Estimated reading time 11 minutes, 6 seconds.
Penny Daflos is the dedicated Chopper 9 reporter for CTV News Vancouver, part of a three-person aerial news-gathering team. CTV Photo
We were on a routine patrol in CTV Vancouver’s Chopper 9 news helicopter this past spring when I saw a fire progress from light smoke to full structural collapse in just half an hour.
Pilot Jim Stibbard had spotted a wisp of smoke and we made a beeline for it, arriving at a burning warehouse before Vancouver Fire and Rescue Services. We filed four live reports for CTV News at Six, barely pausing for breath.
We never know what we’re in for when Chopper 9 arrives at a scene, but one thing is certain: if it’s newsworthy, we’ll be on the air in minutes.
I’m the reporter on the three-person aerial news-gathering team at CTV News Vancouver. Our viewers are used to seeing dramatic images and quick reportage on our award-winning broadcasts, but they have little idea of the many hours of training, specialized equipment and complex coordination behind our coverage in the sky.
We fly every weekday during our 5 p.m. and 6 p.m. broadcasts. Most days we enjoy stunning scenery as we sweep around Vancouver’s glassy skyline and leafy suburbs, bordered by stunning mountains and water, hunting for breaking news.
When news does happen, we instantly kick into high gear. For the pilot and cameraman it’s straightforward: make a beeline for an address and scan the horizon for the first sign of our target.
The crew never knows what it’s in for when Chopper 9 arrives at a scene, but one thing is certain: if it’s newsworthy, they’ll be on the air in minutes. Gary Barndt Photo
It’s a little more complicated for me. We usually fly at 1,500 feet, the height of many cellular towers, which direct their signals downward. That means my cell service is patchy and I have trouble getting emails from our assignment desk, which is furiously working to confirm details. I often file a “say and see” report, describing the overall scope and impact or focusing on compelling details. It’s something of a dance with my cameraman: sometimes I lead and he shoots according to what I’m describing, other times he zeroes in on something and I complement his shooting.
I rely heavily on what the cameraman is focused on because I sit on the left side of the helicopter. Since we fly clockwise to give the pilot and photographer the best view of what’s going on, I see a lot of what’s happening on a 4”x3” monitor displaying the camera feed. My crewmates give me a running commentary as emails trickle through, and I scribble brief notes for a live report the producer needs in 90 seconds!
The pilot’s chair is usually filled by Stibbard or Jarrett Lunn, who’ve each flown hundreds of hours in Chopper 9 when not flying other missions for Talon Helicopters, including fighting forest fires and flying search missions for North Shore Rescue. Sometimes it’s chief pilot Kelsey Wheeler, our longest-running airman, who has piloted some of our most historic flights, including much of our captivating 2010 Olympic coverage.
Our photojournalists work in the back, surrounded by sophisticated broadcast equipment. Gary Barndt, Murray Titus and Pete Cline have shared Chopper 9 camera operation since the aircraft’s inception in 2004. They’ve each logged more than 1,700 hours manning the FLIR Ultramedia III stabilized camera system that is bolted to the belly of the aircraft, sitting atop a gimbal which has gyroscopes and motors to reduce vibration.
Chopper 9 flies high over the city every weekday during CTV News Vancouver’s 5 p.m. and 6 p.m. broadcasts. Penny Daflos Photo
Despite the specialized gear, it’s not easy shooting TV news from an orbiting helicopter.
“Compared to most of our work, which is edited into sequences, the Chopper 9 feed is broadcast live and we have to shoot more smoothly,” explained Cline. “It took us a while to learn the aviation side, and it takes a while for pilots to really learn our side.”
Stibbard agreed. “Forget about flying trim or in perfect circles. I think of it as flying the camera more than the helicopter.”
The broadcast equipment weighs more than 400 pounds and is strategically distributed for balance. When they’re in our single-engine Bell 206 L4 Longranger, the pilots think differently.
“Chopper 9 is unlike anything else because we’re not going to do a job, like move a cell tower or rescue someone,” said Lunn. “We’re there to watch and observe. I sometimes feel like a passenger.”
A passenger, but also an active news-gathering participant. Our pilots have caught the news bug!
“They think like camera guys, suggesting what would make a good shot,” said Titus. “They really enjoy the chase. They just strut around like peacocks when they get a great story.”
Despite the specialized gear, it’s not easy shooting TV news from an orbiting helicopter. Pete Kline Photo
Flying a news helicopter is also challenging. On top of constant radio contact with the control tower, our pilots often have to fly in tight orbits with other news-gathering aircraft as close as 300 feet above and below.
“I’m not sure what I fear more: contact with another aircraft or Murray’s fury if I get a skid in a shot,” joked Stibbard.
Sometimes, the big stories don’t happen during business hours. The 2011 Stanley Cup Riot maxed out the duty day for the pilot, with the team going until midnight.
“It was 4.5 hours of flying, following crowds around buildings and columns of smoke, with the added pressure of CTV NewsChannel and CNN taking it live,” remembered Barndt. “It was almost like following the puck: pick a detail like the police line and see where it goes.”
“Because we fly at night this is one of the few contracts that’s 24/7,” added Wheeler. “You get the call and have to say ‘Bye, kids!’ and off you go.”
Sometimes that call involves tragedy: an entire family dead in a car crash or a shooting in a busy tourist area.
“There are definitely days you feel the mood drop in the cabin,” said Lunn. “It usually sinks in afterwards.”
On those days, or when we hear about chopper crashes, it hits home how risky this job can be. It also flashes across my mind every time I don my inflatable life vest and I’m reminded of our underwater egress training, a harrowing day where we practiced swimming out of a simulated cockpit “crashed” in water.
“You have to just accept the risks and not think about them,” said Titus.
Every crewmember recognizes the camaraderie and teamwork that is evident during each flight. Pete Cline Photo
We usually focus on once-in-a-lifetime moments. Last fall, we flew to Vancouver Island to cover the search for an escaped emu. Seriously. En route, we stumbled on a massive school of dolphins, feeding and cavorting in the Salish Sea. After a breathless live report on the pod, we got to Nanaimo just in time to film the emu’s capture.
“The dolphins were unique, a real spiritual experience,” commented Titus. “But we never would’ve found them if not for the emu. We were meant to be there.”
I’m smiling as I type because that story sounds so surreal, but it kind of sums up this job. It can be stressful and unsettling when you’re being pushed around by wind whilst gathering your thoughts for a live report, but spotting grey whales and crushing the competition on a big story make up for it. So do the people on our team.
Every crewmember recognizes the camaraderie and teamwork that is evident during each flight—whether it’s a routine show patrol or a large-scale fire that has us filing report after report and scrambling for a hot refuel before launching to do it all over again.
We wouldn’t have it any other way.
Penny Daflos is a Vancouver-based broadcast journalist. She is the dedicated Chopper 9 reporter for CTV News Vancouver when she is not filing stories from the ground.
