For 30 years, Jeff Austin has been doing what at first almost appears impossible 鈥� folding his 6-3 tall frame into a tiny birddog airplane seat. 

Austin has been fighting fire from the air and the ground for 46 years, and over all those years, he has seen a lot of fires, and a lot of changes. 

When the Williams Lake River Valley erupted into a wildfire on July 21, 2024, it was Austin as air attack officer (AAO), alongside his birddog pilot Pete Loeffler, in the air, controlling what was happening from above. Austin calls this the aerial control team, and he and Loeffler have been in the cockpit of the Turbo Commander birddog plane together for 10 years. 

鈥淢y birddog pilot is key in the teamwork to organize incoming tankers and set them up properly in the airspace, we call it the stack, so I can bring them in to carry out my control plan,鈥� explained Austin. 

The air tankers are 鈥渟tacked鈥� by altitude, coming to action the fire in turn then moving out of the way for the next aircraft. 

The river valley fire, sparked when a tree struck a power line in the valley bottom, quickly roared up the steep slopes, stoked by extremely hot, dry and windy conditions. 

Flames were approaching the back of businesses, entering an industrial section of town, with an auto wrecker and gas station putting highly flammable materials in the fire鈥檚 path. 

The fire was what is referred to as an interface fire. Being in the very centre of a community, fires like this are complex, because there are a lot more considerations to take into account, from power lines and people to the large skycrane helping with the construction of the hospital. 

All of these things also have to be communicated with the pilots of the aircraft coming to work the fire. 

Firefighting aircraft work at low altitudes in order to put water and fire retardant on fires, so there can be a lot of hazards to consider, all while navigating around smoke columns and flames. 

In addition, on July 21, when the fire reached an auto wrecking yard on the edge of the valley, small explosions from fuel tanks and other flammables added one more factor for pilots to consider. 

When Austin first came overhead, his decades of experience and the more than 2,300 fires he has attended over the years, helped enable him to do a quick assessment and make an initial plan of attack. 

He knew immediately the fire had a lot of potential and he wanted to throw everything he could at it to hold it at the edge of the river valley. At risk on one hillside was the Tolko log yard and the entire Westridge subdivision, along the top of the other, downtown Williams Lake and Glendale, including homes and businesses. 

鈥淚nitial attack is key,鈥� said Austin, repeating the longtime firefighting mantra of 鈥渉it hard, hit fast.鈥� 

鈥淚t鈥檚 what I do, it鈥檚 what I鈥檝e always done,鈥� he said. Austin started out working on the ground, and he knows better than most, while air attack can be a key factor in the early moments of a wildfire, it is the ground crews who eventually put out fires. 

He calls air attack a 鈥渃ontrol factor鈥� to allow crews to get in and do their thing, but said nowadays both air and ground attack often have to be more aggressive than they once were. In the last 10 years, the forest fuels and fire behaviour, influenced by more extreme weather, have affected how air and ground crews can deal with wildfires.  

鈥淚t鈥檚 changed, there鈥檚 no doubt about it,鈥� said Austin. 

Jeff Austin grew up on a farm in Kersley and got into fighting wildfire as a young man, moving to the Chilcotin to work as a firefighter in Tatla Lake in 1981. 

He made his way up to air attack and said the change in perspective is one of the biggest contrasts in fighting fire from the ground. 

鈥淭he big picture is different,鈥� said Austin, noting from the air not only can you see the entire fire, but also the potential for what the fire might eventually impact. 

Another difference is in how quickly aircraft can change what the fire is doing. 

鈥淭he ability to effect the fire is exponentially increased,鈥� said Austin. 

As he watched the River Valley Fire erupt into the town he calls home, Austin knew his job, and he was able to do it well, though he stresses it was a team effort. 

He said he called for resources, and they were provided, as Cariboo Fire Centre worked behind the scenes to make sure he had what he needed. 

Darren Wilkinson was the regional wildfire coordination officer at Cariboo Fire Centre on July 21. This meant he was heading up things at the centre as Austin called in with information on the fire. Wilkinson also stressed the fire centre starts planning for possibilities at the beginning of each day, as they look at weather forecasts and predicted fire behaviour. 

The fire they saw that day was doing what had been forecast, with rank four and up to five fire behaviour, involving a fully engulfed forest canopy. 

Wilkinson said Austin was thinking strategically, and his foresight helped ensure the fire center would have what they needed as the fire progressed. Immediately, a unit crew was pulled from Antler Creek Wildfire, and prepped to work through the night if needed to make sure the fire, if held in the valley, would be able to be contained the next day. 

In a short amount of time, Austin and his pilot were coordinating five fixed-wing airtankers and five helicopters. He coordinated air tanker runs to drop retardant and water alongside the river valley, filling in between with helicopters dropping water with buckets. 

鈥淭hat鈥檚 a dance,鈥� said Austin of coordinating all of the aircraft, as they come in and out of the airspace. 

Pilots who have worked under Austin as the AAO said how professional and skilled he is at this dance. Austin is known for his ability to clearly and concisely explain what he needs each aircraft to do. 

For his part, Austin credits the coordinated efforts of all involved, including the fire centre and the fire department and ground crews, who were leading the control of road access to the area, and attacking the fire as it reached the businesses along Mackenzie Avenue in downtown Williams Lake. 

Currently semi-retired, Austin is uncertain of when he鈥檒l fully leave the birddog seat behind for fishing, but one thing is for sure, Williams Lake is very grateful he still squeezed himself into the seat on July 21, 2024.