Well, for those unaware of how different a hovercraft can be from other water, land, or air crafts, one starts with a flat-bottomed boat, place a couple of Teflon runners underneath. Install a well-balanced Rotax, or quieter, engine with just the right amount of energy. Find one or two "perfect" rotary blades-In addition, lightweight, yet durable, cowling for the entire craft. Next, dress it up with rubberized, reinforced skirts to hold the air close to the holes for lift. Electrical ties hold the bottom of the skirts to assist in lift. Our machine was 8' x 25' with two fans (one for thrust and one for lift.) run by a Ford 460 hp, aviation gas guzzling motor.  We were to be trained by a proficient Master Hovercraft Pilot - Mike Justin. For various reasons, Michael was unable to train father and me. To add to the adventure, our hovercraft was delayed by two months, as was our two-week daily training.

Mike was too sick to teach us how to fly, so the owner of Alaska Hovercraft hauled our Corsair to Nenana in late July and spent three hours, on the Tanana River, teaching us to fly. I took copious notes and Chuck taught Dad how to fly. It made sense to teach Dad the finer details as he had been a pilot before.

I spent about 3/4 hour at the helm to get the hang of it in case Dad needed a relief-driver. We were warned there were only two ways to flip it, one, if the thrust was too much, the craft would flip head over teakettle. Two, if changing direction too fast, with not enough thrust, the craft would flip side over side. Another issue, not as lethal, would be if the machine was not balanced properly, the craft could drag water or dirt and pull off its skirts, which held the air, we would spray whatever surface off to one side and have lots of issues depending on the circumstances. Note to self: There is no AAA on the rivers in the middle of Alaska. No wiggle room for error. No problem, Dad is safety-minded!

We said goodbye to the builder and went to the restaurant for lunch. I reviewed the notes with Dad. He admitted that he had - not - heard - a word - Chuck - had - told - him. The decibel level was near 70dBl underway, I had to strain to catch what Chuck was saying as well. My challenge was Chuck wasn't talking to me and I was sitting behind him. I was blessed with my mother's ears, quite keen! Dad's challenge was he had no hearing out of the ear Chuck was talking into. He had lost most of his hearing to youthful gunfire. George was a strong, 6-2" vice less, half-Athabascan, half German man who avoided overeating. He came from a family of eleven. The boys all hunted for food along the Yukon, Tanana, and Chena River systems in central Alaska in the early to mid-20^th century. The girls gathered berries and plants, gut, cut, and hung the fish to dry. Dad was an honorable man I learned to trust.

I loaded up the gear and Dad placed it where it belonged for a near perfect balance. We looked at each other, smiled, toasted with our water jugs. What an adventure this is to be! Dad informed me as we got into the craft that I would drive first. What! Alright! Are you sure? He assured me he trusted me, then asked me for the notes.

Being the brave, heavy construction, carpenter daughter of a power plant operator, there was no room for anything but bravado, so off we flew up the mighty Tanana River. I had never taken map reading, now wishing I had. I ran the Wild River in central Alaska which is a 125-mile river once, so I knew something of reading a river. We were 12" above the water, so no sandbars and no real influence of current, just protruding logs. We saw no boats. We would stop at Manley Hot Springs for the night. I missed the non-existent sign saying, "MANLEY HOT SPRINGS ENTER HERE". I noticed our Ford 460 hp AV-gas motor sputtering as though we were to run out of gas, so intuitively, I pulled her up on a beach.

Sure enough! Out of gas. Dad was as cool as a polar bear, calm as a Koala. I was totally freaked out, lept out of the craft, checked the tanks, not a drop in either, what to do?

I yelled "Help - Help!" thinking surely someone lives out here.

Dad popped his head out, looked around, got onto the ground, took a deep breath, and roared like the meanest grizzly bear anyone ever heard. The sound of his voice echoed in the mountains.

"Dad, that was amazing wow! Why did you do that? What are we going to do?"

"Just wanted to get someone's attention. Let's get some dinner and sleep on it."

My mouth dropped open and I threw my hands up. I was the chef, so I chefed up some grub. It was dusk, we got out our sleeping bags, my head at one end and Dad's at the other, when we heard a boat. I jumped up, grabbed the flashlight, tore out of the door, and flashed the river. Two young men in their 20's pulled ashore. I told them we missed the sign for Manley and both drew a slight smile.

"There's no sign! The river is about 5 miles back on the left. That's where we're going. We can bring you some gas in the morning."

Dad came out, gave them some money while telling them to get AV-Gas. They agreed to do so. Just as they were about to start their motor and head out, I asked them if they heard a loud "Help - Help" they both looked at each other and then at me shaking their heads.

"We were out hunting and thought we would track the Grizzly we heard in this direction."

"Oh, yeah. That was my dad!" I looked at him and he curled his lip slightly up and winked. I couldn't help but think I saw a twinkle in his eye.  The men headed out.

"Pretty impressive Dad." I said.

"I was impressed with your driving the hovercraft too. Get some sleep."

"Do you think they'll be back?" I asked.

"It's the law of the land." He assured me.

My first "George Moment" as I called his life's lessons.  

1)      Stay calm in dire moments of stress.

2)      Think ahead of your fear. Face Everything And Recover.

I snuggled down into my bag and chuckled myself to sleep replaying my pitiful "Help Help" over and over in my head. My lessons had been learned:

1)      I am no Cartographer, how do you read mountains on a map anyway?

2)      Ask people, who know the area, where, and how far to go!

3)      Trust your instincts.

4)      Roar like a grizzly when trouble befalls you in the bush.

5)      Always bring spare gas cans on a wild river run!

6)      Stay calm as everything works out in the end.

The next morning, I had just finished cleaning the breakfast dishes in the Tanana River. I could hear an outboard engine droning in the distance. Along came the men as Dad had predicted. I was impressed the guys had returned in such a timely manner.

They told us they would take us back to the Manley River so I could pick out my own sign. Mighty ‘bush' of them I thought.

:Dad, how did you know for sure they would come back besides being ‘the law of the land'?"

"Think about the bear that got away story vs how they rescued a Hovercraft and their pilots. Few, if anyone, have ever seen a Hovercraft in these parts, they have enough to talk about for a while.'

We loaded up and followed their boat. I lost sight of them once we hit the Manley River. I took a mental picture of the confluence trees, the position of the mountains behind the river entrance to create my "Sign". At the second turn, I was going too fast, while turning, when there was a sharp Right. I turned and then remembered how I didn't have enough forward-thrust for the speed and next we would be flipping over and over. The only way out was to add forward power before I could slow down, so I did. The bank of sharp left turn was coming in fast, but I slowed down slighty and turned in time to push the thrust to speed through until we arrived at the straight part of the river. We traveled as slow as I could sustain our lift the short distance to the dock at Manley River Gas Station and turned the key to ‘OFF'. My heart was still pumping faster than I would have liked. I let out a few slow, deep Yoga breaths, my Mom had taught me. Oh boy! I looked at Dad, he looked a bit pale, then said, nice landing. I laughed a bit and he smiled.

"Good Job!" Dad declared.

Dad ordered up some AV Gas, paid the man, and told us where the restaurant and hot springs were located. I saw the boat ramp and flashed on how I wanted to check the connections and the underbelly. I turned a hard right, pushed the control for some thrust and flew up the ramp. We flew a little way, I spun a 180 accidentally, like I knew what I was doing, and shut her down. I looked at Dad square in his light brown, blue- green eyes. I felt as though he was asking me "How did you do that?" but no verbal question, no outrage, no angry look. I got a tear balancing in my eye and started to explain what had happened and told him how sorry I was.

"You're getting the hang of this craft aren't you? So, what do you think of the Corsair so far, should we keep going or sell?"

The question stunned me out of my racing heart. The feeling of arriving at an unknown destination with such supposed grace, filled me with pride, especially since Dad was not the least bit bothered by the experience, so calm.

"Well, let's give it another day." I replied with a huge smile on my face. "Let's buy some gas cans."

"Now, why didn't I think of that?" Dad added to my smile.

 We looked at each other before we exited the Corsair, I swore I read his mind that this trip was going to be quite an adventure and we were both on board! A couple of chortles came out of us.

Should we ‘sell', HA! No way!

I felt as though I was getting to know my father in a whole new light at age 29. His eyes glimmered, before he gave his version of a smile. Very slight with his thin lips, which I inherited from both Mom and Dad. He is 74 years young. George was as easy as the breeze and lived an amazing life with this adventure as just one of hundreds in his time.

 "I think we're both going to figure this out." I said.

Let me buy you a restaurant-styled lunch and hot springs. "George Moment" He did love silly questions. He always kept me thinking there was more to what he said, a deeper meaning or a joke.

1)      When things get nerve-racking, pop a slight joke, ask a silly question, or keep your mouth shut so a person could think.

2)      Food and a hot bath tend to lighten the spirits anytime of day.

A few towns people in the restaurant and anyone within earshot, started to swarm. I asked Dad what he wanted to eat, he told me to pick something, and he would field the ‘Show and Tell.'

When Dad came in we saw our "Edge of Nowhere Hero-Rescuers" being served breakfast.

"Here are your breakfasts." That sure was some landing out there, who was driving?" The server asked.

"Well, that would be me." I stated quietly.

"Everyone will be talking about that for years to come. At first, I thought it was a new style jetboat. Someone said it was a Hovercraft; However, no one living here has ever seen one in "real life." We need new things to talk about around here. Thanks! What are your names so I might know more than anyone else?" Shirley asked us with those deep brown eyes flickering and her wide smile.

"This is my father George Motschman and I am his daughter Marie Motschman." I pleasantly replied as I dug into the meal.

I noticed Dad flirting with our server. Those waffles were so good - did you cook those? He stood up and motioned her to come closer. Dad whispered in her ear. He gave a slight nod of his head towards our "Edge of Nowhere Hero-Rescuers".  I later realized he was buying breakfast for four today, us and the boys. "George Moment!"

1)       Paybacks are not all bad. Take the opportunity to do so when the timing is right.

2)      Anytime is a good time to share your smile.

3)      It doesn't matter your age or the time of year, flirting is in season.

Dad pulled out a wad of cash and slipped her some money. By the look on her face when she counted it, all she could say was, "I'll be s right back sir."

"Call me George." Dad said.

"Alright George, I'll be right back." She purred.

"May I get you anything else?" She slipped out sweetly with rhythmic buoyancy to her voice.

"Yes madame, your name?" Dad coyly asked.

"Shirley," She replied.

Oh brother, I thought --- Dad is getting hit on! Cool! Mom and Dad had split the sheets and headed to different parts of Alaska some 26 years ago. He once told me how he would always love my Mother and never marry again. This man was attractive to any aged woman and he took full advantage whenever he had the chance. I knew I would have to give him some time alone now and then to "wet his whistle" as he referred to time alone with the smarter more delicate of our species.

When Shirley sashayed off, I looked at Dad and I swear his eyes were sparkling. I swore I saw a slight glow to his auric field! I do believe Shirley was glowing too.

Shirley returned with his change. He reached his hand out as he stood, she took it as an assistive gesture. As I watched Dad react, stone cold sober, he said,

"I still have the desire and the ability - to stay longer," he took a long, slow breath, "my daughter and I have a river to run. Another time, I will be back."

He kissed her on her cheek, gently took her other hand with the money, and closed her fingers around the cash. She smiled and started to walk away. He held onto her hand for but a moment. Shirley turned back towards us.

"Let's say hi to our new friends." I asked Dad.

Dad and Shirley parted ways and we went to our "Edge of Nowhere Hero Rescuers" table. I let Dad carry the conversation. I was getting antsy to get outside and get going.

"Take care gentlemen, thanks again." I said as I shook their hands.  "I'll meet you outside Dad!" I implored.

I walked out the door and saw a couple of cute men lingering and chatting about the craft. I could tell this machine was going to be a guy magnet. Yes, we do need to keep this aircraft as I visualized trolling for men anywhere the two of us might land.

We had fuel, gas cans, chocolate bars, and smiles on our faces, so we headed, slowly, down river. Dad had suggested that he drive for a while. I suggested I get him back to the Tanana River first, he agreed.

When we left the Manley River where it joined the Tanana River, I asked Dad how we would know when we are on the Yukon.

"You'll know when we hit the Yukon! Dad promptly stated.

Holy Moses, there was no doubt in my mind when we met the confluence of the Tanana and the Yukon when a huge river laid before us.

"Welcome to the Yukon and the Village of Tanana."  Dad stated as we pulled up on shore. I was slightly shaking when I disembarked. The Yukon was truly "Mighty." I was intimidated and glad to be on land. I had visions of the Mississippi in my head. We toured the Village of Tanana. Dad told stories of his younger days on the river to people passing by. Some shook his hand in remembrance and held conversations. We went to the cemetery. I couldn't help but feel dad was looking for names there. He told me a story of a childhood friend who had drown on the river. When we finally found his headstone, we laid wildflowers after Dad cleaned the weeds off the gravesite. Dad and I left after an hour. I never knew this part of Dad's life. His Dad was a riverboat captain and would take his sons with him on occasion. Apparently, Dad almost always accompanied him after his 8^th grade education was complete.

            We saw a couple of boats stuck on the sandbars down the river as we flew, we stopped by offering to pull them off, no takers. We pulled up at every little village along the way for a tour down memory lane for Dad, with an eye-opening experience for me.

I needed a nap. I suggested to Dad that he drive, so he did. I reviewed the two engine controls for lift and thrust and watched him for a bit, patting him on the shoulder, then passed out.  A series of "tick - tick -ticks", under the hull woke me up in mid-stride, as I raced to reduce the thrust before we flipped head over teakettle. I explained what was about to happen and how to avoid it later. We slowly moved forward, and Dad was feeling more confident and began to spend at least a couple of hours a day driving. We never made either of the potential flipping mistakes again.

            One night we pulled up along a beach, I cooked, cleaned, and stored our gear. Dad took a short walk with his rifle in hand. When we woke up the next morning, it was determined quickly that a huge grizzly had sniffed us in the night as the huge paw tracks, that laid before me, sent a chill down my back causing me to run and leap back into the craft.

"Dad, Dad, there are these humongous bear tracks right next to the Hovercraft. Did you hear anything last night? I exclaimed.

"I did see his tracks on my walk yesterday. They are fresh from an old Grizzly. Good thing our food is in a water and airtight container, or we could have been his supper last night. He was most likely drawn by our cooking."

"Do you want a granola bar for breakfast?" I asked Dad.

Just as I got done offering, a boat come up on the shore. We popped out our heads and he invited us to follow him to his Dad's cabin. We agreed and off we went about ½ mile. The father figure came out and Dad's eyes lit up as did the man coming to greet us.

"Well now, George Motschman how long has it been?"

"Near 5 years anyways." Dad offered.

"Marie, I want you to meet a very influential and important man in Alaska, Sydney Huntington Sr."

"Sydney, the first woman, union carpenter, and hovercraft pilot, my daughter, Marie."

I had no idea my father was so proud of me until that introduction. Dad beamed as Sydney shook my hand. It would be year's later before I realized just how influential and important this man was to Alaska. We eat Caribou knuckle soup and he gave us his brother's book, "On The Edge Of Nowhere." The book was about Jimmy Huntington's life on the lower Yukon near the Village of Kaltag, which Jimmy helped to found in the early 1900's. Dad and he talked story for about an hour, including discussing his pesky grizzly we were visited by the night before. They discussed Committees they had served on and men they used to know. We certainly feel how he came up with the name of his book. Out here, you get a real feel for how big, desolate, and dangerous Alaska's wilderness can be. I never knew Dad had so many stories. He rarely told me of his life but that day was a real insight.

We stopped by Ruby pulling up to Emmitt Peters who invited us for lunch fed by Emmitt's wife. We later realized Emmitt was our cousin. My grandmother was Mary Peters. They were extremely nice and were fascinated by our adventure. A couple of hours later, we were off to Galena. There sure are some Alaskan legions out here on the Yukon River! Such a fascinating people and what a great conversationalist my father can be.

We made it to Galena in the afternoon around 4 p.m. We were greeted by what turned out to be our cousins and offered my first fresh salmon eggs. When in Rome came to mind immediately. Having never eaten fresh salmon eggs, I had no idea how to go about the job. I watched Dad. Another ‘George Moment.'

1)       Avoid showing emotion when eating raw Salmon eggs.

2)      When in doubt, follow you parents' lead.

I didn't even gag or lose my lunch when I graciously stuffed a small fingerful of huge, yellow eggs in my mouth after watching others for a moment. The popping was alarming, but my face never showed a thing. I obviously was in the heart of Athabascan country of which I knew absolutely NOTHING! I began to realize what an urban native I was! This was Dad's stomping ground as a young boy. He knew the commander of the government base there. We were invited to dinner on post. Sweet, no fear of being bear bait tonight. We even slept In a real bed. Dad and the Commander had flown with the National Guard and had paled around the Seward Peninsula for a few years now. They had met on the Dew Line so many years before and worked together in the most treacherous parts of Alaska like Tin City. He regularly offered Dad flights to and from anywhere they happened to be at the time.

            The next morning, we flew a short distance to Nulato. The fanfare was not as much as Galena, but Johnny did come down to the water's edge. A young man in his 30's, He greeted Dad, nodded my direction and took us to his great-grandmother, the village elder. Martha Jo Peters was the revered elder of the town. She had raised most of the kids in the village and they all called her grandma. When Dad introduced himself, she sat back, smiled, and told him she remembered the day her sister, the village medicine woman, and their 11 children left town almost 70 years ago. My grandmother, Mary Peters Motschman was Martha Jo Peters' adopted sister. Martha Jo shared how Mary scared her with her medicine, but often was quite effective at saving their people's lives with the plants and roots she collected. Wow, what a small river! We listened to her talk of a time she remembered Dads' return to town like it was last year. It had been 50 years prior. Dad spoke very little and I not at all. It was another amazing ‘George Moment'

1)      When an elder speaks, you listen and never interrupt.

2)      He shares little of what he has and has not done with anyone unless asked specifically. I assumed it must be like bragging to the natives.

I always thought what you have done in your life were just facts of the past, Interesting tales and something to share. Not so much the native way of life.

I got the feeling that Dad was pleased he had finally returned to the place of his birth - Nulato, Alaska in 1911. It was dark as we returned to sleep in our cozy craft after our amazing visit with Martha Jo Peters -my great aunt, the Matriarch of Nulato. She had a hand in raising 9/10 of the kids in that village and a mind as sharp as a tack.

            Johnny had informed us that the winds had begun early this year. He hoped we had lots of gas cans as there were no places to gas up after the 47 miles to Kaltag for 85 miles to Unalakleet.

Dad noted his concern about flying in the wind and how the craft would be pushed around, drinking up all the gas, as we would have to literally sail the hovercraft South with the headwind offering no favor this time of year.

Dad understood, well before I did, that we were not flying Nenana to Nome; instead, Nenana to Nulato satiated him just fine. Never a noticeable concern, never a disheartened sound in his voice, he informed me we were heading back to Galena.

            The 50 miles flew by before we were back in Galena. We filled up with gas, though at the time, we did not realize the attendant was filling the tanks up with Diesel instead of AV Gas - BIG OOPs. That "little mistake" took a while to pump out clean the tank.

Dad told me that he had to fly back to Nome for a pre-arranged appointment and would send a plane for me as soon as he could. I was free to go to the barracks for lunch or spend the night. I also needed to empty the fuel tanks so tour the area and have ‘our cousins' show me around. It will be a good way to meet people. I totally trusted Dad and thought nothing of the fact he was abandoning me in Galena. I suppose it was a sign of his trust for me to succeed at any task put before me. He told me that If I needed help, I could go to the Commander. He left on the afternoon plane to Nome.

I thought of the cousins. It was easy to find them on the beach by their boats. I invited them on a ride and they eagerly accepted the offer. They showed me around the various sloughs. I spun broadies on the sand much to their laughter and amazement by all of us It was beautiful and peaceful here on so many levels. They introduced me to a man at the bar who could trailer the hovercraft to the airport. His friend said he had a crane that could lift the craft onto the flat bed. I was one lucky lady for sure. I slept like a baby that night.

The next morning, I walked around Galena meeting everyone I passed. I needed a job to pay some men to get the Hovercraft to the airport as there was no way I could fly it there. I found a job fixing all the broken items in a guy's house that I met on the road. It took a solid week that involved paneling, sheet rocking, taping, painting, cleaning, and a window installation, all for $200.00. Dad called the Base Commander and said he was sending a cargo plane to pick us up the next day. I rallied my men. The gas was as low as I felt comfortable with, the crane easily raised the craft from the water onto the lowboy trailer. They transported her to the airport and there we waited for over eight hours. All they wanted for pay were plenty of "Ole Pop" AKA Olympia Beer. I walked to town twice to acquire a six-pack at a time. I called Dad again when I was at the bar to determine the holdup. He said the plane was diverted to Koyukuk to drop off its cargo first. Good thing they did because when Jack backed up to the plane, there was only 4" to the deck, with 2" clearance all around in the cargo bay once the craft was loaded, Whew!

We landed in Nome well after dark. The tarmac was full of small planes. We slide the Corsair out of the back onto a 45-degree ramp. Half-way down, I noticed two skirts that were torn off, so I grabbed some wire ties and fixed the connections before we continued.

It took me 13 tries before I was able to fly the craft up onto a slight plateau of a tarmac. There were people who were ready to push the hovercraft away from other planes, but finally, in the dark, I got her up and put her to bed in a safe place. Whew!! I slept like a baby that night.

My father and I grew closer than ever during that fall of '86. I learned several ‘George Moments'. He figured the hovercraft would make a good gold-prospecting excursion machine. Now, that is another story!

In the end, we did technically fly our Hovercraft from Nenana to Nome!

(END)