English is the international language of aviation (fortunately for me!), yet we have a further language of our own. The general public will recognise many of the words and terms that we use when speaking on the radio, though their meaning may be incorrectly understood. Take the phrase "roger". Many will have heard this in films where it is commonly used to express ascent to an idea, or as a positive response to a yes-or-no question. It actually means "I understand what you have told me", not that I will act on those instructions or that I agree with you. In many cases 'wilco' (I will comply) would be a more appropriate response, or 'afirm' (affirmative/yes) in those cinematographic scenes. There are loads more: Generally they are acronyms that we throw into the middle of sentences; five-letter names of navigation waypoints - my favourite radio exchange of this nature occurred when a London controller instructed an aircraft to fly direct to DIKAS "uh...hah... direct uuhhh, dick-ass, for (interject american airline of your choice)... can you spell that please" - I may be immature, I laughed a lot; as well as terms such as Flight Level and good-rate.None of that seems relevant seeing as I have stated previously that I will not explain how to fly, and am instead relating how flying has helped to shape me. So here's the link - I have started to interject these terms into my day-to-day vocabulary. I know, what a douche! It isn't intentional. I told myself during training that I wasn't going to be that guy. However, Brest control have a habit of asking us over the radio "What will be your Mach number in the cruise?" (yes, when flying over a large region of France we address air traffic controllers as "Brest". No, unfortunately I have not yet been asked a question by them to which the answer is simply "yes" warranting the response"Afirm Brest". A definite career goal.), a question to which I don't have an immediate answer and appropriately respond "standby". Situations such as the previous, less the digression, happen on a regular basis. My stock response to any question to which I don't know the answer off the top of my head is now "standby".
Last week, I went into Wok-to-Walk for the second time in my life. The girl behind the counter asked me what I would like. "standby..." did I really just say that?! no wonder she looks put out by it. When did you become 'that guy'? She asked me where that was on the menu... I explained that I didn't know what I wanted and asked what she would have if she were to eat right now. Egg noodles, Duck and a coconut based sauce with added chili, beauuuutiful! The point is, I used a term that is every-day and mundane to me and she had no idea what I meant by it. (I'd have thought standby made sense though. Become a by-stander. WAIT)
I've also accidentally slipped the odd "wilco" into conversation, or said "afirm" and had to explain myself on each occasion because the meaning was lost.
In short, we use phrases that most people don't. I need to prevent these from slipping into my social vocabulary.
Cities are verbs...
Doing a Geneva entails a fun approach, where one must calculate their descent point and rate to anticipate severe short-cuts to the planned route from ATC, often with a tail wind, aiming to remain below the ideal vertical profile while adhering to the minimum altitude constraints of the published approach procedure keeping us clear of the rapidly rising terrain. Add to that the likely speed constraints imposed by ATC to facilitate adequate spacing between aircraft flying into a busy airport, and the desire to achieve a Constant Descent Approach where level flight is avoided and it gets quite fun. All of that can be surmised as "pilot-shit", the kind Mav shows Goose. While doing this we get to look out of our big windows. As we leave french airspace and transfer to swiss radar flying East, the view is dominated by the approaching Alps, with Mont Blanc just off the nose, towering over the rest. In the latter stages of the approach we will be witness to one of two awe-inspiring sites, depending on the direction in which we are landing. We will either fly over Lake Geneva with the airport just beyond the shore-line, and the city a little further still with it's enormous water fountain clearly visible to us even 20NM distant, or if we land in a north-easterly direction the final stages are flown with the mountains rising on either side of the aircraft, the city passing beneath and to the right of us.
I won't describe other destinations in such detail, frankly I don't feel like typing that much and I doubt you want to read it, but each has it's own intricacies. Nice is equally beautiful and often requires a visual approach, which is always fun. Murcia is fairly straight forward, but once on the ground you can be blessed with a personal airshow if the Spanish Display Team happen to be practicing overhead. Inverness has immeasurable charm and beauty in the juxtaposition of the oil rigs to raw nature in the bays to the north of the airfield . It is also very grounding, if you'll excuse the pun, in that it is such a small airfield, relatively speaking, that it feels as though commercial jets should not be scheduled to fly to it. It has the feel of a flying club, something I find refreshing and for which I'm always glad when I land here.
These are just a few of my favourites that help to illustrate my point, that to me a city isn't a city. It is the actions one must perform and the experience one has in arriving and departing.
Finally,
"Thank you". It irks me. After we have parked and completed our respective duties, the pilot who flew the approach and landing will often open the flight deck door and say goodbye to the passenger individually as they leave the aircraft. I like doing this. Having spent up to five hours per sector locked in our little box with the most incredible panoramic view of the world, it is nice to stretch my legs and show a face to the adoring (hah!) public and to get a bit of passenger interaction. On such occasions I will tend to say "thank you" followed by some iteration of 'have a nice day' or 'bye' "K THX BYE!" to upwards of 100 people. 'Thank you' now irritates me!
At least I don't have to say it as much as the cabin crew who will have already thanked each customer for their purchase mid-flight and who now say it all again on disembarkation.
They must have nightmares about that phrase!
YOU ARE READING
A Pilot's Perspective...
Non-FictionFlying for a living goes beyond just making a living. Flying shapes my world. From weird working hours, to being asked by friends, taxi drivers and dates what I actually do when I go to work, to regularly seeing Calais and Dover framed in a single w...