On The Airbands

Mark Casson of South Guildford, Perth, tells of a light conversation monitored on Perth Approach frequency of 118. 7 on a busy Monday morning. An international airliner was on final approach, for RW 21. The story goes like this: CONTROL: ‘Heavy two-four, call tower 120 decimal 5’.

No reply was heard. Several further attempts were made to raise the aircraft. The approach controller correctly anticipated that the aircraft had a VHF radio failure, and assumed the aircraft’s receiver was still working. He cleared the aircraft to land, still on the approach frequency. The aircraft landed normally and eventually popped up on the surface movement frequency. Where he changed VHF sets to COMM 2, and the following conversation took place.

AIRCRAFT: ‘Perth Ground, Heavy two-four, could you give our thanks to the approach-controller who gave us our clearance to land?” CROUND CONTROL: ‘No worries. . . we’ll pass that on. And by the way, did you see the green light from the tower?” AIRCRAFT: “Aah mmm. . . I must confess, I didn’t see the light! A few seconds later. . .

AIRCRAFT: (In apparent amazement!) “Have you still got those things? GROUND: ‘Yair. . . remember, you’re in Perth!” Robert Horne, of St. Marys NSW writes to ask about RAAF “STUD’ frequencies, which he’s tried searching for, to no avail. Well Bob, I do know a few of them, I must admit, but unfortunately, I cannot publish or pass on that information to you. For those of you who monitor RAAF activity, you will occasionally hear an aircraft directed by a RAAF controller to Call the Tower, STUD 4′, or similar. The radio frequency in question is UHF, but that is all I am prepared to say. If you find any of the STUDS, write them down so you remember them, and listen yourself, but keep it at that level. The RAAF would certainly not be impressed with this sort of information being bandied around, and I respect their feelings. Bob Home writes that he is using an AOR 2001 scanner. A top unit. No annoying image frequencies, and it covers the UHF military band.

Ron Cuskelly of Clayfield, QLD heard a very amusing radio situation develop in late 1976, when ATC were working to rule. There were considerable delays as the airlines waited for the limited departure slots. The conversation was between a domestic F. 27, and Brisbane Ground.

AIRCRAFT: “Brisbane Ground, Romeo Papa Tango, what’s the delay with Airways Clearance? GROUND: Romeo Papa Tango, six zero minutes” AIRCRAFT: ‘Six minutes. That’s OK, I’ll go now then’ GROUND: “Romeo Papa Tango, that’s six ZERO minutes. AIRCRAFT: ‘Sixty minutes. . . that’s a bloody hour! GROUND: “Romeo Papa Tango that is correct. There are sixty minutes in an hour! AIRCRAFT: (SILENCE).

Another Queensland reader-listener, Francis Nickelson of Cleveland, in the sunshine state, relates an incident that was heard on the first south-bound sector of Brisbane Control, on frequency 130. 4. The controller was a female. The time was late one Saturday afternoon, and an aircraft called control.

AIRCRAFT: ‘Brisbane Control, Air Train one-zero-zero-nine climbing to flight level 3-3-zero” CONTROL: Air Train 1-zero-zero-9, afternoon, Brisbane Control A few minutes later. . .

CONTROL: “Air Train 1-0-0-9, with regards to your call sign, confirm it’s one-zero-zero-nine, and not FIVE-zero-zero-nine? AIRCRAFT: ‘Standby’ A few more second passes. . .

AIRCRAFT: “Err. . . ah, I think it’s 1-0-0-9 (PUZZLED VOICE) (followed immediately by another member of the flight deck crew. . . ) AIRCRAFT: ‘The flight number is 1-0-0-9, but Air New Zealand submitted it as 5-0-0-9, so we don’t know what to call it!’ CONTROL: (slow speaking) ‘Air Train one-zero-zero-nine, we’ll settle for the 1-0-0-9 I think.

AIRCRAFT: “Ah thanks, roger. . . that’s fine. . . thanks!” Thanks again to Francis Nickelson for sending us this piece of airborne confusion.

As most pilots will attest, approaching a runway to the west in the late afternoon sun requires a maximum of concentration and crew coordination. Some years ago, an aircraft was approaching Essendon’s RW 26, the crew of the jet aircraft, obviously working hard, requested a ‘late wind check’. Essendon Tower, ever obliging, dutifully provided the windcheck. The following comments were then responsible for cracking up the controller on duty, and others listening: AIRCRAFT:. . . and ya couldn’t put a bag over that damn sun for us too, could you?” Thanks go to Greg Thom of Thornbury, Victoria for that gem. Greg also monitored an Electra aircraft, on a regular public transport fight, in the late 1960’s, tracking for a landing on Essendon’s RW 35. The pilot requested a slight deviation in track from the heading that ATC had assigned to him. The controller was obviously curious as to the reason for the turn, and requested to be informed of the cause, expecting, no doubt, a technical explanation to follow. Imagine the look on the controller’s face when the pilot casually replied. . . “Na, I’m just flying over home at the moment! (Obviously a signal to the missus to put dinner in the oven!).

T. Hamilton of Richmond, NSW appears to be a military aviation buff, and tells in his letter how in the late seventies, the RAAF utilised Visual Observation Posts, or VOP’s in Air Defence exercises. Two-man teams would position themselves at strategic positions, usually mountain tops, headlands, and offshore islands, and report enemy sightings to a central radar unit. Most of the VOPs were manned by Aerodrome Defence Guards, who knew what they were about, and were skilled in using proper terminology and procedures. But occasionally, during exercises, librarians, clerks, and general hands were also conscripted to assist, and their inexperience showed through. . . like the situation that arose during what was supposed to be a lull in a ‘Kangaroo’ Exercise.

VOP: ‘Hubcap (radar site), this is Victor Bravo, has the exercise been re-activated. . . or what’s happening?” HUBCAP: ‘Negative Victor Bravo VOP: “Well Hubcap, I have a prowler circling my position at a very low altitude. ” Victor Bravo then received a very rude two-fingered gesture from all four members of a US Navy ECM aircraft crew. VOP: “Hubcap, this is Victor Bravo. I think I’m going to have to go off air now!’ HUBCAP: “Victor Bravo. . . are there any problems? VOP: “No. . . not really. . . but I think I’m dead!.

The couple who contributed the final anecdote this issue are from Queensland but wish to remain anonymous. The piece they offer is superb if not a little risque! The correspondents were passengers from London to Sydney on a heavy jet, and the Captain had just completed a ‘this is your Captain speaking’ announcement, but failed to switch off the Public address, and continued on addressing the First Officer with a question. What are you doing when we hit Sydney?’ The F. O. immediately replied. . . 1 need a good screw and a cup of coffee!’ At this point, a horrified-looking hostess was seen to literally scoot up the aisle, obviously to notify them that the conversation had gone public. As she hurried past our correspondent’s row, a man nearby yelled, “Excuse me hostess”, and the petrified young thing stopped to speak to him. With a wicked, devilish grin, he simply said. . . “You’ve forgotten the coffee!”

If you have a story like this, just waiting to be told, we only ask for an honest assurance that the incident really happened, and a letter containing the details to the following address: Robert Bell, 68 Ashby Avenue, Yagoona NSW 2199.