Nine Years Old, Alone in the Bush: A Child's Survival After a Plane Crash
When the Cessna 206 went down in northern Saskatchewan, Aila Thunderchild was the only one to walk away. She was nine. She spent two nights at the crash site before a search team reached her.

The Cessna 206 carrying four people from La Ronge to a fishing lodge on the Churchill River system went down in heavy snow on the afternoon of November 14, 2024. The pilot, the lodge manager, and a guide were killed on impact. The only survivor was a nine-year-old girl named Aila Thunderchild, who was traveling with her uncle, the lodge manager, to spend the weekend at the camp.
She spent two nights at the crash site, alone, before a Royal Canadian Air Force CC-130 Hercules located the emergency locator transmitter and a ground team reached her by snowmobile.
The story has been told carefully, and at her family's request, in only limited detail. What follows is drawn from a Transportation Safety Board summary, a community statement issued by her family in early 2025, and a single interview Aila gave to a Cree-language radio station in Prince Albert when she was eleven.
The aircraft came down in a stand of black spruce about 90 kilometers northeast of La Ronge. The impact sheared off the right wing and the tail. The cabin remained partially intact. Aila was in the rear right seat, restrained, and was thrown forward against her seatbelt but not ejected. She had a broken collarbone, a deep cut above her left eye, and several cracked ribs. She did not lose consciousness.
The pilot's emergency locator transmitter activated on impact. The signal was received by a satellite within minutes and relayed to the Joint Rescue Coordination Centre in Trenton. The weather, however, was at the edge of what rotary-wing aircraft could fly. A Hercules was launched from Winnipeg. Ground teams from La Ronge and from Aila's home community of Lac La Ronge Indian Band were mobilized in parallel.
She kept herself awake for as much of the first night as she could. She has said that she sang quietly to herself, songs her grandmother had taught her, because the silence was harder to bear than the cold.
Aila understood that her uncle was dead. She has said in interviews that she checked on the three adults in the aircraft, found none of them breathing, and then made a series of decisions that she attributes to her grandmother, who had taught her about being in the bush since she was small.
She stayed in the aircraft. She wrapped herself in a sleeping bag from the cargo area and in a down parka that had belonged to the guide. She did not light a fire, because she did not have a way to do so safely and because she was worried about fuel from the aircraft. She drank from a thermos of tea that had survived the crash and, when that was gone, she ate snow in small mouthfuls, holding each one in her mouth until it warmed.
She kept herself awake for as much of the first night as she could. She has said that she sang quietly to herself, songs her grandmother had taught her, because the silence was harder to bear than the cold.
The Hercules made its first pass over the area at dawn on the second day, picked up the ELT signal, and circled until ground teams could be vectored in. The snowmobile team reached the site late on the afternoon of the third day. They found Aila sitting upright in the rear of the cabin, conscious, and able to tell them her name and her uncle's name.
She was evacuated by helicopter to Saskatoon, where she was treated for her injuries, hypothermia, and dehydration. She was released to her family after eleven days in hospital.

The community has been protective of her in the years since. There has been no book, no documentary, no television interview. The family asked that she be allowed to grow up. The local school adjusted her schedule for two years to accommodate counseling. Her grandmother, who is in her seventies, has spoken publicly only once, at a community gathering, and only to say that the child had been listening when she was taught, and that this was what teaching was for.
Aila is now eleven. She lives with her parents and two younger brothers in the same community she grew up in. She is, by the account of a teacher who spoke to a regional newspaper on background, a quiet and capable student who is interested in biology and in beading.
She has not flown again.
The Transportation Safety Board investigation concluded that the crash was caused by a combination of weather, pilot decision-making, and a failure of the de-icing system on the wings. The pilot, an experienced bush flyer, had been operating at the edge of his certification and the aircraft's capability. The board issued three recommendations on northern weather reporting and on regional carrier oversight. Two have been implemented.
The story is sometimes told, in aviation safety circles, as a story about a child who survived something most adults would not have. People in the community tell it differently. They tell it as a story about a grandmother who taught a child what to do in the bush, and a child who remembered.
Aila herself has said only one thing about the experience in any public venue. She told the Cree-language radio interviewer, when asked what she had thought about during the two nights alone, that she had thought about her grandmother, and about a dog the family used to have, and about getting home. She did not say anything else, and the interviewer, sensibly, did not press her.
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Marcus Bell
Marcus Bell writes for The Shoreline on stories worth sitting with.
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