Perhaps this shouldn't come as a surprise. You're in an environment that's new to you. Even with a good headset, it can be noisy at times. You're still learning to operate the aircraft radios. And you're multitasking--simultaneously learning to fly and to communicate in this unique environment.
Even after you earn your pilot certificate, there are many distractions that can complicate communication. Passengers may interrupt or chatter. Where is my airplane on or in relation to the airport? Radio static, jammed frequencies, and the engine can create noise. Where's my chart/pen/pad?
Obstacles that keep us from communicating effectively can be in several categories, including mental (help, I'm not ready for this verbal onslaught), physical (where is my pen?), psychological (they can't be giving me that clearance, can they?), and environmental.
You'll probably fumble more than a few radio calls before you get the hang of it. My first real miscommunication came as I was learning to fly a glider at the (now-defunct) Calistoga Airport in northern California. I'd started taking glider lessons hoping to add a fun rating to my pilot certificate, improve my flying skills (after all, no engine means you've got to do it right the first time), and thinking some real flying might be in order after finishing up commercial certificate and instrument ratings.
The tow pilot (wow, what a cool Piper Super Cub he got to fly) was chatting with me while we waited for the previous glider flight to return when he asked me if I'd ever done any...and here's what I heard..."pear-shooting." Hmm, I thought, shooting pears, why would anyone want to shoot fruit? Like William Tell and the apple, maybe? I heard only the two words "pear" and "shooting." I do recall him talking about "skydiving," but I had a full brain disconnect going and could not, for the life of me, figure out what he was talking about.
A week or so later, while driving through the Sonoma countryside en route to the glider field, it hit me. He'd been asking me if I'd ever jumped out of an airplane! "Parachuting," that's what he was talking about. Boy, was I embarrassed! Later that day when I saw him, I admitted my ignorance and he laughed, saying, "Yeah, I thought maybe you were having one of those brain burps, and were preoccupied with your upcoming glider lesson."
That's probably been my worst public communications gaff, but it certainly wasn't my last. We all make radio blunders, but when you do it face to face it can really be embarrassing. I got to researching how we communicate with others and found that when transmitting a message, it can be broken down into three parts: only 7 percent of the message is conveyed in the words you use; 38 percent is your tone of voice, and 55 percent is the body language. Now, if that pilot had waved his arms in the air to simulate a parachute, maybe I'd have gotten the message.
So, without the benefit of the visual cues, in radio communication we are left with about 45 percent of the message. Considering the obstacles that can keep us from communicating clearly, how does a pilot learn to talk--and listen--on the radio like a pro?
The secret is planning ahead--like almost everything else in aviation. An hour or so spent studying the charts you'll need for your next cross-country trip, with a sharp eye to your communications needs, can go a long way toward smoothing your flight. Make sure your equipment is working properly. Mark your charts with the frequencies you'll need (in the order you'll need them and at the location where you'll want to make the radio call). List the items you'll need to tell the controller on your first call (which is normally who you are, where you are, and what you want), so you can then relax when you key the microphone. Speak slowly and clearly. Because air traffic controllers often will talk to you at the speed you talk to them, give yourself a break--talk slowly. Add the lifesaver "Student Pilot" to your call sign, to ensure you get a little gentler service if you're feeling tongue-tied.
ATC expects you to lead the conversation. You tell them what you need (for example, taxi, takeoff, descent, landing) and they give you a way to accomplish your goal. After all, they're here because of you, not vice versa. However, they need to know some specific information. So if you have a preference of runways for departure, tell the ground controller that fact when you first call for taxi instructions.
"Sacramento Ground, Cessna Niner-Four-Five-Seven-Yankee, at SkyBound Aviation, taxi for takeoff with information Sierra, request Runway 20." You're now anticipating a set of taxi instructions, so have your airport chart handy, which you've already reviewed and figured out a route to the runway. Maybe you even wrote down the routing using taxiway names so when you hear it read to you, they will sound familiar.
I once had to ferry an MD-80 airliner from Houston Intercontinental Airport to Houston Hobby Airport, a distance of probably 10 miles or so as the crow flies. The en route flight time was probably 10 to 12 minutes. The first officer and I spent at least double that amount of time on the ground figuring out how we'd exit the runway, navigate numerous taxiways (turning the long MD-80 was always a challenge with narrow taxiways and lots of 90-degree turns) and eventually end up at the maintenance hangar area where neither of us had ever been before. We discussed various routes, highlighted the one we thought worked best, and wrote down the taxiway letters on our charts. Since we knew which runway was in use at Hobby (by telephoning the ATIS broadcast before we took off), we could plan the route that was easiest for us.
After landing, the tower gave us instructions that were much more convoluted than we'd anticipated. Not wanting to spend another 10 minutes heads down with the taxi chart, we merely requested the route that we'd planned, and we received a clearance for the route we'd studied and mastered earlier. The assigned route was confusing; we solved the problem by asking for ours. Had we not received their blessing for our plan, we'd have asked for progressive taxi instructions, or stopped, figured out the routing, then continued slowly to the destination. (When you request progressive taxi instructions, a controller will monitor your progress and give you turn-by-turn guidance.)
Confusing requests can be a challenge. You'd like to demonstrate your good listening skills, but some days, nothing works to decipher the message. That's where that classic "Say again all after..." comes into play as your best safety net in aviation. Because faulty communications can have deadly results, if you have any question, it's your duty to stop and query the controller before you proceed.
That's just what I did late one night after landing for the first time at Philadelphia International after an instrument approach in pea-soup fog. With frayed nerves caused by very low ceilings, I'd planted the airplane on the runway, and we came to a stop in much less than our normal landing roll. With the fog surrounding us, it was hard to see the taxiway markings, and I surmised that we were much closer to the approach end of the adjacent parallel runway than my first officer stated when he asked ground control for taxi instructions.
The clearance we received didn't make any sense considering our location, and I balked at moving 125,000 pounds of aluminum until I knew exactly where we were located. After 10 minutes of discussion, I keyed my mic and told the controller that I believed we were on Taxiway Yankee west of Runway 9L, not clear of 9R on the taxiway at Sierra 3. Since they couldn't see us in the fog (and had no ground radar at the time), we waited another 15 minutes until all the 9L traffic departed, giving us a clear path to the terminal. Moral: If a clearance doesn't seem right, don't accept it--and don't move the airplane until you clarify your position, your intentions, and those of air traffic control.
Most confusing requests are often just that: confusing requests that don't make any sense because the controller has incorrectly interpreted your position or request. When all else fails, speak English, using the fewest words possible to clearly describe your situation. "I don't understand what you're asking/telling me" is always a good attention-getter. ATC's job is to help you, so asking for help is what they expect you to do when you need it. Clear up a confusing request by taking the time to telephone the tower after the flight to ask how you might have better communicated your needs.
For several years, I'd been having trouble with the clearance for a relatively simple routing from Monterey, California, to my hometown of Santa Barbara. The clearance kept coming back with a bunch of latitude/longitude fixes, even though I didn't have GPS aboard my aircraft. Recently, I telephoned the tower prior to the flight to discuss my clearance before I even got to the airplane. This time I'd fine-tuned my DUAT-filed route by listing a departure fix, initial VOR, airway, final VOR, final fix, and destination airport.
To my great delight, the controller cleared me exactly as I'd filed. Success, at last! The call saved me time and allowed me to tell him how I'd finally solved our knotty problem, which had baffled all of us for several years. If you have a situation that just doesn't make sense, give the air traffic control facility a call and you'll find them more than eager to help. By the way, keeping the automated terminal information service (or automated weather observation system) telephone number of airports you frequently visit can also come in handy when you need to find out weather details quickly--program them into your cell phone.
Remember, communications can be the toughest part of flying, because they're constantly changing. Just when you thought you had it down pat, somebody will come up with something you don't understand. Sometimes they're not even talking to you. "Say again, slowly" is often my best weapon in the war of words. Listening for a little while before you start talking can also give you the lay of the land and help you sound knowledgeable.
There are lots of obstacles that can block communications, but many can be circumnavigated with a good dose of planning, listening, and preparation. Say your request clearly with an "I want to learn" tone and you'll find that air traffic controllers can be great teachers, ready and able to help you gain that "spoken like a pro" reputation.
Karen Kahn is a captain for a major U.S. airline and author of Flight Guide for Success--Tips and Tactics for the Aspiring Airline Pilot. Type-rated in the Boeing 757/767, MD-80, and Lockheed JetStar, she is an FAA aviation safety counselor who holds ATP and Gold Seal flight instructor certificates. Kahn is rated in gliders, seaplanes, and helicopters. Visit her Web site.
Related Articles
