Two case histories make that point only too well. But to evaluate them in context, here's a flight-planning exercise that may challenge the common notions about the way we plan to go from one location to another in an airplane. Draw a relatively straight-line flight from one airport to another, several hundred miles away; at, say, 5,500 feet above terrain; in an airplane with two communications radios. Plan it so that you will occupy yourself with a minimum of communication with any ATC facilities until you arrive at the destination. Is this a good idea? Don't answer that question just yet.
Study your course line. How many airports do you overfly? You will be passing more than 5,000 feet overhead - is there any reason to monitor each tower or common traffic advisory frequency along the way? Save that question for later, too.
On November 21, 1993, a 177-hour private pilot was flying a Piper PA-28-161 Warrior from Red Hook, New York, eastbound to Bedford, Massachusetts, near Boston. It was just before 2 p.m. The weather at nearby Bradley International Airport was clear, visibility 20 miles, as the aircraft, with four souls on board, passed overhead the small, nontowered field in Northampton, Massachusetts (7B2), about 60 miles from the destination. The CTAF frequency at Northampton is 122.7 MHz. The Piper had two radios. One was apparently tuned to 122.8 MHz, the frequency of the departure airport. The other was set to 120.3 MHz, the frequency of the Bradley International control tower.
A Cessna 210 had taken off from Northampton with five parachutists on board. It was heading into the sun at 7,300 feet, preparing for its fifth jump run of the day. Its pilot gave Bradley Approach Control a one-minute-to-jump advisory and transmitted the same information on the Northampton CTAF. Bradley Approach broadcast an advisory. The first parachutist jumped out of the westbound Cessna. After a brief interval of free fall, the jumper collided with the vertical tail of the eastbound Piper, which entered a dive and plunged to the ground. No one on board survived.
Here is the jumper's account of what happened after he jumped, according to the National Transportation Safety Board report of the accident: "About five to six seconds later, he observed '...an airplane coming right at me. I was coming from above it-angling down towards it.' He stated that he thought he would miss the airplane, but 'hit the tail ...' instead. He then deployed his parachute and floated toward the drop zone. He stated that as he was floating, he observed the accident airplane '...about 200 feet above the ground, going in totally out of control.'"
The NTSB report reviewed numerous other aspects of the improbable collision. One was whether there should have been a warning issued to the jump airplane about the opposite-direction traffic. "The air traffic controller who was communicating with the [Cessna 210] stated that he did not see a target transmitting a beacon code of 1200 in the vicinity of the jumper airplane about the time the pilot reported one minute prior to 'jumpers away.' He stated that because he did not see the target, he did not issue a traffic advisory to the pilot of the jumper airplane."
The report added, "The controller was receiving on-the-job training at the time of the accident. The full performance level controller who was training him provided a similar statement concerning the accident." This was material in light of a passage from the FAA Air Traffic Controller's Handbook requiring that a traffic advisory be given to "include aircraft type, altitude, and direction of flight of all known traffic which will transit the airspace within which the jump will be conducted." An inspection of recorded radar data "revealed that at 1354:32 local time, N3011F [the accident airplane] was determined to be traveling east at an recorded Mode C altitude of 5,600 feet and 5,700 feet msl. At the same time, the parachute jump plane, N50442, was traveling westbound while climbing through 6,500 feet msl. BT target returns were recorded for N3011F through 1356:18.0 at a Mode C altitude of 5,700 feet, and then a final return at 1356:50.4 at 5,000 feet msl."
The report went on to consider what other information might have been available to a pilot flying through the area. There was no notice to airmen (notam) issued for parachute jumping that day "because the parachute jump area is depicted on the New York sectional chart and activity items are published in the Airport/Facility Directory," the report said. It noted that in the AF/D, only the terse comment "parachute jumping" appeared in the airport remarks section of the information on Northampton. No other details were given. The NTSB attributed the accident to "failure of the air traffic control facility to identify and provide the required traffic information to the jump aircraft before release of the jumper(s). A factor related to the accident was inadequate visual lookout by the pilot of the jump aircraft."
But back to our original set of questions about flight planning: Would you answer them any differently now than you would have before reading about the Northampton mishap?
Monitoring Bradley Approach, not the control tower as the Piper pilot did, might have helped, because of the advisory issued on that frequency about impending parachute operations. There was a current sectional chart in the airplane, giving the appropriate frequency (as well as the symbol for parachute operations at Northampton). As for monitoring the Northampton CTAF, on which an advisory was given by the pilot of the jump airplane, how many pilots passing more than a mile overhead would have done so? Would you? At a lower altitude, it would be wise both to monitor and announce one's presence in the vicinity. But at what altitude should those advisories cease? Having done so on that day would have meant that, instead of one aircraft tuned to 122.7 and Approach, and the other aircraft's radios tuned to Bradley Tower and 122.8, the two aircraft would have had one frequency in common. But not doing so was not necessarily wrong - just unfortunate, under the circumstances.
A more recent accident report involving the collision of a Learjet 55 and a single-engine aerobatic airplane in Boca Raton, Florida, also prompts us to examine whether our decision-making can be refined in light of the fact that others are sharing our air.
It was June 23, 2000. The Learjet departed the nontowered airport in Boca Raton and was climbing under VFR. It had an IFR flight plan on file but had not yet contacted ATC to activate it. The Extra
300S departed from a tower-controlled field in nearby Pompano Beach, Florida. Its pilot requested a frequency change two minutes later. The two aircraft collided 2.5 miles from Boca Raton, with the Learjet in a climbing left turn and the Extra in a level right turn. Investigators attributed the accident to both pilots' failing to maintain a visual lookout (while climbing and maneuvering), resulting in an in-flight collision and subsequent collision with residences and terrain.
If these two accidents had anything in common, it is that we can think of other things the parties might have done to bring themselves to the attention of others flying in the area. Even failing that, the tragic outcomes were less than inevitable. But the chain had been started, leaving the rest of us with something to think about.
To see the NTSB narratives of these two accidents, go to the NTSB Web site ( www.ntsb.gov/ntsb/query.asp ) and search the database for NTSB accidents number BFO94FA015 and MIA00FA190 (remove the default dates in the date range fields to access the 1993 accident).
Dan Namowitz is an aviation writer and flight instructor who also works in financial services. A pilot for 18 years and an instructor for 12, he enjoys learning to fly "anything new and different."
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