Resurrecting a Legend: The Final Journey of the Philippine Mars
Late last year, I found myself chasing an aviation adventure in a wet, overcast, and very green corner of the Pacific Northwest. The destination was Port Alberni, a small town on Vancouver Island, British Columbia. Just down the road on Sproat Lake sat the world’s largest airworthy seaplane—the last of its kind—getting prepared for one final journey to become preserved.
It wasn’t an easy trip from Texas to Sproat Lake, but it was now or never as this aircraft’s last flight drew near. My motivation for making the journey goes back to 2016, when I stood at EAA AirVenture Oshkosh and watched in awe as this enormous red-and-white flying boat demonstrated its ability to drop 7,000 gallons of water in front of the crowd. That airplane was none other than the Martin JRM Mars, a World War II–era transport turned firefighting icon of the West Coast.
Only seven Mars were ever built for the United States Navy between 1945-1948, each carrying its own unique name. By the mid-1950s, the jet age and post-war aviation progress rendered them obsolete. They were destined for the scrap heap—until a Canadian company, Forest Industries Flying Tankers (FIFT), purchased four airframes and a warehouse of spares, converting them into aerial water bombers. The Marianas, Caroline, Hawaii, and Philippine Mars quickly became firefighting icons in British Columbia.
Unfortunately, tragedy reduced the fleet early on. Marianas Mars was lost in a 1961 crash that claimed four crew members, and Caroline Mars was damaged beyond repair just a year later when a powerful storm struck while it was parked in Victoria. That left Hawaii Mars and Philippine Mars to shoulder the mission for the decades that followed. Both aircraft, along with their dedicated crews, fought wildfires valiantly for many years under FIFT before being acquired by Coulson Flying Tankers in 2007, which continued to operate them until their retirement in the 2010s.
With their firefighting careers now effectively over, both aircraft were eyed for preservation. In 2012, Philippine Mars was repainted in its original US Navy colors, intended for display at the National Naval Aviation Museum in Pensacola, Florida. Unfortunately, the deal fell through, and the airplane sat quietly in the corner at Coulson’s base for years. Hawaii Mars, meanwhile, became a sensation at the 2016 EAA AirVenture Oshkosh convention, performing multiple water drops and wowing the crowds—myself included. After the show, Hawaii Mars returned to Sproat Lake, where it remained dormant for another eight years.
It was in 2024 that things changed for the pair. Coulson announced that Hawaii Mars would be donated to the British Columbia Aviation Museum in nearby Victoria, while Philippine Mars was selected for display at the world-class Pima Air & Space Museum in Arizona. When Hawaii Mars eventually departed later that year in August, Philippine Mars became the lone giant on Sproat Lake, still wearing her striking blue US Navy paint. Soon after, word spread that Coulson’s crew had shifted their attention to prepping Philippine Mars for her retirement flight, and taxi tests soon followed. That was enough to convince me—and a couple of friends from Georgia and Texas—to make the trip in late November.
What we witnessed over the course of five days was unforgettable. The Coulson team—a mix of current and former employees—worked tirelessly in the rain, fog, and cold to bring the Philippine Mars out of its long slumber. We watched its four Wright R-3350 Duplex-Cyclone engines thunder to life, saw it perform step taxis across the lake, and were even welcomed aboard for a look at its cavernous interior and sprawling flight engineer’s panel—the largest I have ever seen.
Locals greeted us with unmatched hospitality and bittersweet pride as this community icon was being prepared to depart the area for good. One Sproat Lake resident even ferried us around multiple times in his 1973 boat, affectionately named Big Greenie, giving me and my friends the opportunity to capture many of the photos and videos you’ll see in this post. Everywhere in town, the Mars was celebrated—on hockey jerseys, murals, and shop walls. Over the decades, many residents had been directly impacted by these giant aircraft, their homes and lives saved from ferocious wildfires. It was abundantly clear that the Mars was more than a point of pride for the local people. These aircraft stood as symbols of Canadian ingenuity, teamwork, and heroic firefighting efforts, and in many ways, the Martin Mars put Port Alberni and Sproat Lake on the map for the rest of the aviation world.
Five days had passed, and it was time for us to start our trek home. The airplane was still experiencing mechanical gremlins and the typically poor weather conditions winter brings to the region, but the team pressed on. In February 2025, the Philippine Mars finally departed Sproat Lake for good, stopping in San Francisco at its former home of NAS Alameda before reaching Arizona shortly after. Over the course of several months, she was carefully disassembled on land, trucked to Tucson, and reassembled at the Pima Air & Space Museum—where she is now proudly displayed as of this month for generations to come.
