Mr. Clue, meet Mr. Less
I flew the Cirrus up to Alexandria this morning to get some more time in it and keep that comfort level on the rise.
Other than an impressive headwind on the trip up (114 knot groundspeed = 35 knot headwind at 3,500 feet) it was an unremarkable trip, except for the opportunity to witness both some outstanding communications and a truly awful display that left me embarrassed.
The good came up at Alex.
I started monitoring the CTAF about 20 miles out and a Robinson R22 was working the pattern. At 10 miles in quick succession a nifty Partenavia announced they were 10 miles south, a Cessna called 10 miles north and a Tomahawk announced they were five west and entering a left downwind for runway 31.
I scrapped my plan to fly the ILS to a straight-in approach and started looking for the traffic.
The Tomahawk announced they were on downwind, the Partenavia announced they were entering the downwind and, incredibly, I spotted them both. I keyed the mic, announced I had the Tomahawk and the Partenavia (try pronouncing that one correctly the first time!) in sight and would enter the downwind behind the Partenavia.
The Robinson announced final and the inbound Cessna announced they had us all in sight and would be number four for landing.
It worked out beautifully. I was just so impressed. Five aircraft all converging on an uncontrolled field at the same time and the spacing wound up being perfect. We landed one after another, each aircraft carefully and efficiently announcing their positions. It really was a thing of beauty.
Flash forward an hour.
I'd been monitoring Crystal tower for the past 10 minutes when I heard this initial contact on the frequency:
"Crystal, uh, Cessna 12345 is over the river, landing."
I'm thinking to myself, "Which river, the Mississippi? Great! That's a long river, give us a clue. How about the ATIS pal? Echo is current you know."
It went downhill from there. Another Cessna with a similar call sign was somewhere near Crystal as well and they began responding to the other's clearances while the controller did an incredibly patient job of trying to sort the whole mess out.
Cessna number two was in the game enough to figure out what was going on and began using his full call sign.
Cessna number one (the dude who was 'over the river') never got with it and stopped using any call sign at all.
So, tower would say something like: "Cessna 12345, verify that you're the aircraft on a left downwind for runway 32 at 1,800 feet."
To which what I can only assume was Cessna number one would respond: "We're over the river."
No call sign, no confirmation of the altitude, nothing.
Cessna 12345 would then break in and confirm their position, which seemed to confuse 'over the river' guy even more.
The only time things got quiet was when the exasperated controller queried: "Do I have two airplanes with similar call signs on the frequency?"
Neither Mr. Clue nor Mr. Less said a peep.
Other than an impressive headwind on the trip up (114 knot groundspeed = 35 knot headwind at 3,500 feet) it was an unremarkable trip, except for the opportunity to witness both some outstanding communications and a truly awful display that left me embarrassed.
The good came up at Alex.
I started monitoring the CTAF about 20 miles out and a Robinson R22 was working the pattern. At 10 miles in quick succession a nifty Partenavia announced they were 10 miles south, a Cessna called 10 miles north and a Tomahawk announced they were five west and entering a left downwind for runway 31.
I scrapped my plan to fly the ILS to a straight-in approach and started looking for the traffic.
The Tomahawk announced they were on downwind, the Partenavia announced they were entering the downwind and, incredibly, I spotted them both. I keyed the mic, announced I had the Tomahawk and the Partenavia (try pronouncing that one correctly the first time!) in sight and would enter the downwind behind the Partenavia.
The Robinson announced final and the inbound Cessna announced they had us all in sight and would be number four for landing.
It worked out beautifully. I was just so impressed. Five aircraft all converging on an uncontrolled field at the same time and the spacing wound up being perfect. We landed one after another, each aircraft carefully and efficiently announcing their positions. It really was a thing of beauty.
Flash forward an hour.
I'd been monitoring Crystal tower for the past 10 minutes when I heard this initial contact on the frequency:
"Crystal, uh, Cessna 12345 is over the river, landing."
I'm thinking to myself, "Which river, the Mississippi? Great! That's a long river, give us a clue. How about the ATIS pal? Echo is current you know."
It went downhill from there. Another Cessna with a similar call sign was somewhere near Crystal as well and they began responding to the other's clearances while the controller did an incredibly patient job of trying to sort the whole mess out.
Cessna number two was in the game enough to figure out what was going on and began using his full call sign.
Cessna number one (the dude who was 'over the river') never got with it and stopped using any call sign at all.
So, tower would say something like: "Cessna 12345, verify that you're the aircraft on a left downwind for runway 32 at 1,800 feet."
To which what I can only assume was Cessna number one would respond: "We're over the river."
No call sign, no confirmation of the altitude, nothing.
Cessna 12345 would then break in and confirm their position, which seemed to confuse 'over the river' guy even more.
The only time things got quiet was when the exasperated controller queried: "Do I have two airplanes with similar call signs on the frequency?"
Neither Mr. Clue nor Mr. Less said a peep.
posted by Will at 1:15 PM
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