As the devastating Los Angeles fires stretch into their second week, a small army of firefighters has descended on the area, along with eight C-130 aircraft activated by U.S. Northern Command.
36-year-old Mitch Hoke pilots one of those C-130s for the Wyoming Air National Guard and has been in the LA area since Saturday, on alert for any new fire activity that may spring up.
The self-described “airplane nerd” agreed to chat with HuffPost about what goes into a drop.
The number of drops a plane can make varies greatly from fire to fire and day to day, as winds shift and fire conditions change. Hoke once worked on a fire in Oregon that required him to fly almost an hour before he could reach the blaze. He said the Los Angeles fires are much closer to an air tanker base, so round-trip flights could take 20 to 30 minutes.
Hoke’s C-130 — a model nicknamed “Hercules” for its impressive strength and size — has been equipped with a Modular Airborne Fire Fighting System, or MAFFS. On the ground, a small army of people preps the plane for another run, loading it with 3,000 gallons of the hot-pink fire retardant known as Phos-Chek. (The color is intentional ― you want to make sure you can see where it lands.)
Iron oxide in the suppressant gives it its distinct red color. Other key ingredients are water and ammonium phosphate. The retardant ”decreases fire intensity, and slows the advance of the fire,” according to the U.S. Forest Service, even after the water has evaporated.
Air drops of Phos-Chek are meant to buy time for firefighters on the ground, so crews with firefighting axes known as Pulaskis or bulldozers can get in and physically cut back vegetation to contain the fire.
“The problem down here with the winds is they couldn’t get crews into those places,” he said, “or the fires are moving so fast it would jump over those lines.”
In the air, a crew of six keeps the plane operating smoothly.
There are two pilots, a flight engineer, a navigator and two loadmasters on each C-130. The flight engineer takes care of the plane’s fuel systems, electrical systems, “all that stuff,” Hoke said.
Navigators play a critical safety role listening to all the radio traffic from other planes in the area and thinking about terrain and exit strategies after the drop. Loadmasters, meanwhile, are responsible for the cargo in the back ― in this case, the fire suppressant.
“They’re arming it. They’re there so if anything goes wrong, they can fix it. They have an emergency dump trigger so they can dump it if anything goes wrong with the airplane,” Hoke said.
And then comes the drop itself.
There are strict rules for aircraft operating in and around a fire to make sure everyone’s flying in a predictable manner. Pilots first get clearance from a lead plane that stays with the fire most of the day and coordinates attacks, communicating with crews on the ground and making other tactical decisions.
The lead plane will typically fly through the area first, signaling where the Hercules should drop the retardant with a puff of smoke and instructions on the radio, like, “Drop it at this bend in the road, or follow this ridgeline,” Hoke said.
Hoke and company maneuver their 140,000 pound aircraft over the fire, traveling at 130 knots (roughly 150 mph) and flying at least 150 feet above the ground. Then, they discharge the plane’s full 28,000-pound load of slurry out through a tube near the left rear of the aircraft, all of it gone in under five seconds.
“It’s challenging because you’re trying to correct for the winds all the time as well as how your flight path is going to change,” Hoke said. “It can be extremely challenging to put it in exactly the right spot.”
After the drop, Hoke’s crew will get feedback on their accuracy from the lead plane, which peels off to watch the drop. The lead plane’s crew say things like “good start, but it drifted this way so next time drop it 50 yards to the left,” Hoke said. “It’s a team effort with that lead airplane to put it in the right spot.”
In addition to the hazards of flying low over variable terrain, the fire poses its own dangers. A raging inferno can have updrafts so powerful they blow sticks and other debris up into the air. Worst case, that can knock out an engine. And smoke can physically obscure pilots’ ability to see.
“This is by far the most dangerous thing that we do,” Hoke said. He said he’s been deployed to the Middle East and Africa, including Afghanistan, but had to rack up 800 hours of flight time in the C-130 to even apply for the firefighting program.
People flying drones in restricted airspace is also a huge concern, particularly in LA, where paparazzi have been hungry for shots of destroyed celebrity homes. One such drone collided with a firefighting plane last week, damaging its wing. All firefighting aircraft were grounded for half an hour while officials cleared the area.
“If we hit a drone and it got sucked into an engine, it would be an extremely dangerous situation,” said Hoke. “To be that heavy [with a full load] in high winds, with lots of downdrafts, you really want all your engines working.”
Flying a drone amid firefighting efforts is a federal crime punishable by up to 12 months in prison and a fine of up to $75,000.
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Dangers aside, Mitch said he really enjoys the work. He hopes people realize how much coordination goes into the effort and “that it’s not just firefighters going out there and winging it.”
“It’s the coolest flying you can do in an airplane,” he said, reflecting on his favorite parts of the job. “There’s also definitely a sense of pride in playing a small part in protecting people’s homes. Everybody who does this takes a lot of pride in the work.”