Avoiding the Cancellation Trap

"Cessna Two-Seven-Two-Eight-Charlie, cleared to Foster Outer Compass Locator, hold northwest as published, maintain five thousand, expect further clearance 1930; you are number three for the approach."

You read back the clearance, examine your chart to find Foster (the outer marker for the ILS approach to Victoria Regional Airport in Texas), and plan your holding-pattern entry. The controller is busy; he talks nearly nonstop. By the time you reach the holding fix you have heard him clear three more airplanes to hold over the same fix, at six, seven, and eight thousand feet. One other aircraft has checked on the frequency and been told to reduce speed, "expect holding at Foster."

"Baron One-Two-Yankee, radar contact lost, maintain two thousand until established, cleared ILS approach to Victoria. Report your cancellation or down time this frequency. Five other aircraft to follow you."

You hear the Baron read back the clearance and then add, "Baron One-Two-Yankee, starting our procedure turn."

"That guy is just starting his procedure turn?" you think to yourself. You reduce power another hundred rpm. "This is going to take awhile."

"What's the weather?" growls a gravelly voiced commuter pilot.

"Victoria's wind is one-two-zero at one-zero. Ceiling eight hundred overcast, visibility five miles."

"This is Jetlink Twenty-Five-Forty-Two, be advised that we won't be able to hold longer than fifteen more minutes. We'll need to go back to Houston if it is going to be longer than that. This stuff wasn't supposed to be here." The pilot's annoyance carries very clearly.

Eight hundred overcast with good visibility, you think to yourself. The Baron should be able to cancel on a two-mile final. That will save some time at least.

"Baron One-Two-Yankee is procedure turn inbound."

"One-Two-Yankee, roger. Change to advi-sory frequency is approved. Return promptly with your cancellation."

More time passes. Center has cleared the "Cessna Two-Seven-Two-Eight-Charlie, cleared to Foster Outer Compass Locator, hold northwest as published, maintain five thousand, expect further clearance 1930; you are number three for the approach."

You read back the clearance, examine your chart to find Foster (the outer marker for the ILS approach to Victoria Regional Airport in Texas), and plan your holding-pattern entry. The controller is busy; he talks nearly nonstop. By the time you reach the holding fix you have heard him clear three more airplanes to hold over the same fix, at six, seven, and eight thousand feet. One other aircraft has checked on the frequency and been told to reduce speed, "expect holding at Foster."

"Baron One-Two-Yankee, radar contact lost, maintain two thousand until established, cleared ILS approach to Victoria. Report your cancellation or down time this frequency. Five other aircraft to follow you."

You hear the Baron read back the clearance and then add, "Baron One-Two-Yankee, starting our procedure turn."

"That guy is just starting his procedure turn?" you think to yourself. You reduce power another hundred rpm. "This is going to take awhile."

"What's the weather?" growls a gravelly voiced commuter pilot.

"Victoria's wind is one-two-zero at one-zero. Ceiling eight hundred overcast, visibility five miles."

"This is Jetlink Twenty-Five-Forty-Two, be advised that we won't be able to hold longer than fifteen more minutes. We'll need to go back to Houston if it is going to be longer than that. This stuff wasn't supposed to be here." The pilot's annoyance carries very clearly.

Eight hundred overcast with good visibility, you think to yourself. The Baron should be able to cancel on a two-mile final. That will save some time at least.

"Baron One-Two-Yankee is procedure turn inbound."

"One-Two-Yankee, roger. Change to advi-sory frequency is approved. Return promptly with your cancellation."

More time passes. Center has cleared the number-two aircraft down to three thousand feet, and you down to four thousand. The aircraft above you are lowered in sequence as altitudes become available.

"Come on, Baron!" you think to yourself. "Cancel!"

The controller is still very busy. In addition to all the clearances needed to lower the holding stack, you hear him talking to other aircraft not landing at Victoria, and to military aircraft whose responses are on UHF frequencies you cannot hear. The controller's voice is edgy. It is clear to you that he is under a lot of pressure. "Baron One-Two-Yankee, Center," he transmits.

"One-Two-Yankee, go."

"Uh, what's your position?"

"One-Two-Yankee is a half-mile final. Field's in sight."

"One-Two-Yankee, uh, report cancellation. Five to follow you."

"Come on, guy," you think to yourself. "Does he have to spell it out to you?" It is clear to you that the controller is all but begging the Baron pilot to cancel IFR so that he can keep moving the holding stack before new flights arrive.

"One-Two-Yankee, roger." The Baron pilot is obviously not getting the message.

Finally, after what seems an eternity: "Baron One-Two-Yankee is clear of the active." The controller doesn't even acknowledge the arrival time. He moves immediately to clear the next aircraft. "Jetlink Twenty-Five-Forty-Two, maintain two thousand until established, cleared ILS approach to Victoria. Report cancellation or down time this frequency."

"Jetlink," you think to yourself. "That's the guy who was in a hurry. I'll bet this doesn't take long." Somehow, however, it does. The routine is now established. The controller lowers the holding stack, clears the commuter to leave the frequency, then checks to see if he has come back after a reasonable amount of time. After another long wait you finally hear: "Jetlink Twenty-Five-Forty-Two, on the ground."

It's finally your turn. You are cleared for the ILS. In the meantime, you have noted two other airplanes reporting that they have entered the holding pattern above you. The controller sounds even busier than before, if that's possible. You elect to remain on the controller's frequency when he clears you to go over to advisory. At eight hundred feet above the ground you break out of the clouds. Visibility is great and you see the runway right away. "I don't know what those other guys' problems were, but I'm not going to hold up the show," you say to yourself. You pick up the mic. "Center, Cessna Two-Eight-Charlie, field in sight, cancel IFR." There is a trace of relief in the controller's voice when he acknowledges your cancellation. You can almost hear the other pilots in the holding pattern applauding you. "Now there's a guy who knows how to keep things moving," you imagine one of them saying.

You taxi in and shut down. You are still experiencing a certain amount of euphoria. You have flown a good IFR flight, including a hold and an ILS approach. It has been a job well done.

As you walk toward the FBO, a gentleman opens the door and steps out to greet you. "Hi," he smiles. "I'm Bob from the FAA and I'm here to help."

The feds, you think. Oh well, I've got nothing to hide. You introduce yourself and ask what "Bob" wants.

"I'd like to ask you a couple of questions, and then if it is all right with you, I'd like to look at your airplane and see the paperwork." You nod. "You won't find anything wrong in my airplane," you think to yourself.

"Go right ahead," you say out loud.

"Now, you were on an IFR flight plan, is that correct?" You nod again. He asks you more questions and little by little, details of the entire flight emerge. Bob remains friendly and you feel reasonably comfortable talking to him. Then: "Tell me," he says. "Did you know that Victoria has a surface area?"

You look at Bob questioningly. For the first time you begin to feel uneasy. What is Bob getting at? "You mean there's a tower here?" you ask.

yNo." He shakes his head. "No tower. A Class E surface area. You know. The magenta dashed lines on the sectional chart."

No, you have never been to Victoria before and you hadn't thought anything about surface areas. That's one of the reasons you always file IFR.

"Well, to operate VFR in a surface area, you must have a 1,000-foot ceiling and three miles' visibility. If it is less than that, you can request a special VFR clearance."

"Great," you answer. Despite your best intentions, this guy is starting to get under your skin and some of that shows. "What has all that got to do with me?"

Bob looks you in the eye. He is no longer smiling. "When you canceled your IFR flight plan out there on final, you were then operating VFR within a surface area, with less than the required ceiling, and without a special VFR clearance. Here is my card. I would like you to call me sometime next week to make an appointment to come down to the FSDO."

You are left with a bitter taste in your mouth. After all, you were just trying to help out the busy controller and minimize the delays to all the other aircraft behind you. It doesn't seem right to be punished for trying to be a team player. Ruefully, you now understand why the Baron and the commuter pilots waited until they were on the ground.

There are some lessons to be learned here. First, pilots should understand that air traffic control and flight standards are two entirely separate branches of the FAA. Flight standards inspectors are all very experienced pilots. They know airplanes. They know the regs that pertain to flying them. Ensuring that pilots fly safely and legally is what they do.

Air traffic controllers are generally not pilots. Their knowledge of FAR Part 91 is limited. Their job is to safely and expeditiously move air traffic. The pilot of Two-Eight-Charlie was entirely correct when he sensed that the controller was pushing for an early cancellation. This is natural. Every IFR flight that cancels relieves the controller's workload by that much and expedites everyone else in line. The controller will make sure that everything that happens is legal with regard to the air traffic control rules he has to operate by, but most controllers have only a vague idea of what is contained in Part 91.

The controller in this example didn't even know that it is illegal to cancel IFR while operating in a surface area with weather less than the prescribed VFR minimums. He was just as anxious as everyone else for the pilots to cancel early so that he could do his job that much faster and efficiently. The pilot's job — that is, to fly safely and legally — was not his concern. Nor can it be, any more than pilots can be responsible for the ATC decisions controllers make.

Always remember that you are the pilot in command. Never let a controller, impatient passenger, or business appointment keep you from complying with what you know you must legally do. The urgency in the controller's voice certainly may sound like a wink and a nod to hurry up and cancel. In fact, the controller in the story was genuinely grateful to the pilot for canceling; he did not notify flight standards. Few controllers consider themselves policemen. If as in the story, however, a flight standards inspector happened to be visiting the airport on the day that another pilot were to cancel under similar circumstances, the pilot might have some explaining to do. You can bet that the argument "I could tell that the controller wanted me to" would not get him very far.

The ceiling and visibility requirements for VFR flight apply in any type of surface area: Class B, C, D, or E surface areas. When operating IFR to one of these areas when the weather is below VFR, don't cancel your IFR flight plan unless you are on the ground. The only other alternative is to arrange with the controller for a special VFR clearance prior to canceling. In the real world, though, controllers treat special VFR operations in almost the same way that they do IFR as far as separation is concerned, so getting one in this case is unlikely to save you or anyone else behind you any time.

The pilot of Two-Eight-Charlie did visit the FSDO later that week. He met with Bob again and they discussed the matter in more detail. In the end, the pilot agreed to take one hour of ground school with a flight instructor to review the requirements for VFR flight within the various kinds of airspace. The instructor he contracted with was pleasant, and the pilot ended up enjoying the hour he spent. He was amazed at how much he had not understood about airspace before. When the pilot contacted the FSDO again after having taken the instruction, Bob explained that although record of this remedial training would be kept for two years, the incident was considered closed by the FAA. There would be no enforcement follow-up. While clearly the pilot would have rather not gone through it, in time he would admit to himself that the experience was not as unpleasant as he would have thought.

Almost all pilots are anxious to help when they hear a busy controller. It is important to know your regulations, however. Don't let good intentions lure you into the cancellation trap.

Robert Snow, AOPA 376566, is an airline transport pilot with 7,500 hours and an air traffic controller from Humble, Texas.