Chapter 9

 

Bolivia

After arriving in La Paz found the chief pilot of the Fomento had all the pilots he needed. Tried mining companies, but no luck. After six weeks went back to the Fomento and told them I would fly for free. Heard one of their pilots had a drinking problem. I started flying July 4, 1946. We flew C-46's known as Curtis Commandos. Thirty days later I made Captain at 600 a month. The Fomento also put in a paved road from Cochabamba to Santa Cruz and a six inch pipe line from the oil fields in the tropics to Cochabamba Bolivia used to buy all its meat from the Argentine, but Bolivia had thousands of cattle in the low lands with no way to get them out. A herd was driven to La Paz once and 90 % of it was lost at 16,000 feet so the best solution was to fly the meat out, because of the lack of roads. I could carry 17 butchered cattle at a time.

The Fomento bought cattle at 1.26 Bolivianos (3 cents U. S. currency) on the hoof and sold it butchered in La Paz at 6.30 Bolivianos (15 cents U. S. currency) a pound. I could carry 10,000 pounds of meat per trip and on a good day make three trips. We flew from La Paz through a mountain pass, 16,000 feet and on down to our field in the Beni, Reyes, 720 feet.

We also operated out of Cochabamba, altitude 8,432 feet and north of Santa Cruz we had a field, General Saavedra, altitude 1,148 feet. To build the road from Cochabamba to Santa Cruz the Fomento at first used pine from the state of Washington, but this was rather expensive and did not stand up in the tropics, so the Fomento set up a saw mill at General Saavedra and we flew mahogany to Cochabamba for the road.

On September 18 had to make a trip to Cochabamba and when I returned to La Paz, at the airport I was informed that I was the papa of a very nice girl. Rushed down to the Clinic to see Marion and then up to the American Counsel to register to make sure she became an American. Charlotte sure was a nice looking baby. Fat as a little pig. About this time Bolivia had one of its many revolutions. On a flight back to La Paz found the streets deserted with soldiers at the street corners. The revolution lasted four days. One afternoon three AT-6's attacked the city with machine gun fire and bombs. Afterwards the local paper said bomb had been dropped on the House of Congress and had it gone off it would have destroyed the building. Now I knew the AT-6 couldn't possibly carry a bomb that big, so I went up to La Paz to see the bomb. It was lying on the sidewalk with a huge crowd around it. When I got a look at the bomb, it turned out to be a 25 pound practice bomb and the pilot had forgotten to put the fuse in it. All the bomb did was knock a couple of bricks off the building. This was the revolution in which they hanged their president. Dad was kept quite busy, lots of wounded were brought to the Clinic.

On September 29 our chief pilot and I made a zero, zero take-off in the fog at La Paz. You couldn't see more than a block. I had read of such a maneuver, but this was the first time I had tried it in a land plane. Worked just fine. We flew in the clouds for about an hour along the Altiplano clearing the terrain by only 1,000 feet. This made me quite nervous as lots of the clouds in Bolivia have rocks in them. When the chief pilot saw I was bothered he asked me what I wanted and I said let's climb up to 16,000 feet. This he let me do and it made me quite happy. We went on to Cochabamba to pick up a group of entertainers and their baggage. They wanted to be flown to Corumba, a town in Brazil on the eastern side of Bolivia. We were renting our planes out at 8,400 Bolivianos (200 U. S. currency) per hour plus landing fees. The flight from Cochabamba to Corumba took three and a half hours. They had a lot more baggage than we had figured and there was quite an argument as to what we were going to take. We took it all, but was very overloaded. The runway at Cochabamba was only 5,000 feet long. Sure did have overheated engines on that take-off.

Maps for Bolivia were not too accurate. Going to Corumba we were above the clouds. One hundred and fifty miles from our destination I checked and according to my map the high point was 3,000 feet so we let down to 3,500. We broke out right on course but were quite surprised to see peaks 1,000 feet above us on both sides. After dropping off the passengers returned to Santa Cruz for the night. Met the airport cook, the Mad Russian. Years later read a book called Fate Is The Hunter. The pilot had flown into Santa Cruz during the war and spoke of the Mad Russian. Our chief pilot was an ex-Panagra and TWA pilot. Best mountain and instrument pilot I have ever flown with, except he couldn't see very well. He was 64 years old. On our return to Cochabamba he wanted to make the landing. As we made the approach he asked me if he was lined up. I said, No Sir, I'd move over to the left a bit. That he did and made the most perfect landing I have ever witnessed.

Made a trip down to Saavedra to pick up a load of lumber in October. When I taxied down the runway to the take-off area my left wheel sank into a soft spot and swung the plane 90 degrees to the left. The tail came off the ground and when it came back down and we stopped rolling I found out I had busted off the tail wheel and twisted the fuselage. Lucky for me I had a camera along so got good pictures. Took me a week to get to Cochabamba by jeep and Lloyd Aero Boliviano. The Fomento had paid 26,000 for the plane and the insurance company gave us 20,000 plus the old plane. Boy, you should have seen the spare parts we got out of it. What was left of the fuselage is now an airport cafe at Saavedra.

In November all the American pilots and mechanics had departed for the States except our chief pilot and me. So that our engines would start easier on the cold altiplano on shut down we would dilute the engines for four minutes. This is done with an electrical switch which pumps gasoline into the oil tank to make it thin. Our chief pilot on his last flight with Sangueza landed in La Paz and diluted the engines, but he did it for eight minutes. The co-pilot tried to stop him but without any results. The next day when I went up to the airport to fly I found the port engine frozen and you couldn't even move the prop so that engine had to be changed. The starboard engine turned over by hand so we changed the oil and it seemed to run fine. But when I went to make a test flight on the run-up at the end of the runway, the starboard engine failed, so had to change it too. By over oil diluting he had cost us two engines. After he departed I was made chief pilot. The Fomento now paid me 685 a month U. S. currency with passage back to Miami at the end of 1947. Now had Erick Rios, a hero of the last revolution, two co-pilots, Carlos Urieste and Angel Sangueza working for me.

The co-pilots worked out just fine and it was a pleasure to fly with them. I let them take off and make every other landing. The Fomento only paid Rios half of what I made, so had problems with him. Rios would publish in the La Paz paper that I wouldn't fly through the La Paz mountain pass on instruments which was quite true. One day he was coming back from Reyes and lost an engine just before he entered the pass on instruments. He was just able to turn around before hitting the side of a mountain. I flew in a new engine for him at Reyes. After that he and I got along just fine.

To fly to Reyes I usually climbed up to about 18,000 feet, headed through the pass and on to Reyes. The last row of mountains, 5,800 feet, were 50 minutes from La Paz. These I usually crossed at 8,000 feet. Our radio direction finder (ADF) did not work well until clear of the last row of hills, so I would have my radio operator at Reyes listen for me. When he would hear a plane overhead he would call me. "Captain Beck I hear you." On that I would make a let down and double back to Reyes after getting under the overcast. This system seemed to work just fine. One day I played a dirty trick on Rios. Sangueza and I had spent the night in Reyes. That morning we had a very low ceiling and I had radioed La Paz not to send a plane out until the ceiling had lifted a bit, but I heard that Rios had departed anyway. So Sangueza and I took off for La Paz, but we flew 90 degrees to our course until we broke out of the clouds at 10,000 feet way south of Reyes. Rios saw me way off to his right and figured that was where the airport was. Urioste told me later it took them over an hour and 30 minutes to find the field.

In January Rios flew to the States for a course with the FAA so I took over his Cochabamba run. Had Marion, Adrian, Charlotte and our maid with me.

The C46's had R-2800 Pratt and Whitney engines with superchargers that had a low and high blower. At sea level you took off in low blower pulling about 56 inches of manifold pressure. The engine was not designed to take off in high blower, but in order to take off at Cochabamba or La Paz, we had to use high blower.

One morning at Cochabamba (altitude 8,432 feet) Sangueza and I tested our engines at the end of the runway prior to take off and I put them both in high blower. As I made my take off run I was watching the cylinder head temperatures and not the manifold pressures. Advanced the throttle wide open and pulled 74 inches, then my co-pilot started screaming at me. "Captain look." I looked and I pulled the throttles back to pull 56 feet. Boy, 18 feet of overboost. I could have ruined two engines.

On January 21 returned to La Paz. Weather was not too good. Had to climb up to 19,000 feet to get above the clouds. Since my family had been living up in the altitude it did not bother them at all. My co-pilot and I had oxygen, but not the passengers. When we arrived back at La Paz it was raining cats and dogs. With ADF and by flying at 300 feet found the airport. I was going to land on the east west runway. Noticed a tractor at the other end of the runway and just as I was about to touch down the tower called "No aterisas" "don't land", boy, I looked down and saw I had a plowed runway. Added full power to both engines and called for gear up. My co-pilot was petrified. Grabbed his hand and put it on the gear handle and got the wheels up. Then called for flaps up a little at a time. Grabbed his hand again and put it on the flap handle. Should have raised the flaps myself because he dumped them on me. Boy we almost bought the farm. When I aborted it was towards a hill and I had to make a turn. Had to lower my nose to keep from stalling and almost took an Indian hut when I did. Marion said we came so close to that hill she could almost touch it. Picked up some speed and came around and landed on the other runway. An American Sergeant at the airport said afterwards I was plowing smoke two miles behind me. Had both engines wide open. Now a wave off at that airport at best is touch and go.

The Fomento bought me eight new engines. They got them war surplus for only 500 dollars each. They should have gotten 40 as a new one runs around 60,000 dollars. Since at La Paz and Cochabamba we took off in high blower, found our engines after 500 hours would use an excessive amount of oil so had to change them. About this time four P & W engineers from the States came down to La Paz to talk to us. They had heard what we were doing. They said their engines were not designed to take that kind of treatment, but went away well pleased.

One afternoon had to test fly one of our planes. Cranked up the starboard engine and then the port. Sangueza started laughing. "Captain Beck, look the wind she blows forwards." It sure was. The mechanics had put my prop on wrong. I got so made, went home and didn't fly that day. Next day, the wind she blows backwards.

The Fomento furnished me with a Dodge station wagon and a native chauffeur. He insisted in coasting all the way from our airport down to the Clinic. I could see the brakes fading on us one day. One day on the way home we met an Indian and donkey in the middle of the road. The chauffeur headed for the outside. No guard rail and a 1,000 foot drop. Grabbed the wheel and I put the Dodge between the Indian, donkey and the cliff. When we got to the Clinic I gave him a piece of my mind. He went back to the Fomento and told them I had fired him. To keep peace in the family the Fomento gave me the Dodge for my own personal use and that suited me just fine. Used aviation gas in my buggy. For our planes we got our gasoline from Talera, Peru in fifty gallon drums. At the high altitude we were living, 100/130 octane didn't burn the Dodge's valves at all.

One landing at Cobija on the northern Bolivian border was close. The runway was short with quite a grade to it, so had to land up hill regardless of the wind. One day I landed uphill down wind. Should have taken it around and tried another landing as I landed long. Had to brake hard. Sangueza started calling me. "Frenos Capitan." That means brakes, Captain. His voice kept getting louder and louder. I finally got mad at him and said, "Damn it, their locked." As it was we stopped two feet form the edge of the runway that had a fifty foot drop over the edge. Had we gone over we would have bent a C46. Took Sangueza five hours and two teams of oxen to get us unstuck and turned around. The cargo I was flying was beer from La Paz.

Had another narrow one leaving Cobija with my empties. Had a squall to the left of us and I was anxious to get off before it hit. Was well airborne and called, gear up, but Sangueza was busy watching the squall, and didn't raise the gear. A wind shear hit us and slapped us back on the ground. We just did become airborne beyond the end of the runway. Went through a bunch of bushes. Had Sangueza picked up the wheels when I called gear up, we would have all slid into a ravine, bottles and all. I recon St. Peter didn't want me just yet. Later, Sangueza said "That sure was some take off."

On another trip to Cobija, the weather was bad so flew to Reyes for it to improve. When it had lifted to 600 feet figured I could make it. Half way between Reyes and Cobija at the river, Madre de Dios, the ceiling dropped down to the ground and on instruments I went. I had a barometric and radio altimeter. Thought I was clearing the terrain by 1,000 feet. We had entered an area where the temperature and pressure had dropped. I had gone into a gradual descent. Didn't notice that my co-pilot had changed the scale on the radio altimeter so that when I thought I was at 1,000 feet I was flying at 100 feet. Boy was I surprised when I broke out in the clear and found myself flying just above the tree tops. Now that's for the birds. Sure learned one from that.

The land around La Paz is not too stable. During the rainy season there are many mud slides called "masamoras." On a trip up to the altiplano to fly I passed an Indian woman washing clothes along side of the road. On the return trip from Reyes found that the woman had been buried along with a truck carrying 24 people. They found her a week later, but the truck and the 24 were never recovered.

The Fomento hired an American mechanic, Red Gallent. He sure knew his engines. He used to tell me, Frank stop worrying about the plane. As long as the engines will run, it will drag the rest of it with it. Quite true.

One day down at Reyes the airport manager, Ned Campbell, asked me if I would mind flying out a load of hides. I said, no, just load them on. When Sangueza and I got aboard, I couldn't believe my eyes. We had a million flies. When I got to the cockpit I suggested we put on our oxygen masks. Sweat poured down our faces. Landed back in La Paz and Red met us. Opened my window, pulled off my mask and said, "We made it." That was the wrong thing to do. I swallowed a fly. Heaved and heaved but couldn't get rid of him. Could feel him bouncing against the walls of my stomach. Rushed over to a "Cantina" and drowned him with a bottle of beer. That sure stopped him.

Ned Campbell one night sent out a party of 30 men with flashlights and rifles. They killed over 1,000 crocodiles at a lake 14 miles north of the airport. The Fomento got a dollar for the hides.

At Reyes an Indian boy bugged me for some time to buy his snake skin. I finally bought it. It was a boa constrictor that measured 30 feet. Some snake took Dad to Reyes on a trip. He had never been in that neck of the woods. On the way back we went by Mt. Illimani, and he got some fine pictures. The most beautiful sight I have ever seen was to pull out of Reyes on a clear day and see miles of snow capped Andes.

When I was in Bolivia I used to fly right down the middle of the mountain passes. One day I saw a Lloyd Aero DC-3 going through a pass hugging one side. On getting back to La Paz I asked the pilot why. He said, Capitan what would you do if you lost an engine and had to turn around. Next day I went through the pass hugging one side. This paid off on a trip back from Reyes. As I entered the pass at 16,000 feet hit a down draft and had to turn around. Tried it again at 17,000 and had to climb up to 19,000 before I could make it through.

A very wealthy man, Aramayo owned a gold mine, Tipuyani, on the eastern slopes of the Andes. He hired Red Gallent away from us at 100 more a month. Also offered me a job flying his DC 3 at 800 for three years. Sure was tempted to take it.

On two different occasions the Fomento gave me a week off. On one trip Marion, Adrian, Charlotte, Red Gallent and wife, Shorty Berger and wife and I drove down to Chulumani 75 miles east of La Paz in the Yungas. This is a subtropical region down at 3,000 feet. Very nice trip. On another trip we all went out to Copacabana on Lake Titicaca for a week.

An engineer, his 16 year old daughter and ten employees from Aramayo wanted a flight to Tipuyani. Their plane was flying to a mine of theirs in southern Bolivia. The airport at Tipuyani was too small for my C45 so I tried to take them to another airport 20 miles southeast of Tipuyani. I circled the airport at 8,000 feet to figure out an approach. This airport was in a boxed in canyon. Just as I had the airport in sight over some hills I knew if I landed, I would never get the plane out, so aborted. Got my gear and flaps up and flew just above the river below the tree level. Sure was tempted to set it down right on the water. If I had a seaplane I would have. The river made a 90 degree turn to the left. With full power on made the turn at 180 MPH. That turn went just fine. But the river doubled back 180 degrees. With hard right ailerons and rudder I overshot my turn. Had to climb up over a cliff. Speed dropped down to 87 and was just about to drop my flaps when we cleared the terrain. Boy, my heart pounded for half an hour. For years later, I would dream I didn't make it.

Took off from Reyes one morning with a load of meat for La Paz. A "suraso" cold front was about to arrive from the Argentine. As I flew towards la Paz the weather closed in behind me. Just did make it through the pass south of Illimani. Then found myself flying up and down the river of La Paz with no way out. It was socked in all around me. Almost put it down in the river bed, when a bit of blue sky came through on the altiplano and I slipped through just ten feet above the ground.

The vice president of Braniff came to La Paz and I got to talk with him. He said he was pretty sure his company could use me, but when I submitted my application found out I was one year too old.

On one of my trips to Reyes a farmer 60 miles northeast of Reyes wanted me to fly out rubber. They were made up in fifty pound balls. I tried 10,000 pounds, but his field was so soft, and I got stuck so many times I was only able to take out 500 pounds.

We had an old Englishman that lived in Reyes that had come to the Beni region during the rubber boom in World War I. He told me quite an interesting story. In his younger days he would take three mules to Rurrenabaque, 12 miles southwest of Reyes cross the river Beni and go up the river Tuichi to a lake and pan gold on the hills above the lake. He said in three months he could pan eighty pounds of gold. Then he would take his gold and mules to Brazil where he had wine, women and song until he ran out of gold, then back to Reyes he would go. He repeated this venture several times. To check his story, I flew up the river Tuichi and found the lake he spoke of. Now there could be gold in them there hills.

One day in La Paz a man came up to me and wanted to fly Brahman cattle from Lima to Santa Cruz. After I left Bolivia I found out that many Brahman cattle were flown into Bolivia to improve the stock.

The meat that I flew up from the Beni didn't have a very good taste. It was quite gamy tasting. My company had me fly in tons of salt taken from Lake Popo, to try and improve the taste.

Only once while I was flying in Bolivia did I ever have to return to Reyes with a load of meat. The one time I couldn't make it to La Paz because the Andes was socked in, they strung the meat out to dry and it was sold as jerk meat.

On one trip up from Reyes I sure was rough on some of my passengers. The weather was bad at the passes. Tried to make it by Illampu and had to climb up to 21,500. Urioste and I had oxygen but they didn't. Sent Urioste back every five minutes to check on them. After 20 minutes found a hole in the clouds and was able to make it to La Paz. Poor passengers had bad headaches as I had brought them up from the low lands and they weren't used to the altitude.

Had an offer in November of 1947 to fly PBY's between Grand Cayman and Tampa. They were flying out turtle meat. This seemed like a good job so I took it.

For the trip home, Marion, Adrian, Charlotte and I took the train to Tiahuanacu on Lake Titicaca, then an all night boat trip across the lake to Puno. At Puno a custom official gave us a hard time. We had taken into Bolivia a Roger Brother dinner set that had been given to us in the States. I know that you were not supposed to take silver into or out of Peru so I had hid the set in Charlotte's diapers, but he found it. Marion was almost in tears. He said he would have to take it. I told it had come from the States and we were returning to the States. He then said we were to be fined 1,200 soles ($100 U. S. currency), so then got the picture. Slipped him 12 soles under the table and he passed us right through customs. Roger Brothers dinner set and all.

The trip from Puno to Arequipa by train took all day. A very picturesque trip. Then a Faucett DC-3 to Lima. A Panagra Dc-3 to Guayaquil, Quito, Cali, and on to Panama. The trip to Quito was very pretty and interesting. I had never been there before and had wanted to see it. Out of Quito towards Cali over the Andes had an engine miss. Marion got quite concerned. Would have been a bad place to sit down. At Panama took Pan Am's DC-4 to Jamaica, Havana and on to Miami. Got our 1941 Ford out of storage. The man that had my car cranked it up once a month while we were in South America so it ran just fine. On arriving at Tampa found the two-bit airline I was supposed to work for had folded the previous day. Too much trouble to return to Bolivia. Now I had a problem. Needed to find myself a job.