VINTAGE INSTRUCTOR
THE
BY DOUG STEWART
Runway incursions As I monitored the UNICOM frequency I heard the following in my headset: “Anyone on base or final, please announce.” Looking toward the arrival end of the runway I saw a sleek composite, glass-paneled airplane taxiing onto the runway. The only problem was there was a NORDO (no radio) Luscombe 8A on about a quarter-mile final. And it was obvious that the pilot taxiing onto the runway was unaware of the arriving airplane on short final. Not only had he not heard the pilot of the Luscombe reply on the radio, because the 8A did not have a radio, but also the Luscombe didn’t appear on the big 10-inch screen showing traffic to the pilot of the TAA (technically advanced aircraft) because a transponder in the Luscombe would have been as useful as an empty gas tank, as it didn’t have any electrical system whatsoever. It was obvious that the pilot of the TAA was relying solely on his electronic equipment for his traffic avoidance and not on the best piece of equipment he had in his cockpit…his two eyes. And thus yet another runway incursion occurred. For those who seek a definition of “runway incursion” I offer the International Civil Aviation Organization (ICAO) definition: “Any occurrence at an aerodrome involving the incorrect presence of an aircraft, vehicle, or person on the protected area of a surface designed for the landing and takeoff of aircraft.” But I shouldn’t be too harsh on the pilot of that sleek new airplane,
30 MAY 2008
for I must confess that I, too, had once inadvertently pulled out onto an active runway, right in front of an airplane on short final. In my defense I will state that I had listened on my radio and scanned the final approach path, but somehow I had missed the airplane on final. Was I tired? Was I in a hurry? Was my radio volume turned down? Was I tuned to the proper frequency? Was I distracted by my passenger? Was the approaching airplane in a blind spot to my vision? I don’t really know. But I do know that I was terribly embarrassed that I had done such a stupid thing and vowed never to allow that to happen again. Runway incursions have been happening as long as there have been airports in existence. And they usually have nothing to do with pilot skill or lack thereof. It could happen to the best of us. A friend of mine who is an excellent, safetyconscious, and diligent pilot recounts the following incident: “Twenty-five years or so ago, I was flying my non-electrical system taildragger out of Danbury airport in western Connecticut. One morning, I taxied out and did the usual communications with the ground controller as I taxied to Runway 17 for departure. It was a clear spring day without any traffic in the area, and I stopped short of the hold line, did the run-up and aircraft checks, and switched to tower frequency on my STS handheld radio. I informed him I was ready to depart, and then it happened.
“To this day I don’t recall exactly what the clearance was, but according to the controller he later told me he had cleared me to ‘Taxi into position and hold.’ “I’m certain the reason was for a potential departure on the cross runway, although I didn’t know it at the time. It wasn’t unusual for someone to do a fairly quick turnaround at one of the FBOs on the east end of the field, where a taxi for departure was hardly 100 yards. As I said, there was no other traffic in the pattern, and no communications from other aircraft on the tower or ground frequency, but it didn’t take long for that to change at that airport. “I don’t recall having been issued a ‘taxi into position and hold’ clearance in a very long time, and I suspect I ‘heard’ what I wanted to hear, rather than the actual clearance issued by the tower controller. In any event, I taxied out onto 17, applied power, and took off. I was just clearing the cross runway when the tower controller looked up and realized I’d departed rather than hold short. I can still hear his rebuke. ‘That could have been a very serious situation,’ he barked. ‘Roger, understood,’ was my weak response. “Up to that point in time, that controller was always a very nice, reasonable fellow who had never said a cross word while I was listening in on frequency. I always felt poor about the fact I’d contributed to him having a bad day.