Crossing the Border

The day of my transition into Canada was THE most stressful of the trip so far.

Not because of the weather - it was gorgeous. Sunny, cool but warm, not too windy. Not because of the thermals, which felt like an elevator at The Tower of Terror. No, nothing to do with flying. It had to do with the online administrative process of getting into Canada on a private aircraft.

On foot, in a car, out at an airport you show up, the customs agent looks without expression and asks something about having nuclear weapons or too much money with you and, after looking at your passport and staring into your eyes, let’s you on your way.

Not so in a tiny airplane. That requires four administration procedures and approvals before you even get off the ground:

1. One to the U.S. requesting clearance to leave the country on a system called eAPIS, which can be submitted any time as long as it’s at least one hour before the flight.
2. One to Canada’s Border Services Agency through their CanPass program, proclaiming your intentions a minimum of 2 hours but not more than 48 hours before the flight.
3. Another to Canada verifying your personal compliance information like vaccinations, license and registration numbers though a mandatory app called ArriveCan within 72 hours before the flight.  
4. Before take-off, a flight plan must be filed, a requirement in Canada. That entails submitting answers to 27 questions about the plane, navigation, and passengers.

The  phone call to CanPass and the flight plan, which I entered through my normal process, went easily. ArriveCan and eAPIS were frustrating ordeals. Both rejected my inputs for wrong formats, incorrect selection of options, and basic password hassles. I finally got through the Canadian process late the night before, and since I ran into more road blocks with the U.S. system, postponed trying again to the next morning.

Being refreshed and to the airport early made no difference. The U.S. eAPIS system gave me fits as I learned how to navigate it’s flow and provide the proscribed response. In one section it would not let me enter my name in the given field, so when I tried to hit “submit” it would kick back telling me to provide my name. No obvious reason for the block, and no phone number to call for help. In trying though other published CBP phone numbers, I finally found someone who knew about eAPIS. He really had no idea why it was behaving that way, and finally recommended I shut down my browser and try again. When I had tried that the night before, it would not let me back in with my password. Finally, after more than an hour of trial and error I broke through and got my clearance - five minutes before the one hour before flight time deadline dictated by the CanPass and flight plan submissions. Kind of like one of those chef baking shows, with a hand-clap and jump-back from the finished product, followed by a loud exhale. Sweaty palms with high heart rate and blood pressure. 

From there the fifteen minute flight to entry point Kingston went smoothly, with patient traffic controllers (some of the procedures and terminologies are different from the U.S.) guiding me to the right place on the field from which to notify CanPass (thankfully, again by phone) of my arrival. From that phone call I got a confirmation number that I was to keep in case anyone asked if I was authorized to be in the country. Done. Good to go.

Looking for a flight instructor I might spend just a short time with to go over some of those different procedures, go over some charts, and share my plans led me to the Kingston Flying Club. In Canada, a flying club is a charity, funded in part by the government. Nice facilities with some hired staff. Nothing like our all-volunteer club with three hangars and four airplanes.

Finding one, we were joined by the clubs volunteer vice president, who took over the conversation. The flight instructor couldn’t get a word in edgewise, left only to look on. But they were most gracious and helpful, adding some recommendations on alternate flight paths I might choose. Pooring over the charts, the most strongly advocated option was to head up the NE coast of the bay, rather than over the land bridge between the bay and Lake Huron as I had planned. That would allow me to fly to a small town situated on a channel separating a peninsula from George Island called Killarney.