Tag Archives: airplanes

Aviation Communications

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It’s not as tough as you think.

When I was learning to fly back in the late 1990s, my flight instructor babied me when it came to radio communication. He did most of the talking. Because I wasn’t forced to talk on the radio during my training, I didn’t get as much practice as I should have. As a result, my radio communication skills were weak — to say the least.

Although I really like my original flight instructor — and still stay in touch with him after all these years — he really wasn’t doing me any favors by handling communication for me. That became apparent when I went through my commercial pilot training and got my commercial pilot certificate. Although I could fly to FAA-established standards, I was a nervous wreck when it came to using the radio.

I eventually learned by doing it. After all, there was no CFI along with me to do the talking, so I had to do it. It took about a year for me to relax and even more time to realize that it wasn’t such a big deal after all.

Misconceptions

The big misconception among pilots in training is that they must use a certain vocabulary and say things in a certain order to communicate with ATC. That is simply not the case.

The goal of radio communications is to simply communicate. How you say it doesn’t matter much as long as the message gets across and two way communication is established when needed.

The Basics of Making a Radio Call

Here’s an example. Suppose I’m flying from Wickenburg to Deer Valley Airport. Wickenburg (E25) is class G, so the only talking I need to do is on unicom for position reports, etc. Deer Valley (DVT) is a busy class D airport on the north side of Phoenix. I need to establish 2-way communication before entering the class D airspace, which starts about 5 miles out from the airport.

What do I need to say? It’s pretty simple:

  • Landing DVTWho I’m talking to: Deer Valley Tower
  • Who I am: helicopter Six-Three-Zero-Mike-Lima
  • Where I am: eight miles northwest
  • What I want: landing terminal helipad
  • ATIS confirmation: with bravo

Ideally, this is the best formula, keeping things short. The initial radio call would be:

Deer Valley Tower, helicopter Six-Three-Zero-Mike-Lima is eight northwest landing terminal helipad with bravo.

But the information doesn’t have to be in that order. I could also say:

Deer Valley Tower, helicopter Six-Three-Zero-Mike-Lima is eight northwest with bravo, landing terminal helipad.

If I leave something out, there’s no reason to panic. The tower will ask for the missing information. So if I leave out the ATIS confirmation, they’ll say something like:

Helicopter Zero-Mike-Lima, verify you have Information Bravo?

Or if I left out my position, they might say:

Helicopter Zero-Mike-Lima, say position?

I’d reply with the missing information:

Affirmative, Zero-Mike-Lima has bravo.

Or:

Helicopter Zero-Mike-Lima is eight miles northwest.

Responding to ATC

When the tower responds to my initial call, all I need to do is repeat back the important part of the instructions. So if the tower says,

Helicopter Six-Three-Zero-Mike-Lima, Deer Valley Tower, report 1 mile north at or below two thousand. Plan midfield crossing at two thousand.

What’s important? RIght now, just to acknowledge that I’ve heard the instructions and will report again a mile north. So I’d say,

Zero-Mike-Lima will report one north.

Done.

I might also include mention of that altitude restriction, but I usually don’t. Why? Because the tower usually repeats it when they clear me to cross the runway. (The helipads are south of the two runways.) So they might say

Helicopter Zero-Mike-Lima, Deer Valley Tower, we have you in sight. Cross both runways midfield at two thousand feet. Landing at the terminal helipad will be at your own risk.

I’d respond:

Zero-Mike-Lima crossing at two thousand.

I don’t have to repeat the risk thing. It’s the altitude restriction that they want to hear.

Note that in my original response, I chopped Six-Three off my call sign. Although a lot of the pilot reference material says not to do this until the tower does, I have never had a problem abbreviating my call sign before ATC does.

If ATC Makes a Mistake

Sadly, its pretty common for the tower to get my N-number wrong. I can’t tell you how often they think I said “Helicopter Six-Zero-Three-Mike-Lima.” They’d respond:

Helicopter Six-Zero-Three-Mike-Lima, Deer Valley Tower, report 1 mile north at or below two thousand. Plan midfield crossing at two thousand.

If they do that, my response to them corrects them using the entire N-number again, with stress on the scrambled characters:

Helicopter Six-THREE-ZERO-Mike-Lima will report one mile north.

In which case they repeat back the N number to correct themselves; no response is necessary.

If You Make a Mistake

I can’t tell you how many times I told a tower I was X miles east when I was really X miles west. Or X miles southwest when I was really X miles southeast. It happens. It’s dumb and sloppy, but it happens. It’s not the end of the world.

If you make a mistake and it’s something you think the tower needs to know, get back on the radio and correct yourself:

Sorry, Tower, Helicopter Zero-Mike-Lima is really eight northEAST.

I usually put the stress on the word(s) that correct what I got wrong the first time. The tower will repeat it back and you don’t need to respond unless you get new instructions.

You don’t have to tell the tower about every single mistake you make. Maybe you told the tower you were 12 miles out and you’re really only 11. Not a big deal. Direction is far more important so the tower knows what direction they should be looking for you.

Leaving Out Your N-Number

It’s very important to include your N-number — either the whole thing or the abbreviated version — in every communication with a tower. I recently heard an exchange between a tower and a pilot who neglected to mention his N-number. The tower basically ignored him for two or three calls, then chewed him out over the radio. How embarrassing.

The tower was right, though. If you don’t give your N-number, the tower doesn’t know who’s talking. How can it answer and provide instructions?

I’ll be the first to admit that I occasionally omit my N-Number when I’m having a “conversation” with a tower. For example, if a tower asks a direct question:

Helicopter Zero-Mike-Lima, confirm you have information Bravo.

I might answer:

That’s affirmative.

It’s also wrong. The only reason I get away with it is because (1) I immediately answered a question directed to me and (2) I am likely the only female pilot flying a helicopter in that airspace at that moment. It’s simple voice recognition on the part of the controller. But he has every right to demand I answer properly and I have no right to expect him to distinguish my voice from anyone else’s.

Requesting a Frequency Change

Deer Valley and ScottsdaleIn the Phoenix area, there’s less than a mile between the Deer Valley class D airspace and the Scottsdale class D airspace. The towers know this, of course, so if you’re flying from one to the other, they usually give you a frequency change when you’re less than three miles from the airport you’re leaving. Even if you didn’t ask for it, they’ll say something like:

Helicopter Zero-Mike-Lima, frequency change approved.

But sometimes they don’t cut you loose. Maybe they forgot. Maybe they’re busy. Maybe there’s traffic in your area and they want to be able to talk to you. Who knows? It doesn’t really matter. It’s pretty handy to get an early frequency change so you can listen to the ATIS and prepare for your radio call to the next tower.

To ask for it, just say:

Deer Valley Tower, Helicopter Zero-Mike-Lima requests frequency change.

The response will likely be:

Helicopter Zero-Mike-Lima, frequency change approved. Good day.

You can now change the radio frequency while still in their airspace.

Transitioning

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve avoided airspace just so I didn’t have to talk to a controller. I don’t do that anymore. Transitioning through the edge of a class D or C or even B surface airspace is easy. Just remember the formula:

  • Transition ExampleWho I’m talking to: Scottsdale Tower
  • Who I am: helicopter Six-Three-Zero-Mike-Lima
  • Where I am: six miles west
  • What I want: transition southeast through the southwest side of the airspace
  • ATIS confirmation: with bravo

So the call might be:

Scottsdale Tower, helicopter Six-Three-Zero-Mike-Lima is six miles west with bravo. I’d like to transition southeast through the southwest side of your airspace.

If you don’t mention the ATIS, no big deal. You’re not landing there, so you don’t need it. Chances are, they’ll give you the current altimeter setting anyway. They might say something like this:

Helicopter Six-Three-Zero-Mike-Lima, Scottsdale Tower, proceed as requested. Scottsdale altimeter two-niner-niner-seven.

I usually respond with something like,

Two-niner-niner-seven, Zero-Mike-Lima.

Or sometimes I just repeat my abbreviated N-number to acknowledge that I heard them. That’s it. When I’m clear of the airspace, if the tower frequency isn’t busy, I’ll say something like,

Scottsdale tower, helicopter Zero-Mike-Lima is clear to the south.

Otherwise, I don’t bother.

Unusual Requests

Once in a while, you might have an unusual request — something beyond simply coming or going or transitioning. I had one of these a few weeks ago.

A client wanted a custom tour of the Phoenix area that included circling five different addresses. When I plotted the addresses on SkyVector to create a flight plan, I realized that I’d be passing through and circling within Phoenix Sky Harbor class B and Chandler class D airspaces. The flight required me to talk to Glendale tower on departure, Phoenix tower on transition, Chandler tower for operation in the northeast corner of their airspace, Phoenix tower again for operation in their surface area before another transition, and back to Glendale tower for landing. All within about an hour.

Flight from Hell

Even though I’m pretty confident these days about my radio communication skills, I admit that I was nervous about this one — especially since most of the addresses we needed to circle were in subdivisions filled with lots of homes that look nearly identical from the air. I didn’t want my client disappointed, so navigation was a huge issue.

What is it they say about pilot priorities? Aviate, navigate, communicate. Of the three, the flying would be the easiest part!

Amazingly, this came off without a hitch. Why? Because I remembered the primarily goal of radio communication: to communicate what you need. So, for example, when I was still 10 miles out from Chandler, I said something like:

Chandler Tower, Helicopter Six-Three-Zero-Mike-Lima is ten miles northwest. We need to take some aerial photos of three targets in the northwest corner of your space. The closest to the airport is at Route 202 and Alma School.

The tower came back with:

Helicopter Zero Mike Lima, Chandler Tower. What altitude do you need?

Duh. I should have mentioned the altitude. But no big deal, huh? The tower just asked me for the information they needed. I replied:

Helicopter Zero-Mike-Lima will stay at or below two thousand feet.

To which they replied:

Helicopter Zero-Mike-Lima, you can proceed as requested. Chandler altimeter is three-zero-one-one. Report on point.

What he did was give me permission to do the job but also to let him know when I was at each location I needed to circle. I replied with my abbreviated N-number to let him know I’d heard him. Then, when I got to the first address, I said:

Chandler Tower, Helicopter Zero-Mike-Lima is on point at the first target.

To which he replied,

Helicopter Zero-Mike-Lima, thank you.

We repeated this exchange two more times. He also advised me of some traffic when I was at my second target; the traffic was at least 300 feet above me and not a factor. When I finished with the last target and departed to the north, I said:

Chandler Tower, helicopter Zero-Mike-Lima is clear to the north. Thanks for your help. Good day.

Although there was only one target in the Phoenix class B surface area, there was also another helicopter just outside the surface space, about a mile east of me, circling. The tower was busy with jets, but they also had to advise me of this traffic, which they saw on radar but weren’t talking to. Fortunately, I saw it both on my helicopter’s traffic information system (at my altitude!) and then visually. I was able to confirm that I would keep visual separation. We circled the site and departed to the north.

I like to think of this flight as my “final exam” in aviation communication. I passed.

Just Communicate

If you’re a pilot struggling with communication, relax. Magic words and phrases aren’t necessary. Just communicate. Tell the tower what you want. Believe me — they’ve heard it all. No matter how bad you think you are on the radio, there was someone worse only an hour ago.

Air traffic controllers are professionals. They deal with it. Do your best and you’ll do good enough.

And the more often you communicate while flying, the better you’ll get.

Blogging the FARs: Avoid the Flow of Fixed Wing Traffic

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What it means — and doesn’t mean.

I was at Wickenburg Airport for a short time yesterday and was dismayed to see another helicopter pilot practicing autorotations using a left traffic pattern for the taxiway parallel to Runway 23. In Wickenburg, it’s right traffic for Runway 23, keeping the airplanes on the northwest side of the runway. There are fewer houses out that way; a left traffic pattern would have you overflying dozens of homes.

Someone else at the airport told me that the owners of the homes southeast of the runway had asked this pilot several times not to overfly their homes. They were bothered by the noise of his buzzing aircraft just 500 feet over their houses over and over again. He replied that he was supposed to “avoid the flow of fixed wing traffic.” When one of the nicest guys on the airport suggested he fly on the other side, this pilot’s response was, “Fuck you.” Whoa. Seems like someone has an attitude problem.

But is he right? Should he be doing left traffic patterns if the airplanes would be doing right patterns?

The Rules

FAR Part 91.126, “Operating on or in the vicinity of an airport in Class G airspace,” says, in part:

(a) General. Unless otherwise authorized or required, each person operating an aircraft on or in the vicinity of an airport in a Class G airspace area must comply with the requirements of this section.

(b) Direction of turns. When approaching to land at an airport without an operating control tower in Class G airspace —

(1) Each pilot of an airplane must make all turns of that airplane to the left unless the airport displays approved light signals or visual markings indicating that turns should be made to the right, in which case the pilot must make all turns to the right; and

(2) Each pilot of a helicopter or a powered parachute must avoid the flow of fixed-wing aircraft.

To some, it might appear that Part 91.126(b)(2) gives helicopter pilots permission to fly wherever they want in Class G airspace, as long as it’s not anywhere near an airplane. Maybe that’s what our attitude-challenged helicopter pilot at Wickenburg thinks. But I’d argue that it’s simply not true.

Why Avoid the Flow? Why Not Join It?

Wickeburg Airport

Wickenburg Airport, from the approach end of Runway 05.

Helicopters are advised to avoid the flow of fixed-wing traffic mostly because of the significant differences in the way they operate. Helicopters are usually slower than airplanes, they tend to operate at lower altitudes, and they don’t need a runway to land or take off. Putting airplanes and helicopters together in a traffic pattern is like mixing oil and water: they just won’t blend.

But does avoiding the flow of fixed wing traffic mean creating a completely separate traffic pattern? Sometimes, it does.

Does it mean making yourself a noisy nuisance over a residential neighborhood on the side of the airport that normally doesn’t have aircraft flying over it? I say it doesn’t.

And what if there aren’t any airplanes in the traffic pattern? I’ll argue that there’s nothing to avoid so why not use their established, community-preferred traffic pattern?

And that was the problem yesterday: the bad attitude pilot was the only aircraft in the traffic pattern for the entire time he was flying yesterday. There was no fixed-wing traffic to avoid.

There was no reason to overfly those homes.

Fly Neighborly

Although I’m not a big fan of Helicopter Association International (HAI), I do want to commend them on their attempts (although usually feeble) to share information that’s useful to the helicopter community. Among that information is “The Fly Neighborly Guide” they offer as a PDF download from their site. Here’s a blurb about the program from their site:

The Fly Neighborly Program addresses noise abatement and public acceptance objectives with programs in the following areas: 

  • Pilot and operator awareness
  • Pilot training and indoctrination
  • Flight operations planning
  • Public acceptance and safety
  • Sensitivity to the concerns of the community

The point is, lots of people hate helicopters because they’re noisy. (In reality, they’re not all that much more noisy than an airplane. But because they usually fly lower, they seem louder.) By using techniques that help us fly more quietly and avoiding noise-sensitive areas, we’ll blend in with the environmental impact of aircraft traffic much better.

What does that mean to me? Well, here are some of the things I try to do:

  • Maintain speed above 80 knots in my R44 to avoid “rotor slap.”
  • Not fly low over homes, schools, or businesses.
  • Vary the flight path I use to approach or depart the airport.
  • When flying traffic patterns, choose a pattern that does not repeatedly overfly the same noise-sensitive areas. (Yes, the other day when I was practicing autorotations at Wickenburg, I shared the same standard traffic pattern with three airplanes.)

I do need to point out here that anyone who buys a home within 3 miles of an airport should expect some level of noise. If you don’t like aircraft noise, don’t buy a home near an airport. Period.

Why I Care

Why should I care that a bad attitude pilot is thumbing his nose (and perhaps making other hand gestures) at people who complain about his inconsiderate flying?

AFD for E25

The Airport/Facilities Directory entry for Wickenburg.

Well, it’s like this. Right now, at Wickenburg, there is no published noise abatement procedure. Look in the Airport/Facilities Directory and see for yourself. (Try not to notice that the diagram is inaccurate on so many levels.) That means pilots have the freedom to make their own decisions about approaching and departing the airport. We’re not forced to follow some idiotic plan set forth by an ignorant non-flyer in response to noise complaints.

But if Mr. Bad Attitude keeps ignoring the complaints and overflying the same homes again and again, the complaints will get escalated. I’m not too worried about the town doing anything — they’re extremely ineffective when it comes to solving airport-related problems. But eventually, it’ll get up to the FAA. Enough people know it’s not me — a bright red Robinson R44 looks nothing like a little white Schweitzer 300 — so I won’t get in trouble. But the FAA might actually do something to make the complaints go away. Since Mr. Bad Attitude isn’t technically doing anything wrong, the only way to fix the problem is a noise abatement program. The FAA will push the town to make one and we’ll be stuck with it.

What’s also bad is that his continued inconsiderate behavior makes everyone in the helicopter community look bad — including me and the two other helicopter owners based in town. It could cause problems in Wickenburg or other communities for helicopter pilots and operators. It could affect businesses like mine or emergency services. (Come to think of it, one of the reasons our hospital lost its helicopter medevac base was noise complaints. So if you have a heart attack in Wickenburg, you’ll just have to wait an extra 20-30 minutes for help to come.)

And all this is why I care.

In Summary

When helicopter pilots are advised to “avoid the flow of fixed-wing traffic,” that doesn’t mean we should avoid flying in empty airplane traffic patterns. It means we should avoid flying with airplanes.

It also doesn’t mean we should use FAR 91.126(b)(2) as an excuse to become a nuisance by repeatedly overflying noise-sensitive areas.

If there’s no conflicting aircraft, common sense should prevail.

Why I Don’t Buy Fuel at Wickenburg Airport

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Why should I?

Early this season, back in November 2009, I realized that if I wanted my helicopter charter business to succeed, I had to move it out of Wickenburg. That meant finding a secure and affordable hangar in the Phoenix area for the times I expected to do business down there. The plan was for my helicopter to split its time between its Wickenburg hangar and one down in Phoenix or Scottsdale, where my customers were.

After making a few calls and visiting a few airport FBOs, I got what I considered a very good deal from Atlantic Aviation in Deer Valley. For less than I pay for my [admittedly large] hangar at Wickenburg, my helicopter would be stored in a spotlessly clean corporate hangar* only steps away from the terminal building at Deer Valley Airport. If that wasn’t enough to sell me, Atlantic’s line crew would move the helicopter in and out for me at no extra cost. And I’d get a significant discount on fuel purchase. Fuel, of course, was delivered to my aircraft from a truck, so I didn’t have deal with dirty fuel hoses and temperamental fuel systems and the occasional “Out of Fuel” sign.

Sounds good, huh? Well it gets even better.

Nearly everyone at Atlantic knows me by name and greets me with a friendly smile and cheerful “Hello!” When I come in from a flight, the folks at the desk offer me (and my passengers) bottles of icy cold water. The restrooms are sparkling clean and — can you imagine? — always have soap, paper towels, and a clean, fresh smell. If I need to wait for a passenger to arrive, I can do so in a comfortable seating area while watching whatever is on the high definition, flat screen television. If I need to park my good car at the airport for a few nights, they’ll take it inside the airport fence for me and park it in a secure area, where I don’t have to worry about airport lowlifes tampering with it.

On the rare occasion when I do have a complaint — the only time I can think of is when my dust-covered helicopter was taken out in the rain for a few minutes and all that dust turned into big, ugly rain spots — my complaint gets handled quickly, to my satisfaction, without any further ado. With an apology that’s meant. It’s like they realize they have a responsibility and they’re ready to take care of what they need to. (In the instance of my helicopter, they actually washed it for me.)

So to summarize: at Deer Valley I get great service from friendly people who know how to do their job. Getting my helicopter out on the ramp, fueled, and ready for me to preflight and fly is as easy as making a phone call. My monthly rent is reasonable and I get a discount on all fuel purchases.

How much of a discount? Funny you should ask. I’m currently paying about 50¢ less per gallon for full service fuel at Deer Valley than I am for self-serve fuel in Wickenburg. Since I burn about 16 gallons per hour, that saves me $8 every single hour I fly. Since I fly 200 hours a year, that can save me $1,600 over the course of a year. (Ironically, when I ran the FBO at Wickenburg, I was the single biggest buyer of fuel in 2003.)

But it’s not just the money I save that has me buying nearly all of my fuel at Deer Valley these days. It’s the service. That’s something you simply can’t get these days in Wickenburg.

Think the situation at Deer Valley is unusual? Then look at yesterday. I had a charter originating at another Phoenix area airport — one I rarely use. When my passengers arrived, I immediately noticed that one of them had trouble getting around. Since the helicopter was parked quite a distance away from the terminal, I asked the guy at the desk if they could run us all out to the helicopter in their golf cart. No problem. They had the cart ready at the ramp before we even reached it. When I returned from the flight, a quick call on the radio had the cart back in position before my blades had even stopped. But the kicker? When I discovered that the per gallon price of fuel was a penny higher than it was in Wickenburg, I asked for a discount. And even though I only bought a total of 43 gallons (10 before the flight and a top-off after it), they took off 20¢ per gallon.

Other airport FBOs also provide real service. Scottsdale’s Landmark Aviation greets me with a golf cart, offers me and my passengers bottles of water and fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies. On a recent trip, they even arranged ground transportation for my passengers. I get service at nearly every airport I go to: Falcon Field, Sky Harbor, Glendale, Sedona, Grand Canyon, Page, Monument Valley, Flagstaff, Winslow, Lake Havasu, Bullhead City, Parker — the list goes on and on.

Except Wickenburg.

Wickenburg’s terminal building is kept locked up tight unless they’re expecting a jet. There’s no one there to greet you — let alone smile at you. The bathrooms, which are accessible via keypad-locked door, are usually dirty and seldom have soap. There’s no counter to set down your sunglasses or purse; the moron who redesigned them obviously cared more about how it would look when new than how functional it might be. There’s no comfortable place to wait or to greet passengers. The pop machine is locked up inside the building, so if you’re thirsty, you’re out of luck. The fuel hoses are dirty, the nozzles leak, the static cable has burrs that’ll cut your hand open if you’re not careful. The only fuel truck is for JetA and it’s only available if you call ahead. If no one answers the phone, you’ll be pumping your own JetA, after taxiing your multi-million dollar aircraft up to the self-serve pump. The windsocks aren’t replaced until they’ve rotted away and the pilots complain. And if you’re in a helicopter, be careful of the FOD on the ramp — some of the short 2x4s they use as chocks tend to become airborne in helicopter downwash.

There’s virtually no airport security and airport management — which barely exists — doesn’t seem to care about the airport’s resident low-life, who vandalizes airport and personal property and steals things from the parked vehicles of people he doesn’t like.

I don’t know any local pilot who buys fuel in Wickenburg if he doesn’t have to. For most of them, though, the issue is price. That’s enough to keep them away from the pumps. I don’t think they expect the kind of service a real FBO offers. They just think Wickenburg charges too much for fuel — and they’re right. How can you charge more that most airports in the state when you don’t provide any services to go with it?

What are people paying for?

I know what I’m paying for. And I’m not buying it at Wickenburg Airport.

—
* To be fair, Atlantic’s hangar in Deer Valley is a shared hangar. The only thing I can store there is my helicopter, its ground handling equipment, and a storage locker for small items such as the dual controls, life vests, and extra oil. It’s not as if I’m getting a cheap private hangar; I’m not. This is, however, what I need on a part-time basis, so it works extremely well for me.

Yes, Most Helicopter Operations ARE VFR

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And I always assumed most helicopter magazine editors-in-chief were helicopter pilots.

Batten down the hatches and prepare for another rant. Not a big one, but one that needs to be shared with my fellow helicopter pilots.

Rotor & WingYesterday, I got around to reading the February 2010 issue of Rotor & Wing. Rotor & Wing used to be the premier helicopter industry magazine. Somewhere along the way, it turned into a monthly collection of press releases, advertisements, and columns about narrow segments of the helicopter population: North Sea, Military, etc. It improved a bit under the editorial guidance of Ernie Stephens, who added a Helicopter Training column and made some design changes. Now there’s some information of interest to mere mortal commercial operators like me who have absolutely no interest in the politics of the North Sea or unmanned reconnoissance aircraft.

When I read a magazine, I always start with the editor’s page up front. This one, by Editor-in-Chief Joy Finnegan, really stuck in my craw. Titled “Stay Proficient,” it wasn’t about practicing emergency procedures, flying with a CFI, or even staying current with night flight. Instead, it zeroed in on an accident that had been caused by a pilot’s attempt to fly VFR at night into IMC conditions. In other words, a stupid pilot trick.

That didn’t bother me. It’s always good to analyze the mistakes of other pilots and use their situations and decisions as learning tools to avoid the same mistakes in the future. I have done so on several occasions in this blog. (For examples, read “Not Ready for Solo?,” “What if You Crashed a Helicopter and Didn’t Tell Anyone?,” and “Chasing Race Cars Isn’t For Every Pilot.”)

What bothered me were the few revealing statements about her own experience that Ms. Finnegan made, starting with:

I was shocked to learn that many helicopter pilots not only rarely fly IFR, they don’t even bother to keep current.

Hello? Ms. Finnegan? I’d venture to guess that half the helicopter pilots out there — many of which are flying tour, charter, air-taxi, survey, and utility work — don’t even have instrument ratings. I can think of at least a dozen helicopter pilots I know personally who don’t — including me.

She goes on to relate how every flight she did as a commercial airplane pilot was flown IFR, regardless of the weather. She then goes on to make what I consider an insulting statement:

VFR was for amateurs, weekend puddle-jumper jockeys who were out for their $100 hamburger flight.

Nice attitude about your fellow pilots, Ms. Finnegan.

But here’s the paragraph that made me wonder why this woman is Editor-in-Chief of what may still be the best known and most widely read helicopter industry magazine:

But I understand that it’s just the opposite for helicopter operators and that the vast majority of flights conducted in helicopters are VFR. I have also heard that some operators even discourage operations under IFR (again I’m talking flight rules not IMC). This is so very contrary to the way the fixed-wing world works that I had to call around and make sure I understood the situation correctly. After many calls and e-mails, I’m still having difficulty with the concept.

Then why the hell are you editing a helicopter magazine?

I don’t know about the rest of the helicopter pilots out there, but when I turn to a magazine about helicopters and helicopter flight, I want the person responsible for the magazine’s content to be a helicopter pilot. I want that person to know at least what I know about flying helicopters, but preferably more.

And taking two paragraphs to share her own stupid airplane pilot trick — perhaps to show off her ability to follow the instructions of ATC or brag about her coolness in a tough situation — really doesn’t make me feel any better about her experience, capabilities, or connection to the helicopter world.

Instead, I’m left angry by being fed advice by someone who obviously doesn’t have a clue about what helicopter operations are all about.

Making Cockpit Management Tasks Easier

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Some tips for helicopter pilots (and others).

One of the disadvantages of being on the controls of a helicopter is that you pretty much always have to have at least one hand on the controls. Most helicopters do not have autopilots and, in my experience, I’ve found that releasing the cyclic while in flight is a good way to begin undesired aerobatic maneuvers that are likely prohibited by the Pilot Operating Handbook (POH).

The more you fly a helicopter, the more accustomed you are to dealing with one-handed chores like dialing in radio frequencies, adjusting the altimeter, fiddling with the GPS, and even folding maps. But for new pilots and pilots flying to, from, or through busy airspace, navigating and dealing with other cockpit management chores can be a real challenge.

The key to dealing with this gracefully is preparation. Here are some of the things I’ve come up with.

Organize in Advance

I don’t think there’s any simpler or more important tip to share. By organizing your cockpit in advance, you’ll know exactly where everything is and be able to reach it when you need it. I’m talking mostly about things like checklists, charts, pens, flight plans, and notes. But this could also include navigational aids like a handheld GPS, performance charts, and water or snacks.

Organized!

My seat pocket includes charts and checklists; my passenger’s seat pocket includes marketing material and souvenir postcards.

There’s nothing that bugs me more than when an aircraft mechanic or cleaner or some other pilot moves the things I keep in the pocket under my legs in my aircraft. That’s where I should find all the charts I use regularly, my preflight briefing card (for passenger briefings), my emergency checklist, and my startup/shutdown checklists with performance charts. These are things I sometimes need to reach for in flight — I want them exactly where I expect them to be — not under the seat or in the back or in the seat pocket of the front passenger seat.

By always having things like this in the same place, I can always find them where I expect them to be. This reduces workload in flight — I don’t have to hunt around to find them when I might also need to do something else.

Use an Airport Frequency Cheat Sheet

Airport Frequency Cheat SheetI’ve had one of these on board since I bought my first helicopter, an R22 Beta II, back in 2000. It’s a standard letter size sheet of paper with a four-column grid on it. The columns list Airport Names, Elevations, Tower/CTAF Frequencies, and ATIS/AWOS/ASOS Frequencies. Each row is for a different airport in the areas of Arizona where I fly. The type is purposely large, so I can read it from a distance. The entire sheet is laminated so it doesn’t get beat up.

In Robinson helicopters, the floor at the pilot’s seat is carpeted but covered with a sheet of clear plastic. I slip my cheat sheet under the plastic so it’s at my feet. When I fly, I can shift one or both feet aside to get a look at the sheet to find a frequency I need. This is a lot quicker and easier than consulting a chart or fiddling with a GPS to get the same information.

Of course, if you don’t want to go all out and create one of these for everyday use, you should consider creating one for the flight you’re going to take. It can be much smaller — perhaps index card size — so you can slip it in a pocket when not in use. My husband uses sticky notes that he affixes to the yoke of his airplane. Same idea. He doesn’t fly as often as I do or to as many places, so that meets his needs.

Configure Your Charts in Advance

TripTik and Cheat Sheet

My cheat sheet under the plastic carpet protector and my TripTik on the Robinson-designed GPS tray I use to mount cameras and display charts.

By “configure,” I mean fold open to the area of the chart you’ll need to consult enroute. For most helicopter cross-country flights, you’ll likely use only a few panels of a single chart. But if you’re going on a long cross-country flight, you’ll likely need to fold open more than one chart — or fold the chart you need in a way that it’s easy to get to all panels you’re likely to need. Large paperclips or binder clips can come in handy to keep the chart open the way you need it.

A very smart pilot navigating through a new area will likely use a highlighter — pink and orange work best — to highlight his intended route. This makes it very easy to find the line you’re supposed to be on and keep track of landmarks you fly over as you go.

I’ve actually gone a step farther with this idea. I’ve created a “TripTik” (think AAA) by cutting old charts into pieces that I laminated and put on binder rings. I can clip this loose binder full of map segments to a platform I recently had mounted in my helicopter. As I fly, I can flip through the pages to see the segment I need. It was time consuming and tedious to create and it isn’t quite perfect yet, but it sure does make it easier to manage my charts. (You can see a video about it below.) And yes, I still do have all the up-to-date charts I need on board for every flight.

What’s that you say? You have a whiz-bang moving map GPS so you don’t need charts? Try telling that to an FAA inspector. And then think about what might happen if you didn’t have charts handy, weren’t paying much attention to where you might be, and that GPS dropped dead. That was the topic of an AOPA video I saw a long time ago and it’s stuck with me ever since. Situational awareness is vital to flight. Don’t depend on a GPS to tell you where you are. When flying in an unfamiliar area, always keep track of where you are on a chart.

One more thing about charts: make sure the one you’re carrying is the current one. Airport information and frequencies change. Having the wrong information about an airport you’re landing at or flying near can get you in trouble, as this story relates.

Punch in a Flight Plan

If you do have a GPS, make the most of it by punching in a flight plan before lifting off. This is extremely useful when doing a cross-country flight through relatively busy airspace.

For example, when I fly from Phoenix, AZ to Torrance, CA in the Los Angeles area, I fly through about two hours of wide open, empty desert, stop for fuel, and then spend another two hours threading my way though the busy airspace of Riverside and Orange Counties. This can get really intense, especially when LA’s famous smog has settled in the valleys and visibility is right around minimums. Although I mostly follow roads, I use waypoints along the way to make sure I don’t take the wrong exit (so to speak). Punching these waypoints — airports and GPS waypoints on the LA terminal area chart — into my GPS not only helps keep me on course, but it displays the upcoming waypoint and my distance from it so I can make intelligent radio calls when passing through.

While lots of pilots learn how to use the Go To feature of their GPS and stop there, learning how to enter a full flight plan is far more beneficial on a long flight. Suppose I decided to use Go To to move from one waypoint to the next. That means that as I’m passing through Fullerton’s airspace, I might be trying to punch in Long Beach’s waypoint. While keeping an eye out for other helicopter traffic in the busy 91/5 intersection area. And keeping to a restricted altitude. And dialing Long Beach’s frequency into standby. I don’t know about you, but that’s more of a workload than I want when visibility is 3-1/2 miles in smog. Using the flight plan feature to have all waypoints entered in advance significantly reduces the workload in flight.

Get a Capable Companion Involved

If you’re not flying solo, you may be able to shift some of the work to the person sitting beside you — but only if that person is willing and able to perform the tasks you need done promptly, with the minimal amount of instruction.

I’m lucky. My husband is a pilot, too. He knows how to tune in radio frequencies and use the Go To feature on my helicopter’s GPS. He can read a chart and pull off radio frequencies. He knows how to look for traffic. When we fly together, we share the workload. Since he’s got his helicopter rating, too, I usually put the duals in and he does most of the flying while I handle the cockpit chores.

Not everyone is as lucky. Some companions just can’t figure things out — even the simple things, like tuning in a radio. Entering busy airspace is not the time to teach them. Do it yourself — it’ll be quicker and safer. If you’ll be flying often with a person, give him some training when you’re just out cruising around so he’ll be ready to help you when you’re in busy airspace and can really use a hand.

And even if your companion is capable of doing things, he might not want to. As I mentioned, my husband is a pilot and can read a chart. But is he willing to monitor our progress on a chart in flight? No. He’s not a map person and simply doesn’t like using any kind of map unless he needs to.

I’m exactly the opposite. If I’m not flying, I’ve got that chart open on my knees and can tell you exactly where we are — well, to the nearest finger-width, anyway. I recently had an excursion passenger who was the same way. At the start of each leg of our trip, I’d configure a map for her and show her roughly where we were going. Although she had some trouble tracking our progress on the unfamiliar aeronautical chart format, she put in a good effort and did pretty darn well.

Plan Thoroughly

Of course, to punch in a flight plan and configure your charts, you must have a clear idea of where you’re going. That’s what flight planning is all about. Don’t just wing it (no pun intended) — plan it out completely so you know where you’re going and how you’ll get there.

I can’t stress how important this is for a long cross-country flight. You’ll need to examine the entire route on a current chart to make sure it doesn’t pass through hot MOAs or restricted areas. You’ll need to know where you can find fuel or lunch or maybe even a hotel along the way. You’ll need to learn about weather and NOTAMs and TFRs on your flight path. And you’ll need to get familiar with the layouts of the airports you’ll be landing at.

This is really part of flight planning the stuff you’re supposed to do before you crank up the engine — not cockpit management. But without a solid flight plan, you won’t be able to properly prepare as outlined above to make your cockpit management tasks easier.

Got Your Own Tips to Share?

If you’re an experienced pilot — helicopter or airplane — and have some other tips to share, please do. Use the Comments link for this post to get a discussion going.