2005 03 patterns in the sky

VINTAGE INSTRUCTOR

THE

DOUG STEWART

Patterns in the sky I was fl ying some pattern work the other day in my Super Cruiser.

Sharing the pattern with me was another pilot in an Aeronca Champ. The airport was a midsize, nontowered county airport, serving a large variety of aircraft.

In the pattern at this airport, it is not uncommon to find small tailwheel aircraft, as well as many of your typical general aviation (GA) training aircraft, an assortment of corporate and air-taxi aircraft ranging from light twins up through King Airs, to a handful of G4s and their brethren, all burning kerosene and missing propellers. Added to the traffic mix is an occasional helicopter.

Because this airport has some of the lowest 100LL fuel prices for miles around, it is not unusual to have numerous aircraft approaching from all corners of the compass. If ever there were a place in the airspace for proper procedures, this airport, particularly on a good weather type of day, is it!

Please do not misconstrue what I have said about proper procedure and think I believe it is important in the pattern. Proper procedures are required regardless of the type of airspace in which we fly. It is just that at those airports that serve many aircraft, having a vast dichotomy of aircraft performance, as this airport does, if we don’t all adhere to a standard set of procedures, the stage is set for

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MARCH 2005

chaos to rule. And it would seem that many pilots are oblivious to what those procedures are. This particular day was one of those.

Let me share with you an experience I had that day.

To begin with, I heard the following announcement on the CTAF (common traffic advisory frequency). “Columbia County traffic, N12345” (I’ll use fictitious tail numbers for this article), “is on a 4-mile final for Runway 3.

Any other traffic, please advise.”

Well my immediate thoughts were for the safety of the pilot in the Champ. He was in a NORDO (no radio) airplane. Not only was he unaware of the aircraft out there on the straight-in final, but he also was certainly unable to advise the pilot of the inbound aircraft.

So here were two pilotsoblivious of each other.

I really wasn’t too worried about the pilot of the Champ. He has been flying his airplane for many more years than I have been flying. And in all those many years of operation, he has never had a radio installed in his airplane.

What keeps him safe is his excellent vision and his reliance on the best piece of collision avoidance equipment to ever be installed in the cockpit of every single airplane out there flying: his two eyes. Because of the proper use of that equipment, he has never, ever had a near miss.

However, the other pilot inbound on the straight-in final was certainly ignorant of that rather slow airplane in front of me in the pattern. By the time the Champ was about to make the base-to-final turn, the other aircraft might be about to share that exact same piece of airspace real estate. After all, I didn’t know what kind of aircraft was out there on the “4mile final.” Because the pilot announced only his tail number, I had no clue as to whether he was one of those sleek Gulfstreams flying a final at 120 knots, a Bonanza coming at us a little more slowly, or perhaps even one of the many new light-sport aircraft arriving at something more akin to the Champ’s approach speed.

I couldn’t just fly along keeping silent on my own radio. I felt I had a responsibility here. This person who was arriving straight in might not be using the same kind of collision avoidance equipment as installed in the Champ. He might be charging on down final, blissfully unaware of the Champ, relying on his newly installed Skywatch or similar traffic information service (TIS) system to warn him of any impending collision.

If he were looking out the window for any lights (I was hoping he had turned on his own lights, which would aid the pilot in the Champ with the operation of his system), he certainly wouldn’t see

any lights on the old Aeronca. For not only did that airplane not have a radio, but it also had no equipment whatsoever installed that relied on electricity, other than the synapses going on in the brain of the pilot in command of that wonderful classic airplane. It didn’t have a radio, it didn’t have lights, and it didn’t have a transponder.

For the brand spankin’ new collision avoidance equipment installed in the inbound aircraft to work, it required a transponder signal from the conflicting “traffic.” No signal . . . no warning. And with no warning, would our arriving pilot, who was counting on his state-ofthe-art equipment to keep him safe, be aware that he was about to mate with another aircraft of much older vintage? It is one thing for Eagles or Hawks to have mid-air entanglements for the purpose of procreating their species, but when two aircraft have a mid-air meeting, it is likely that the only proliferation will be of airplane pieces and parts across the ground.

Because the only thing I wanted to see on the ground, extending out on the final approach path, were the sequenced flashing lights of the approach light system, and not a mix of Ceconite, spruce, aluminum, and body parts, my thumb quickly pushed the pushto-talk switch on my stick, and I announced: “Columbia County traffic, red and cream taildragger is on the left downwind for 3 . . . and aircraft on the straight-in final, be aware that there is a yellow and orange Champ on the base leg, about set to turn final. He has no radio, so keep your eyes open.”

There were a few moments of silence on the frequency. Then: “Uh . . . 345 is looking for the Champ . . . not in sight . . . uh, oh there he is. 345 is going around.” From my vantage point on the downwind, I could see a Malibu rolling to the right to avoid hitting the Champ as the faster airplane overtook the

slower one. The difference in final approach airspeeds between these two aircraft was about 35 knots.

From my position I could not tell whether or not the Malibu had any lights on. Had I not made my announcement, would the pilot of the Malibu have seen the Champ?

Who knows? Perhaps not, and two fine aircraft might have been destroyed, not to mention the pilots and passengers on board.

Perhaps the other pilot might be relying more on his ears than his eyes for collision avoidance.

Let’s look at the several lessons to be learned from this incident.

To begin with, we have to be aware that despite incredible strides in technology, the greatest device for detecting other airplanes, particularly in the traffic pattern, is our own two eyes. I will not deny that radios and the various TIS systems can assist our scan. In fact, in this incident it might very well have been my CTAF announcement that made the Malibu pilot aware of the Champ. However, to announce “all other aircraft please advise” on the CTAF, expecting any and all aircraft to reply, does not mean that every one will or, in this case, can advise.

Personally, whenever I hear a pilot make that announcement I intensify my scan, with the thought that perhaps the other pilot might be relying more on his ears than his eyes for collision avoidance.

Another thing to be aware of is that tail numbers do not mean much in the nontowered environ-

ment of Class E and G airspace. If I am close enough to another airplane to read its tail number, I will be way too close, at least for my own personal comfort. In radio communication with air traffic control, tail numbers are essential. But in the traffic patterns of our nontowered airports, knowing what type of aircraft is making a position report makes the visual identification of that aircraft much easier.

When I hear “yellow Skyhawk on downwind,” I know what to look for. When I hear “N12345,” I haven’t a clue what I am looking for. And be aware that “Cessna 12345” doesn’t really help me much more. Is that Cessna a “120” or a Citation?

Just slight differences in performance I would say. If a Cessna 120 is “10 to the east, inbound for landing,” I could probably fly at least three patterns before having to start looking for it.

On the other hand, if it’s a Citation that is “10 out, inbound,” I might want to hold short.

As for the Malibu flying a straight-in, 4-mile final, I won’t necessarily say that it was improper procedure. It is permissible per the regulations. And there are certainly times when it can be, and is, a safe way to approach a nontowered airport. But if we are flying a long, straight-in approach, we are definitely increasing the risk factors not only for ourselves, but also for every other airplane that might be sharing the pattern.

Sometimes that awareness alone will keep us from doing it.

Next month I would like to take a look at some of the other procedures that we have to be aware of as we fly the traffic pattern. I am sure that we are all aware that the vast majority of mid-air collisions occur in or near the traffic pattern.

Awareness of proper procedures in the pattern could go a long way toward minimizing and managing that risk. It would be great if you would join me in attempting to reduce that risk.

VINTAGE AIRPLANE

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