Sumer Is Icumen In...
Another gorgeous day--sunny, high scattered clouds, cool sea breeze. Wisps of fogs drifted across the bluff this morning but by the time I went into work, the fog had retreated to the far side of the bay.
I have started wearing cooler clothes to work--tank tops and jeans under jackets. I can take off the jacket when it gets too warm in the building, and slip back into it for a more professional look when we get walk-in traffic. The guys like running the AC but it is so noisy you can miss faint radio calls, so I prefer to open the upstairs door to the sea breeze and turn on the fan to circulate the air.
Sumer is icumen in...
I allowed myself to sleep in until about quarter-of-nine this morning. Fighting allergies has made me so sluggish but the 12-hr Contac Cold PD gave me at work yesterday has really helped. At least I can breath clearly without the Benadryl hang-over.
I did manage to get the cat-chores done and the dishwasher loaded before I left for work, despite being slow off the starting blocks. I brought the cobalt-blue glass dishware that has been sitting in its box in the back room for at least two years (possibly three) downstairs and unpacked them about a week ago. The boys in the back had been using the box as a scratching post and finally had clawed their way inside, so I figured it was time to do something with the dishes. So they have been sitting on the counter waiting for a run through the dishwasher. Hope they are dishwasher safe. I guess we will find out.
Yesterday's big excitement was a capsized boat off of Bluff Point. A local pilot was first on the scene and reported it to me. After a moment's consideration, I called the police dispatcher, who turned out to be CC's wife. We traded calls and information for about thirty minutes as I relayed information from the plane and asked questions for the trooper. The lucky souls managed to swim to shore where several people helped them from the water, which had numbed them into hypothermia by that point. The beach was inaccessible by that time for wheeled vehicles, due to the tide, so a helicopter was dispatched from Maritime Helicopters to take them to the ER. I hope they will be okay.
Of course, all this happened during the busiest part of the afternoon, with the usual snarl of traffic: IFR student pilot shooting a long approach while the ERA Dash-8 was waiting for clearance outbound, local air taxi pilots cutting in front of the transients in their mad haste to land, pilots unfamiliar with the field landing on the numbers of 21 and taking forever to taxi clear, and of course the constant requests for the location of transient parking.
Yes, summer is here.
So far today, the biggest annoyance is the frequency at which two aircraft will transmit at once, cancelling each other out and resulting in no information being passed. Over the years, it seems like there has been more and more undirected chatter on the frequency, which is worrisome when it seems pilots are substituting talking for listening and looking. Especially as they think they have transmitted and are unaware that the rest of us didn't hear them.
Of course, on the flip side, I had two NORDOs (no radio-contact) this evening. At least when planes are transmitting, you know they are out there. After I had assured Andy that there was no reported traffic (emphasis on the reported), he back-taxied to depart Rwy 21. Just as he was turning to depart, he saw a Cessna on short final for Rwy 3 (the opposite direction). he stopped short as the Cessna did a go-around.
Even more scary, earlier a local had taxied out and gotten the "no reported traffic". He came back with "Is that plane down the runway arriving or departing?"
Just as I looked up, I could see the wings and tail of a dark-colored twin (it looked like a Navajo) disappearing over the hump that is two-thirds down the runway. Now, because of the hump, the approach end of Rwy 21 is invisible from the main portion of the airport. This is one reason why none of the locals will back-taxi to the end of the runway to depart and when Era has to go all the way back in their larger aircraft, they will make a point of checking and re-checking before they start their take-off roll to make sure the runway is clear.
So whoever this was in their dark-colored, hard-to-see twin disappeared over the hump without a peep. My taxiing local waited on the taxiway until the twin turned and departed, then went about his business, but if no one had seen the twin go over the rise, it could have been bad. Very bad. Despite all the windows in our building, we don't have a very good view outside. The major intersections of runway and taxiways are obstructed and we are usually busy inside with telephones, computer messages or the other frequency. Since we don't actually control traffic at Homer (it is an uncontrolled field), we aren't obliged to maintain a constant watch over the airport--we rely on pilots telling us where they are and what they are doing.
There are occasional old beaters who fly around without radios but those pilots are saavy enough to know how to work their way into the field with a minimum of fuss. I can only assume the pilots in the Cessna and the twin were ignorant of the proper procedures. I mean, our frequency is printed in the Alaska Supplement (don't leave home without it) and the aeronautical map and besides that, it is the standard frequency for airport advisory.
I am glad nothing bad came of these incidents and I passed them on to my co-workers as a reminder that during the warmer months we are dealing more and more with pilots unfamiliar with our field and with procedures outside of a positive-controlled environment. Time to keep our heads up and our feelers out.
I have started wearing cooler clothes to work--tank tops and jeans under jackets. I can take off the jacket when it gets too warm in the building, and slip back into it for a more professional look when we get walk-in traffic. The guys like running the AC but it is so noisy you can miss faint radio calls, so I prefer to open the upstairs door to the sea breeze and turn on the fan to circulate the air.
Sumer is icumen in...
I allowed myself to sleep in until about quarter-of-nine this morning. Fighting allergies has made me so sluggish but the 12-hr Contac Cold PD gave me at work yesterday has really helped. At least I can breath clearly without the Benadryl hang-over.
I did manage to get the cat-chores done and the dishwasher loaded before I left for work, despite being slow off the starting blocks. I brought the cobalt-blue glass dishware that has been sitting in its box in the back room for at least two years (possibly three) downstairs and unpacked them about a week ago. The boys in the back had been using the box as a scratching post and finally had clawed their way inside, so I figured it was time to do something with the dishes. So they have been sitting on the counter waiting for a run through the dishwasher. Hope they are dishwasher safe. I guess we will find out.
Yesterday's big excitement was a capsized boat off of Bluff Point. A local pilot was first on the scene and reported it to me. After a moment's consideration, I called the police dispatcher, who turned out to be CC's wife. We traded calls and information for about thirty minutes as I relayed information from the plane and asked questions for the trooper. The lucky souls managed to swim to shore where several people helped them from the water, which had numbed them into hypothermia by that point. The beach was inaccessible by that time for wheeled vehicles, due to the tide, so a helicopter was dispatched from Maritime Helicopters to take them to the ER. I hope they will be okay.
Of course, all this happened during the busiest part of the afternoon, with the usual snarl of traffic: IFR student pilot shooting a long approach while the ERA Dash-8 was waiting for clearance outbound, local air taxi pilots cutting in front of the transients in their mad haste to land, pilots unfamiliar with the field landing on the numbers of 21 and taking forever to taxi clear, and of course the constant requests for the location of transient parking.
Yes, summer is here.
So far today, the biggest annoyance is the frequency at which two aircraft will transmit at once, cancelling each other out and resulting in no information being passed. Over the years, it seems like there has been more and more undirected chatter on the frequency, which is worrisome when it seems pilots are substituting talking for listening and looking. Especially as they think they have transmitted and are unaware that the rest of us didn't hear them.
Of course, on the flip side, I had two NORDOs (no radio-contact) this evening. At least when planes are transmitting, you know they are out there. After I had assured Andy that there was no reported traffic (emphasis on the reported), he back-taxied to depart Rwy 21. Just as he was turning to depart, he saw a Cessna on short final for Rwy 3 (the opposite direction). he stopped short as the Cessna did a go-around.
Even more scary, earlier a local had taxied out and gotten the "no reported traffic". He came back with "Is that plane down the runway arriving or departing?"
Just as I looked up, I could see the wings and tail of a dark-colored twin (it looked like a Navajo) disappearing over the hump that is two-thirds down the runway. Now, because of the hump, the approach end of Rwy 21 is invisible from the main portion of the airport. This is one reason why none of the locals will back-taxi to the end of the runway to depart and when Era has to go all the way back in their larger aircraft, they will make a point of checking and re-checking before they start their take-off roll to make sure the runway is clear.
So whoever this was in their dark-colored, hard-to-see twin disappeared over the hump without a peep. My taxiing local waited on the taxiway until the twin turned and departed, then went about his business, but if no one had seen the twin go over the rise, it could have been bad. Very bad. Despite all the windows in our building, we don't have a very good view outside. The major intersections of runway and taxiways are obstructed and we are usually busy inside with telephones, computer messages or the other frequency. Since we don't actually control traffic at Homer (it is an uncontrolled field), we aren't obliged to maintain a constant watch over the airport--we rely on pilots telling us where they are and what they are doing.
There are occasional old beaters who fly around without radios but those pilots are saavy enough to know how to work their way into the field with a minimum of fuss. I can only assume the pilots in the Cessna and the twin were ignorant of the proper procedures. I mean, our frequency is printed in the Alaska Supplement (don't leave home without it) and the aeronautical map and besides that, it is the standard frequency for airport advisory.
I am glad nothing bad came of these incidents and I passed them on to my co-workers as a reminder that during the warmer months we are dealing more and more with pilots unfamiliar with our field and with procedures outside of a positive-controlled environment. Time to keep our heads up and our feelers out.
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