Seasoned BC Hydro power line technicians Wes Nustad (left) and Curt Minard take a break from evaluating PLT boot campers at our Trades and Training Centre in Surrey.
Dangerous but rewarding, a career as a power line technician isn't for everyone
"What do you do when you're not climbing poles?"
That may seem an odd question to ask of a wannabe power line technician who has just made it to the top of a 30-foot power pole. But it's just part of the banter that occurs, informally and pretty much non-stop, in the training yard at our Trades Training Centre in Surrey.
The one up the pole may not yet realize it, but the way they handle such seemingly arbitrary questions will factor as much into their selection as a pre-apprentice power line technician (PLT) as their ability to climb a pole, solve complex mechanical problems or operate a boom truck. This is PLT Boot Camp, where pre-screened candidates are flown in – flights and hotels paid for – to be put to the test to determine if they've got the right stuff to become an apprentice on the way to becoming a journeyperson PLT.
"There's a lot of one-on-one between evaluators and candidates at boot camp," says Wes Nustad, a PLT from Williams Lake and regular evaluator at the two-day boot camp in Surrey. "Every evaluator brings something different. For me, I always try to get people off kilter, to see how they react in a stressful situation.
"Are you going to give me the answer you think I want to hear? We don't want followers. We want people who speak up, offer opinions."
Curt Minard knows all too well when hazards prevail and disaster strikes as a PLT after surviving a near-death electrical shock incident that cost him his left hand.
"My intention is never to scare candidates with my story," says Minard, now a foreman PLT and trades training instructor at the Trades Training Centre. "My intention is to inform people that this is one of the top 10 most dangerous jobs that you could pick. It isn't for everybody. This job comes with high risk and ever-evolving hazardous situations."
There was a time when the chance of a PLT dying on the job in B.C. was one in 10. But thanks to our safety-first culture, and evolving policies including the "Courage to Intervene" standard that was a product of Minard's harrowing incident, it's a much safer job today.
It's no surprise that Nustad and Minard see self-awareness and a team mentality as even more important than the job's list of academic prerequisites that include Physics 11, Math 11, and English 12. They also look for candidates who seem capable of embracing an apprentice training experience that requires long hours of physical work, often in driving wind, rain, and snow, and a considerable hit on family time.
"You spend more time with your line crew than you do with your family," says Nustad.
Seven evaluators weigh in on each candidate – including at least an hour of one-on-one time – before candidates sit for a final interview in front of a panel of three or four others on a PLT and trades training centre sub-committee. "You have to get past 10 people in order to do the job," says Nustad. "We have it structured that way to remove all individual bias from the program."
We bring in about 64 candidates a year for PLT boot camps and usually give the green light to about 28. Most are assigned to a trial year of training – anywhere in B.C. – as a pre-apprentice PLT. From there, an apprentice must spend 48 months working and training, paid at 75% the full journeyperson rate.
As Nustad and Minard chat, another candidate up a pole is asked what he thinks of the idea of working in Dease Lake, a way-northern town as known for its mosquitoes and black flies as it is for the fact that it's an 11-and-a-half-hour drive from the relative metropolis of Prince George.
"I love everything about Dease Lake," shouts the newbie from the top of the pole, setting off a chorus of laughter below.
Why work as a PLT? Interesting work, great pay, and close-knit teams
The paths Nustad and Minard took to becoming a PLT were decidedly different than the route taken by most of today's recruits – Nustad started with us as a meter reader, while Minard was inspired by two uncles who were PLTs in his native Saskatchewan. But the motivations are similar.
Both team members saw a chance to make a nice salary working outdoors in a job that's anything but mundane. The work around constructing, repairing and maintaining power lines, towers and underground systems varies from day to day, and there's a sense of pride attached to restoring power quickly in communities following storms and other events.
"There's always been a cool factor to line work," says Minard. "There are thrilling moments that can include working out of helicopters, working on towers, climbing poles, and being the person who's out in the middle of the storms, turning the lights back on when everyone's huddled in their homes with no power.
"These are things that attract a certain kind of person, similar to those who want to be firefighters. Not many want to do it, but those who do love it."
The job can be hard on the body, which is why the bulk of boot campers are in their 20s. But some of the best are in their 30s and even 40s, in part, says Nustad, because they have valuable experience working in challenging jobs with irregular hours. And about 5% of the 90 current PLT apprentices are women: "We have some pretty amazing female PLTs in the trade right now that came through boot camp".
Because we demand that PLTs learn to assert themselves to ensure everyone is working safely, most PLTs also tend to be on the more extroverted side.
"But there are those who are more introverted, too," says Nustad, speaking from personal experience. "I'm more of an introvert, actually quite a quiet person in my personal life. I wear two hats. There's 'work Wes' and there's 'private Wes'. I know that work Wes has to speak up, has to be extroverted. It takes a certain kind of person to thrive in that team environment, to be able to speak up, to be able to be confident enough to make the tough call, and to be humbled if they're wrong, to be able to be self-aware… to be able to say 'I screwed up. That was on me'."
Not everyone who doesn't make the cut at boot camp loses hope about becoming a PLT. It's not unusual to see candidates qualify for another shot, and BC Hydro mixes up boot camp challenges and testing to ensure returnees don't have a leg up on the competition.
Second time is not always the charm, however. Midway through our conversation, Nustad gets a phone call from a fellow evaluator that a repeat candidate has just turned in their gear and is heading home mid-camp.
"At the last boot camp, we had four drop out," he says. "This was their second camp, they did one event, threw in the towel, and said 'I just can't do it.'
"And that's why we have boot camp."