mirabel. 38 $. + 5 $. of tip, thank you. He finds my story funny and would like to know the continuation in six weeks.

No seat on the plane. What? I have a status "OK", that is reserved, no? I really look forward to being in the air, in command of my helicopter; my anti-stress "pill". I have no apprehension to what awaits me. It is going to be a liberation compared to what I have just lived today. Finally on board the plane, takeoff at 20:15, late of course! The rest is piece of cake. Good supper on the plane.

It is necessary to mention here that, given there was no more place in economy, I got upgraded without fuss. I find that it is the minimum anyway for a flight of more than five hours. But Viking decided otherwise. The sleeping pill takes effect. I sleep well.

Accompanying me for this trip on the Air France 747: Karl Hartlen, assistant chief-pilot; he wants to see if he is also capable of doing this job; Bryne Nuttall, who will be my mechanic for a period of six weeks; Georges Hawkins, pilot of the 212 based in camp 395; finally, Georges Delaney, vice-president of Viking Helicopters.

Thursday , March 16, 1989

We arrive at Charles-de-Gaulles airport, Paris at 9:00. Six hours of time difference, but I am in shape, not having undergone the "jet lag" thanks to my snooze! Two hours of waiting.

We board a DC 10 of UTA. That will take more than five hours of flight to Libreville. We glance through the windows at the Sahara; I can see the mount Cameroon, 13,000 feet, from the cockpit of the DC 10.

Upon arrival, it is a thermic shock. We are at the equator. I am well rested, thanks to the sleeping pill. We register at the Tropicana hotel. I spend the rest of the afternoon on the beach and swim in the ocean. It seems that the women are allergic to swimsuit top, here. Men are not going to complain about it!

The hotel is not the best, but it costs only 130,000 CFA FRANCS (52 $. Can) per night. The dining room has no wall, but what's the use here? We can also eat under huts of palm tree leaves directly on the beach.

I swim at midnight, in the Atlantic ocean. It is warm. I sleep very well, thanks to the air-conditioning, in spite of cockroaches!

Friday , March 17, 1989

It is the day of acclimatization. I walk all morning on the beach. In the afternoon, I go to Viking's hangar at the airport. I speak with the manager, Wendy, hired on the spot by Viking. I wonder why she is there. She knows absolutely nothing about helicopters. Everybody hates her.

Late supper in the city (Libreville) with the others. Jean Lalumière is part of the group, for three weeks in Gabon. The guys bring us in a supposedly correct bar, called "Les Folles de Nuit", hum? A hooker's bar! We laugh, we've been had. One beer and we leave. It has to be seen, though.

I shall bear the speeches of Georges Delaney until midnight. Too bad we waste such a beautiful evening. I go to bed after having eaten too much... And drank too much. I miss my midnight bath and it is better so, as I shall learn later. I sleep little and very badly.

Saturday , March 18, 1989

Up at 6:00 o'clock, not in good shape. The Air Gabon plane, a Fokker F28 (same as the one that crashed in Ontario), takes off at 8:00. I did not have breakfast and they serve nothing on the plane, given the short duration of the trip. We land in Lambarèné, a village of about five thousands souls. At the airport, the only road is of red dirt.

Richard Bérubé, the guy whom I am going to replace, waits for us with the helicopter. Ten minutes of flight and we arrive at camp 394. How hot! Am I going to get used to it? Lots of perspiration, even at rest and in the shadow. I go flying as observer with Richard. I am so exhausted that I sleep while flying, even during the abrupt movements of the machine caused by the long line operations. I try the two hundred feet line myself; no problem!

We eat well, and there is not too many mosquitoes. Well, it's the bush. I relax. Disagreeable fact of the camp set up: six minutes of walking between the heliport and the camp and going up hill. So, to go for lunch in a hurry with the sun completely upright, it is hard!

Sunday , March 19, 1989

I slept very well. I begin the work. The worst problem, is to localize the areas of landing in this flat jungle where everything looks alike. We don't use a map and anyway, there is no visual reference to navigate. I get angry. I return to the camp and take Richard with me. Some small tricks with the compass and here we are. I mentally imagine the seismic grid on the ground and I shall never have problems again. The sling operation is difficult but that goes very well. I am not too stressed. Apparently, I am the fastest!

The laundry and the ironing is done every day. This evening, my short trousers have mysteriously disappeared. It's not the value, but the fact that I need it.

Together with the other Viking employees, we take a few drinks and have a lot of fun. One tells me that the sharks are feeding at night near the beach in Libreville. No more midnight bath when I return to Libreville! No shower, no ventilator tonight, I sleep very bad.

This camp, near the lake Ezanga, has about twenty tents of either one or two beds. I am alone in mine. The kitchen consist of an immense tarp spreaded on a frame of trees assembled together with ropes.

Monday , March 20, 1989

I get up very tired. I slept bad. Have my breakfast with ants on the table and the mosquitoes in the plate. I make a good workday. I do not find my shorts yet. Karl lends me a pair his. I go to bed early. We undergoe a big thunderstorm during the night. I finally have a ventilator in my tent this evening, and I sleep very well until the next day. The shower worked. (Total of two for all the camp). The water is filtered, chlorinated and stored in bladders.

Tuesday , March 21, 1989

I fly in the morning only. Richard did not leave yet and flies in the afternoon. I am going to visit Alonha village, near the lake. I asked for Alexis, a black driver of rowboat, if he could give me a ride. The other drivers are jealous, but Alexis retort to them that the chief (it is me) asked him, and he can not refuse.

The village is such as those that one sometimes sees in films about Africa. The lack of hygiene is evident. Embarrassed people look at me; sometimes friendly, sometimes suspicious or distrustful, even. I am the only white here. I take several photos after asking for their permission. I drink a soft drink to the small dirty bar, with Alexis. It is a really exhilarating ride by boat. Alexis makes a detour to show the place where he shot a hippopotamus. The skull is still there.

Already, (or finally), I adapt to the heat. This evening I go to bed too early. I sleep very bad.

Wednesday , March 22, 1989

As in every wake-up after a bad night, I am feeling depressed. I am tired, already demoralized. On the other hand, when I am in flight it is the metamorphosis. I like flying. In the afternoon, I fly in 212 with Karl. This evening, I go to bed early. Average sleep only.

Thursday , March 23, 1989

I wake up with the body covered with pimples, probably a reaction to the heat. I am all the same worried. This evening, we receive a big thunderstorm. To this day, it is raining every evening. I sleep well until the next day.

Friday , March 24, 1989

I get up in good shape, without the usual feeling of depression. In the mouth, I have my gum infected. That worries me. On the other hand, the pimples have decreased.

I fly in 212 this morning. I fly the Twinstar in the afternoon. Richard decided so. I look forward to that he leaves. According to me, there is too much overlap in the schedule. I have to share the flights with him.

I work with black guys, and it is sometimes funny. They have little instruction, but most of them are nice. On the other hand, after a days work, they sure smell! All are muscular without fat.

My skill in the long line improves every day.

This evening, I drink two Regab, the local beer. I sleep bad. It looks like this beer has mysterious malefic powers. I get up the following morning with a big headache,depressed. Karl tells me he made African nightmares. (Black warriors with lances, etc.).

Saturday , March 25, 1989

The morning is very hard. I am in bad shape. I almost didn't eat. Furthermore, my gum has swelled even more. In the afternoon, I have the chance to have a nap in the helicopter.

A black guy congratulates me in the name of his friends, for the way I land the baskets with the helicopter. We constantly feel their polite and subdued attitude. Alternately, to date, one addresses me by calling me Captain, my Captain, Chief, Mister Marc, Boss, etc.

The nature is really impressive. Trees are awesome, often reaching two hundred feet in height. The forest is very dense, full of lianas connecting trees and branches in an impenetrable mess.

I saw and heard a volier of Gabonese parrots today. We received no rain this evening.

Sunday , March 26,1989

I get up in good shape. I take my weekly dose of chloroquine (Aralen 500mg). A big thunderstorm late in the afternoon forces me to return to the camp earlier. Since Richard left, I come to have dinner at a more reasonable time, in spite of the pressures from the customer.

My mechanic Bryne accompanied the bosses by boat in a small village at the lake Evaro. They will not return this evening. They sleep in a certain hotel where apparently German ladies on hollidays are tanning bare bosoms!

It is Easter, and the beer is free. I avoid Regab. Heineken is better. I try to call Nathalie by radio HF. It is always occupied. I shall resign to give up, it's time for me to go to sleep.

Monday , March 27, 1989

This evening, I manage to talk to Nathalie. By radio HF, I call the American Coast Gard in Florida. They patch me to the public phone, because I claim that I am aboard a vessel. We are on maritime frequency (illegal). I give them my coordinates, they adjust their antenna then patch me to a phone operator. From there, the call is six dollars per minute.

I still have gum infection. Given that Western Geophysic charter a plane from Libreville tomorrow, and given that Georges Hawkins is available to replace me, it is decided that I shall see a doctor.

Tuesday , March 28, 1989

I board a Piper Aztec. The bush runway is awful and way too short for this type of plane. The takeoff is frightening.

I arrive in Libreville around 9:00 o'clock. I go to the dentist, a Vietnamese lady, at noon. I receive mouth rinse for the gum and I take advantage of the visit to fix a tooth decay. I refuse the local anesthetic, by fear of AIDS. 28,000 CFA FRANCS (115. Dollars). Wow! Is the assurance going to cover that?

Libreville is very exotic for me, contrasting with the North American cities.

I begin to like working here, for the exoticism and also for the opportunity to meet full of different people. Those who travel, they are interesting.

In the afternoon, I fly with Twinstar up to the camp 395, fifteen minutes of Libreville. I glance at the presidential palace, restricted zone, almost in hedgehopping. Are they going to shoot at me?

This evening I end up at the hotel Tropicana. It is not the big luxury, but it has charm. I go for a swim at 18:30 o'clock. That feels good!

After supper (which by the way never begins before 20:00 o'clock), I go sit on the beach, alone with nothing to do. One may be at the equator, the idleness and the solitude weigh. That I would like to have my small family here, to walk on the beach with me; to explain to Roselyne why there are waves.

It is not safe for a white guy to go out in the evening in the city. So, I get bored at the hotel.

Wednesday , March 29, 1989

I spend the whole day at the beach. It is maybe my only chance to take some sun. So far, only my arms and nose are tanned!

I spend hours in the water. It is warmer than Jamaica. It is my day of convalescence, (for what?) At least, a beautiful day of flight awaits me tomorrow. I am going to follow the whole country coast to the South, going to the Congo border and back.

Thursday , March 30, 1989

I slept bad again . The air-conditioning is not even enough to cool the hotel room. So, I got up at 5:45 o'clock. I can not even have breakfast, being up too early. I take off around 6:15 o'clock, southward bound for Port-Gentil. The customers wait for me there. It takes about one hour of flight.

After embarking the passengers, I head South, following the coast. It takes one hour and thirty minutes to reach Gamba. We fill up the tanks and leave southward.

We install a temporary radio beacon, and fly twenty minutes more to the South. Then, we arrive to Mayumba. This is a small paradise: a fishermen's village connected to the civilization by an impracticable track in rainy season. In dry season, the driver can rely only on himself to cross the country. No certainty as if to finding some gas, and certainly no repair. That's Africa. The road here, it is only a "trail".

Of Mayumba, we fly another one hour and thirty minutes to the border of Congo. Two other radio beacons get installed. Only beaches along the entire coast.

On the way back, late in the afternoon, we are privileged to see elephants by hundreds, as well as buffaloes, wild boars and crocodiles. Formidable!

This evening, I sleep in Port-Gentil, at the Meridian hotel. In total, we flew seven hours today. The room costs the moderate sum 30.000 CFA FRANCS (170 $. Can). The garden between the dining room and the section of rooms is beautiful.It has all kinds of exotic trees that are magnificent.

I am going to have supper in town with the guys of CGG, my passengers, who are very nice Frenchmen from France (the real ones!)

The city of Port- Gentil is the economic capital of Gabon. It is smaller and "more African" than Libreville. It seems that one needs much less to distrust, and this is confirmed to me by my friends.

There are many drilling platforms in the bay, some active, being exploited by Shell, Elf, or another oil company.

Of course, our presence here is for the petroleum research. The "seismic", is a method of subterranean topography. Teams on the ground spread cables which connect geophones planted in the ground. Along these lines, explosives are placed. The explosion is activated from the laboratory, which collects the readings passed on by geophones. One can then draw a profile of the deep layers of the underground passage, and by circumstance, to determine where the petroleum can be.

The helicopter serves for moving the laboratory, for advancing the material as the work progresses, and to assume all the supply for the teams on the ground as well as their movement.

The company Héli-Gabon had the contract of the installations of maritime radio beacons, but having no available pilots, they had of to call Viking.

I meet Francis Lacourt, a French pilot that I knew from Bay James eleven years ago. Small world!

Friday , March 31, 1989

As usual it takes forever to fill a flight plan. I make the flight towards Libreville in the morning. In Africa, if you're in a hurry, you'll get mad. Might as well get used to the idea.

Return to the Tropicana. No bathing, because I have the face burned by the sun. The rooms are under trees. All the time, fruits fall on the roof causing noise that makes your heart jump. Not surprising why nights are so difficult.

Saturday , April 01, 1989

The helicopter which I should fly to return to the camp 394 is out of service, because of the transmission oil pressure. The customers over there call for me. So, I book a seat on Air Gabon for Monday on April 3, destination Lambaréné.

I meet Dave Thompson, from Ontario, who recently arrived as mechanic on the 212. Thirty five years old, he does not first appear to be the ideal companion to laugh. It turns out that it is all the opposite.

We go eat together at Wou, a Chinese restaurant in city. That becomes very funny, especially after a few Regab, one liter of red wine and three "chiew", a particular Chinese drink (60 % of alcohol).

Later, we go to the disco Komo. At 14 $. Can. the drink, needless to say that we do not continue there. We stop at the fair on the way back. Too late, all the kiosks are closing. We are the only whites in all this crowd. We go in a true African bar, small, badly aerated and dirty. At 200 CFA FRANCS for a Regab, don't ask too much, if you feel well with an exclusively black clientele.

A violent thunderstorm lasts all night long. We return to the hotel at 1:30 in the morning.

Sunday , April 02, 1989

Surprising fact, I get up in good shape. We can’t say so much about Dave!

In the afternoon, the wind gets up from the northwest, the waves becoming strong. I try a windsurfing board, but the elements are too violent for my level. Finally, I content with surfing on the waves with the board.

This evening, Lebanese supper to the restaurant Cedars.

Monday , April 03, 1989

I take Fokker F28 of Air Gabon to Lambaréné. I return to the camp 394 and resume the work at once. A good day still, with more than five hours of flight.

Tuesday , April 04, 1989

At 6:30 am, I get my short trousers back! Taht’s a good way to start my day.

In Africa, we should be careful with things placed on the ground and not used for a while. The nets which are used to the transport of the external loads under the helicopter, are rolled and arranged on the ground at the heliport. By moving one of these nets, I discover a scorpion who had elected it as his place of residence. Charming small animal! Luckily that someone found it before loading the net in the cabin of the helicopter.

The rain and the thunder settle down for good in the afternoon. That cools the air down a little. At night, the temperature drops to 26 degrees Celsius, and the humidity becomes such as our clothes give the sensation to be wet the next day. The day, the temperature oscillates between 36 and 40 degrees, with points in 42 degrees in the sun. I drink at least four liters of water a day. On the camp, the bottles of drinking water are supplied at will, as well as carbonated drinks and juices. The tap water is filtered and chlorinated to kill the parasites, but is only used for the laundry and the shower.

There is electricity provided by generator, distributed in all the tents. All the goods arrive by barge, since Port-Gentil. About two complete days of navigation on the Ogooué river. Wee can say that it is quite a logistic and organization involved!

The blacks, indeed are employed on all the difficult tasks. Very big days for them with small salary; according to the African standards, they are doing well, though. They earn between six and eight hundred dollars a month.

They live under big community tarps, and sleep in mosquito nets. Their camp is separated from the one of the white guys. Most of these local employees enjoy their pay completely as entertainment. They almost have no compulsory expenditure to be met. No house or car to be paid, unlike us.

This evening, another safety meeting. The customers discuss about my hour to have dinner. They simply don’t want me to stop. Nevertheless, according to me, it is a minimum of safety, exactly.

It is all the same a difficult life, in a harsh environment where one should keep good relations among others. Nevertheless, I am satisfied to be here. At least one appreciates me for the work which I carry out, unlike Hydro Quebec!

My working clothes is a pair of pair of shorts and a T-shirt, with rope-soled sandals. One thing beautiful about the equator, when we get up in the morning, we don’t wonder how we are going to dress.

Aboard the helicopter, wee carry saw, axe, machete, "jungle kit", first aid as well as a snake bite kit.

Thursday , April 6, 1989

In the afternoon I see a whole colony of monkeys macaques, very near. They jump everywhere in the trees, frightened by the helicopter.

This evening, the air is less hunid and cooler (mater of speak!). That makes the sleep better really; fans in every tent are not a luxury, but an essential.

Friday , April 7

The tsetse fly frightens the blacks a lot. They are adamant at hunting one tsetse which turns all around me. I learnt later that there were no cases of the famous desease since the 60s.

The day is painful. The heat is crushing. The rate of relative humidity is between 80 and 90 %. This evening, the air remains heavy, warm and humid. Even after the shower at 20:00 pm, one continues to perspire abundantly. I look forward to going out from here. Better if I don’t think about it...

Saturday , April 8, 1989

On our small camp, several nationalities as well as different languages mix. The Western company Geophysic is American. It employs also British and Frenchmen. The Line openers are Brazilian. These speak Portuguese. A few others from Central America speak Spanish.

Sunday , April 9, 1989

What a job! The long line operation to be executed with a steel cable of two hundred feet, in vertical reference, is a challenge at every approach. It requires a lot of concentration, but the awesome satisfaction afterward is like a drug.

I am forced to land in a savanna because of the violent electric thunderstorms which closes on me. I witness the lightning stikes that hits the ground one kilometre in front of me. Disturbing fate.

Monday , April 10, 1989

In the afternoon, I take a walk in the jungle. It is very dark and very humid because of the trees and plants, so dense. It is so noisy with insects and songs of unknown birds. Very impressive, different.

Thursday , April 13

If I have reduced the writing, it is not that the time stopped. It is that upon passing the four weeks in the jungle, I am depressed. I miss my dear ones. I look forward to seeing Nathalie and Roselyne again.

I like my profession and therefore, the new aspect of the contract here in Africa seems tempting to the one that is not here, but the compulsory sacrifices are sometimes immense, almost inhuman. The lack of communication with my family isolates me much more than the distance.

By going down the hill which leads to the heliport, while I was half awakened, a scorpion crosses my path, raised stinger, in position of attack. I played little with him before continuing my road.

The day is extremely warm. In spite of the heat, I resumed the physical training. A healthy spirit in a healthy body!

In the afternoon, the violent thunderstorm beats down on the camp. Several big trees break. It is impressive.

This evening I speak to Nathalie by radio HF. That raises my morale. I learn that CHC bought Viking. Is it for the best or for the the worst?

Sunday , April 16, 1989

This evening, the safety meeting adjourns without having settled anything, as usual. A particular problem concerns helicopters. The bad flight following. A single frequency is used for all the operations so that if an urgency occurred, one would not succeed in broadcasting our message. Furthermore, the operator is incompetent.

Wednesday , April 19

It is the first morning that the weather is so miserable. That clears up suddenly at 11:00 am.

The guys from Libreville sent us a present. Three bottles of 26 ounces of varied alcoolic drinks. This evening, it party time in Bryne’s tent.

Thursday , April 20, 1989

The day after! Memorable, it goes without saying. I am in a pitiful state. No breakfast. No dinner. I take advantage of the meal time to sleep. I recover with difficulty.

A python of one metre fifty was caught by a fisherman. Someone takes pictures of me with the snake alive around the neck.

The blacks are very afraid of these tiny creatures. Roger, a Cameroonian, tells me that I am careless; ihe is really impressed or upset, and does not stop looking at me in a strange way. From now on, his attitude toward me will not be the same anymore.

Friday , April 21

I spend part of the morning on the ground at the helipad 15B. I chatter with Gabonese and Zairean. They are very interesting. Contrary to what one may think, the jungle is as new to them as it is to me. They find the life here hard. They are very interested in Canada, inquire about possible schooling, etc.

This evening at supper, I speak with Adrien, Gabonese of Libreville. He is of the clan of Pongoués which are a part of Bantous. Very cultivated, he was in France and in United States, eleven years outside Gabon.

He denounces the politics of Bongo, the president, tenth richest man in the world. The propaganda used to numb the youth, what allows him to grow rich.

Gabon is a rich country, and it is its weakness, because desired by the big heads. These never gave the people a chance to develop, and to have their part of the cake. As guilty is the Western Geophysic Company, with its current mission. The hired blacks are treated worse than slaves. As Adrien says, the slaves ate well! They could free themselves, and anyway, they were respected by their boss.

Here, the excuse of the salary allows to the bosses to deceive the men, and the politics covers these abuses. Also, this camouflage allows the Americans of Western Geophysic to be opportunist, what they don’t miss to do. Typical Americans. And if the blacks mount against the white bosses, someone will say about them that the wild instinct comes back to surface. I should admit that in the same conditions, my wild instinct wouls have surfaced a long time ago!

There are many racial prejudices, naturally. The Americans believe all these people stupid without taking time to listen them.

These guys work twelve hours a day, seven days a week. Their temporary camp is moved every day by helicopter. There could be some schedule restructuration. Often, the rain dips all the personal effects.

The Company don’t even supply them with insecticide. No distribution of cigarettes. Only for the Whites. No favour to the Blacks. Sometimes the camp cook prepares the meal and often the helicopter move coincides. The hot, full cauldrons are loaded aboard the helicopter and moved to the following site! To us, a similar operation would use a supplementary helicopter to travel the employees in the mornings and evening on the scene of work. Here we witness slavery of modern times. Adrien says that it is good that Canadians come to Gabon. By speaking to the inhabitants, I show that all the Whites are not similar.

Gabon is a Republic, the monopoly of which France has. These people would have maybe preferred to live in accordance with themselves and the nature, rather than to see the progress invading them, too quickly, without them having the time to adapt. Some people live in huts, to look "At dynasty" and "Dallas" at the television. Rock and Roll, Michael Jackson, etc. are all too well known here too.

Monday , April 24, 1989

7:00 am: fog on the ground in camp 394. Wee leave with the helicopter towards Lambaréné. Louis St-Pierre, my replacement, flies the machine. We can’t find the airport, because of the reduced visibility. We land on a farm. From there, we pay the farmer to drive us with his Suzuki to the airport, for 20 $. The trail is very bad. That’s the adventure!

We finally get on the plane which will bring us to Libreville after one stopover in Port-Gentil.

I spend the rest of the afternoon at the beach, again checked in the motel Tropicana. This evening, I have supper at the restaurant Seoul for the equivalent of 60 $. Can. I then go to the Paris bar. I am in no mood for partying. I return to the motel early with Alain Perriault.

Tuesday , April 25, 1989

In the morning, report on the events at the camp. In the afternoon, the beach. This evening, purchase of souvenirs in town with Robert Masson.

Later, registration of luggage at the airport. We easily by-pass the stage of security, being identified as crewmembers.

I sleep well in the plane thanks to the sleeping pill. In Paris, after asking UTA, I get a luxury hotel room to rest while in transit, free of charge.

The 747 of Air France takes off with two hours delay, at 14:20 local time. I land finally in Mirabel, welcomed by Julienne and Louis. The joy of return into my country!