Air Safety

“Yes, Sir, yes,Sir, no worries, Sir, I’ll remember all that, Sir”, oh boy, just let me at that white woolly stuff, I’ll punch holes in it all the way to Bolgart and back!

T he first half of the sortie goes just as briefed, although a bit of time inside the cloud is spent looking out the window instead of watching the crystal ball with wings. I do my GF and amazingly I don’t topple the gyro and pretty soon it’s nearly my Approach T ime, so I start rehearsing my radio call – don’t want to get it wrong. Around then I became aware that there are lots of other aircraft calling for approaches too, so while I’m waiting to get my call away, I start pointing in the general direction of home.

Right, there’s a hole in the airwaves, time to transmit!

“Pearce Approach, Charlie 50, on the 060 at 25 miles, FL120, heading 180, request radar marshal to cloud break. ” Gee! Didn’t muff any of it!

“Charlie 50, you have about a 5 minute delay before we can fit you in, can you wait?”

“Err . . . Charlie 50, roger . . . ” Damn! What will I do now? Five minutes isn’t long enough to get organised and do more aeros, besides, I might topple my Al (and Sir would get angry) and even if I was a fighter pilot, with all these straps around, 5 minutes wouldn’t be long enough for Maple Hunter, so I’ll just wander along looking at cloud tops – maybe I’ll dial up 6IX on the ADFno, better not, I’ll keep it tuned on Pearce in case the Tacan fails. Listen to the busy chatter of the Approach Controller, sit there, fat, dumb and happy . . .

Wonder if I’ll be late for lines time? Hope not, because we’ve just had a briefing from that ogre of a flight commander about being late for lines – what’s the time anyway? Only 3 minutes gone, another 2 before I call again, so I’d better rehearse my radio call again.

T his time it will be “Pearce Approach, Charlie 50, on the . . !8@%***” ARR, SH . . . ! A shot of adrenalin as I see the Tacan needle showing 110°! I’ve blundered through the buffer zone, across the instrument departure radial and into the dreaded South Eastern area without a clearance! What do I do now? A split-arse turn through 180°, full throttle and try to get back into the North Eastern sector before the radar notices! Never mind about crossing the departure radial again, Departures will keep another aircraft from hitting me, Oh geez am I in the poo! Why does this aircraft go so slow?? Still only on the 090 and my 5 minutes are nearly up!

After an eternity, the Tacan finally shows north of 170° and I try to calm down but my pulse is racing and I’ve got the nervous panicky sweat of a student who expects to get a rocket up the jetpipe any second. But Radar doesn’t call me up and I soon have my voice under enough control to call them.

Approach replies, “Charlie 50, turn right onto 230, descend to 8,000, QNH 1030”.

“Charlie 50, 230, 8,000”. Whew! Rejoin checks done and here comes that cloud again, closer,closer, racing up now- boot! Into it and onto the clocks. What was that heading again, yeah, 230, put the heading bug on it so I don’t forget.

“Charlie 50, turn onto 270, descend to 5,000”.

“Charlie 50, 5,000 err . . . 270” right turn, moving the heading bug,boy,the heart beat is almost back to its ‘tense’ level and this cloud is looking a bit blacker than when I left but it’s still a nice feeling to be encased in this cotton wool, oops, watch the speed and raise the nose a bit . . . ah! Out the bottom of the cloud, quick look around, I’m almost over the Avon Valley, so level out, look at the altimeter . . . and the icy grip of terror and adrenalin squeezes my chest again as I see 2,600′ -I forgot to level at 5,000!!

What the hell do I do now?? Do I tell Approach that I’m visual? Nobody else is visual at 5,000′! Do I climb back into the cloud to 5,000 and shut up? No, I’ve already fouled up enough on this trip without going back for more and anyway I’m back into the departures lane and the departures controller thinks I’m at 5 grand so there could be someone outbound at a lower height. Oh hell! Doing 250K straight at the base and I’m inside 1O miles and it’s all turning to worms!

So I make a feeble “Charlie 50, visual, going tower. ” Did they acknowledge? Can’t tell, the blood’s rushing too loudly in my ears . . . oh hell, I’m too close to the field to muck around, so I dial up Stud 2 and head for left initial 36 by passing over the field at 2,000 . . . looks like they didn’t see me.

Jump, as a loud voice demands “Charlie 50, you this frequency?”

Squeak “Charlie 50, affirmative. ”

“Present position?”

“Charlie 50, 5miles west tracking for left initial”. Oh boy,have I done it this time. Approach obviously didn’t hear my call and now everybody knows I’ve done something wrong! Forget the circuits, this is a full stop, I wonder how long before they scrub me, the Duty Instructor will dob me in, worry, worry, worry . . .

Sign off, take off safety equipment slowly (for the last time?), drag my feet across those miles of tarmac to my instructor’s office to confess . . . But he’s not there, so I get a while to consider my sins – what went wrong?

Some gross overconfidence, gross complacency, not watching my position in the area, not obeying the most basic rules of IF in the descent and when finally visual, not ensuring that Approach knew where I was. Gloom! Confess to that lot, and I’ll be out of here for sure! So . . . shut up and see if anyone noticed.

As luck would have it, nobody noticed. So I shut up. I can consider myself fortunate that I survived the trip without hitting another aircraft, bumping into the ground, or even getting the roasting I so thoroughly deserved. And now, when I suggest something a bit shaky to myself, Self wisely uses the benefit of

This hindsight and tells me to get lost!