It was 1971 and I had 2 or 3 hours in my "new" 1946 Aerona Champ 7AC with large, smooth tires and an 85 hp engine (N3005E). I was a newly licensed pilot, and it was just before hunting season so my best friend, Jim Hansen, and I wanted to scout the Totatlinika Trail for moose and access. I loaded my rifle, a funnel, and 5 gal of 80/87 into the Champ and we were off! My previous flying experience was a pilot's license at 40 hours in a Cherokee 140 at Jeffco Airport in Colorado.
The airplane had a 13 gallon tank, and I was told it burned about 5 GPH. I watched our time as we flew from Fairbanks, and announced to Jim we had to return in order to have enough fuel reserve. Of course we had a headwind, and despite having enough fuel (in my calculations) to reach Fairbanks, my fuel indicator started to roll to "E" which made me very nervous. I kept staring at the guage and refiguring my fuel, and I knew I should be O.K.
Except, could the quick drain be leaking? Could the fuel line be leaking? Could the tank be dented and not actually hold 13 gallons? Could the engine be using 8 GPH instead of 5? All of the questions were flying through my mind, and I'd look down on the swamps which meant a major crash landing with no hope of recovering the airplane with a high probability of injury.
I told Jim everything, and we immediately headed for the Tanana River and looked for a silt bar to land on. We found a silt bar, probably as long as Fairbanks International, but it still looked dangerous with sticks and willows and logs everywhere. After the second pass I pulled the power and announced that was it, we would take whatever came. We successfully came to a stop, both jumped out and whooped it up. After relieving myself in the bushes (I was really scared after all) I put the 5 gallons in and we took off.
Turns out the gauge was not calibrated correctly, and I had had plenty of fuel.
The lessons were 1) I didn't know my airplane and its peculiar characteristics 2) I had done the right thing by landing with power before my engine stopped 3) Having extra fuel and funnel with chamois was a good thing 4) and it was possible to land on a silt bar and still live.
I can still see my final approach picture in my mind, the dry silt, willows and logs and silty river to my left. Sadly my best friend died in a PA-12 snowstorm crash in Windy Pass with another friend Gary Montgomery in winter 1974-75. Jim was a great friend, loads of fun, and although he got me into a lot of trouble I chuckle about the experiences now and am glad to have those precious memories.
That first off-airport landing will always be one of my brightest memories!