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Victor Starr |
This article originally appeared in IFR MAGAZINE.
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The FAA hasn't done a very good job of making it easy for pilots and
controllers to say "I've got a problem here and I need some help right now."
Some pilots are under the mistaken impression that controllers are cops, just
waiting to violate them for the slightest transgression of the FARs. And even
if no FARs are busted, you can be certain that an air carrier pilot who
declares an emergency will be explaining why he did so to (at least) his
company. Therefore, pilots often keep quiet about problems when they shouldn't
or play word games with controllers, to avoid the "E- word".
It's frequently the same for controllers. We're sometimes reluctant to take any
action that invites scrutiny of our routine work. An experience I had last year
shows what can happen. During one shift on a typical hectic IFR day in the
TRACON, my frequency died three times. Technicians reviewed the problem, only
to find the "bad" frequency had started working again. After three such outages
(with no repairs) I filed an unsatisfactory condition report (UCR) which goes
straight to Washington and requires an answer to the complaint in writing. Not
surprisingly, facility managers aren't too fond of UCRs.
When my complaint was checked out, my tapes were "dumped" (supposedly to
discover whether the outage really happened) on every position and frequency
I had worked that day, not just the "bad" frequency. The tapes showed that I
had really had a problem.
But in the process, management had my supervisor "counsel" me for bad
phraseology and improper landline usage. The experience hardly encourages one
to draw attention to malfunctions or emergencies.
Nonetheless, when it's necessary, I can't imagine any controller not taking the
initiative with an aircraft (or a controller) in distress. The trick, at least
for a controller, is to figure out how bad things really are for the pilot,
particularly if it's obvious that he or she just doesn't want to admit to a
problem.
Nine times out of ten, an incident that deteriorates into an emergency starts
with hinting. "Well, we're kinda low on fuel but we're not really what you'd
call fuel critical" or "the engine's real rough and making a lot of noise...but
we're not declaring an emergency yet."
In a low traffic area, hinting that a problem exists might convince the
controller to make minor sequencing changes to speed things along. But in a
busy area like New York, traffic flow can be like a giant conga line a hundred
or more miles long.
Changing the sequence is not easy. As they listen on the frequency, pilots form
a mental picture of whose airplane is where. They are well aware when someone
is pushed ahead of them, and they want to know why. Since not everyone is on
the same frequency, all pilots don't always hear the hinting. Complaints are
worse when you work a high percentage of international traffic. I dread the day
when I have a tie with El Al and Saudi-Air, and I have to give one a "spin".
Pilots are forgiving, however, if we say that an emergency exists, even if it
delays their flight. Unless I've heard the "emergency," however, I may be
accused of playing favorites.
Sometimes, a pilot not declaring an emergency puts a controller in a tight
spot. I once worked a Boeing 727 that was unable to climb because of a
mechanical problem. He was just about to depart my airspace but the controller
who was supposed to accept the hand off couldn't take him at the lower
altitude. I had very little room to vector him, and letting him depart before
he climbed would have been an operational error. Without having the priority
an emergency declaration would have allowed, I was stuck. I finally had him fly
tight arcs around a VOR until the problem was fixed.
Both the AIM and the controller's handbook go into a lot of detail about how
emergencies are described and handled. Some of this suggests that there are
steps just shy of really saying emergency.
One we hear a lot is the
minimum-fuel advisory.
We usually respond by asking if the
pilot is declaring an emergency. If the answer is no, the advisory doesn't mean
much. All we can really do is advise the pilot of possible delays. Without an
official emergency, we're told to handle the airplane normally.
The AIM seems to imply that the international urgency message, the words
"pan-pan" repeated three times, is a sort of distress call just short of a real
emergency. But a controller will respond the same way to pan-pan, mayday or
emergency. These demand priority handling and that's what they will get.
If you're in radio contact, just saying emergency is enough. Squawking 7700
will also work, but it's more useful when we're not talking to the pilot or
when the pilot is lost and unsure who he should contact. A 7700 code will blink
in bright shades of green and if we don't see it, someone else (usually the
center) will.
Calling on 121.5 is also a good procedure if you're not in radio contact. It's
monitored at all ATC facilities and aboard many aircraft, including any
National Guard helicopters that happen to be around.
Once you've declared, we notify a supervisor. This is not so he can start
taking notes to violate you but to allow less critical aircraft to be routed
through another controller's airspace. The controller will always try to grant
every request from an emergency aircraft, regardless of what FARs have to be
ignored. If need be, departures may be stopped or arrivals held. I've seen
Kennedy and Laguardia practically shutdown for an inbound emergency aircraft.
If you're in a real bind, no request is too outrageous. We're not allowed to
suggest certain things, like landing off-airport on a highway. But if you wish
to try it, we won't stop you. If you ask, we can provide no-gyro vectors,
the latest weather for the destinations you may be considering, runway and
frequency data and so on. When the weather's really low, we can find out whose
getting in where and then direct you to the nearest airport with the best
weather.
As controllers, we're always being asked by pilots for more direct routes or
higher or lower altitudes, usually with good reason. Yet the rules we operate
under, which are normally kind of gray, are clear when it comes to priority.
We can't give it to you unless you've declared an emergency.