Tag: air traffic controller

Anthologies: le diable à 37,0000 pieds

Post author By Stanley
Post date 3 November 2015

There are seven very interesting articles, in the non-fiction category, in this anthology. Published between 2009 and 2013 in publications like The New Yorker, Vanity Fair, Esquire, Men’s Journal or Q2U.S, they allow the reader to catch-up on events that happened around the planet.

Those stories received a lot of attention from the medias since they covered popular topics like a mid-air collision between two jets, a jewel heist by the Pink Panthers, a botched covered operation by Mossad, wild animals freed by their owner near a small American city, the son of a wealthy American who suddenly leaves United States for Lybia to fight against Khadafi. The reader can also learn more about Apollo Robbins, the king of pickpockets and, finally, comes the weird story of a film making that started in 2006 in Ukraine and is still not ready today.

Le diable à 37,000 pieds (The Devil at 37,000 feet)

This story presents all the elements that contributed to create a mid-air collision: a new crew recently trained on an aircraft loaded with a modern technology that makes flight management more complicated than anything else; air traffic controllers letting their expectations impear their judgment; tired and under pressure careless pilots; passengers disturbing the flying crew by visiting the cockpit on multiple occasions.

It is paradoxal to realize that the extreme precision offered by modern flight navigation equipment also increases the possibility that two aircrafts hit each other in flight.

Pink Panthers

A popular name that sends the reader back to the movies where Peter Sellers played a distracted police inspector. But the article is about the real thing: What circumstances favored the creation and international development of the multiple groups of thiefs that came to be known as the Pink Panthers.

The different Pink Panthers groups have robbed more than 152 jewelry stores since 2002 and pocketed around 250 million dollars. The reader learns that most Pink Panthers members come from the Balkan region and that they operate from Italy, France, Belgium, the Netherlands, Denmark and Switzerland.

The author uses the opportunity to explain how the Milosevic’s gangster regime was put in place in Serbia, a State transformed into a criminal business: “In March 2001, soon after the fall of Milosevic, we discovered, in a safe rented by municipal civil servants from a Belgrade bank, more than 660 kilos of a 93% pure heroin, valued at approximately 100 million dollars on the street”.

Montenegro is also associated with significant banditry and the author tells us about a meeting he had in that region with a former Pink Panthers. In order for criminal groups to survive and develop, there is an essential collaboration with politicians and the border services staff.

Opération Dubaï (Dubaï Operation)

In January 2010, a Mossad team lands in Dubaï with the intention of killing Mahmoud al-mabhouh. The agents are part of an ultra-secret section called “Césarée”. Although they reached their goal, the mission was somewhat a failure since it was possible to determine very rapidly who were the killers, which embarrassed Israël.

The article recounts the general progress of the operation in Dubaï and enhances the important mistakes that eventually damaged the Mossad’s reputation for efficiency.

Here are some of those mistakes:

1. Agents are sitting for hours in a hotel lobby, thus attracting the staff’s attention.

2. Two members of the team head towards the hotel washrooms, where they change their appearance by using a wig and sunglasses, all this while their physical transformation is filmed by an hotel camera positioned near the toilet’s door.

3. The man in charge of planning the covert operation has a huge ego and does not tolerate criticism or a difference of opinion.

4. Carelessness is shown when the team members are equipped with Payoneer prepaid calling cards. Those cards are mostly used in United States and the Payoneer’s director, Yuval Tal, is a veteran of the Israel’s Defence Force elite commando. While they were at it, why not give a Mossad colored business card directly?

5. The person in charge of the operation greatly underestimates the capacity and will of Dubaï’s police force to find the culprits behind Mahmoud al-mabhouh’s death.

6. Every phone call made by the team transit through the same system located in Austria.

An increase in the number of operations lead by Mossad certainly contributed to the non-compliance with respect to the security protocol. Meir Dagan eventually had to step down and the relations between the Mossad and other occidental intelligence services were impacted.

La désertion des animaux du zoo (Animals)

This is a very interesting account of an incident that made the news around the world. At the end of 2011, in Zanesville, Ohio, the owner of about fifty wild animals killed himself, not without having precedently opened the cages of all the wild animals he was keeping on his private property.

The story allows us to share a bit of the emotions lived by the inhabitants living close to the private zoo. We witness the quick reaction and organization needed to face the lions, tigers and bears that are now free to go where they want in the fields near Zanesville. It’s a very well written story.

Vacances de printemps arabe (Arab Spring Break)

This is the story of a rich American who abandons his wealthy neighborhood to go fight against Khadafi in Lybia. This type of story, told with a humoristic approach, was possibly quite amusing in 2012. But with the departure of numerous young kids gone to join ISIS during the past few years, the tone used in the article is now kind of awkward.

Le roi des pickpockets (A Pickpocket’s Tale)

The article is about the life of Apollo Robbins, a now internationally famous pickpocket that has appeared on multiple TV programs around the world, among them National Geographic’s “Brain Games”.

Un tournage pris dans l’engrenage (The Movie Set That Ate Itself)

Through the account of a movie director’s eccentric behaviour in Kharkov, Ukraine, the reader is made aware of the exaggerated control that a human can impose on other persons. It also shows the easiness with which people are ready to accept a totalitarian control in their life. All this while the movie itself is about the dictatorship lived in Russia, more precisely in Moscow, during the fifties and sixties.

Title : Le diable à 37000 pieds
Éditions du sous-sol, Paris ©2011, 2012,2013 for the French translation
Feuilleton magazine pocket anthology (Non-Fiction)
ISBN : 978-2-36468-036-4

Original English version:

The Devil at 37,000 Feet: in Vanity Fair, ©2009, William Langewiesche
The Pink Panthers: in The New Yorker, ©2010, David Samuels
The Dubaï Job: in Q2U.S, ©2011, Ronen Bergman
Animals: in Esquire, ©2012, Chris Jones
Arab Spring Break: in Men’s Journal, ©2012, Joshua Davis
A Pickpocket’s Tale: in The New Yorker, ©2013, Adam Green
The Movie Set That Ate Itself: in Q2U.S, ©2011, Michael Idov

Real life stories as a flight service specialist (FSS): Rouyn-Noranda FSS

Fictive official procedures at the Val-d’Or control tower

Post author By Stanley
Post date 15 April 2015

Medical evacuation aircraft HS-125 C-FSEN Valentine Lupien of the Quebec Government, around 1986.

During the eighties, while I was working as a flight service specialist (FSS) at the Transport Canada flight service station in Rouyn-Noranda (CYUY), I received a phone call from a Val-d’Or air traffic controller. He told me that there was a problem with the type K ARCAL. The ARCAL allows a pilot to remotely activate the runway lights.

Normally, the pilot can choose between three intensities: low, medium and high. But it now seemed that for an extended period, the ARCAL’s low intensity would not be serviceable. The controller told me to issue a NOTAM stating that nobody could use the ARCAL for an indefinite period.

I did not agree with that request. An ARCAL system that was left available would facilitate a pilot’s life by allowing him to choose between the remaining intensities during the approach, or on takeoff. The pilots of the Quebec Government HS125 in charge of medical evacuations during night time would certainly appreciate.

I told the controller that I did not know of any approved procedures relating to an ARCAL type K system failure and that I did not see why I would consider totally unserviceable a system in which only one intensity out of three was posing a problem.

He replied that those were the written procedures that could be found in the control tower and that I had to call his manager if I wanted to see them. How was it possible that official procedures pertinent to a system installed on many airports across Canada, with or without a control tower, could only be found in selected control towers? This was unthinkable.

Through my manager, I asked to receive a copy of those procedures. But it now seemed that those procedures were not in the Val-d’Or control tower but in the Montreal regional office. I tried to get them from that office, but nobody could find anything on the subject.

It was now obvious that those procedures never existed. The funny thing is that all the stakeholders were defending, one level at a time, the existence of those fictive procedures, for all kinds of reasons.

During those years, there was a program called “Incentive Award”, encouraging an employee to present new ideas that would improve the efficiency of the public service. If a proposition was accepted by the highest management levels, a certificate accompanied with a small amount of money would be sent to the employee by the Deputy Minister at Transport Canada. Realizing I would not obtain satisfaction from the regional management, I used the “Incentive Award” program to present my proposition.

One year later, I received a call from somebody who told me he was working at the national level, in Ottawa. He implied that my suggestion would not be accepted.

I told him that I paid, like other Canadians, to get the ARCAL system installed and that, as long as one intensity would remain serviceable, the ARCAL would have to be available to pilots. I made sure he understood that I could not care if he felt comfortable with the idea or not. He was advised that if he maintained his view on the subject, he would have to justify his action to the Canadian public and to the Minister of Transport, who, at the time, was Benoît Bouchard.

Two months later, I received a check and a letter from the Deputy Minister of Transport Canada thanking me for my suggestion that was improving the efficiency of public service. Fourteen months were needed to make the transition from fictive to official procedures that now apply to all Canadian airports equipped with this type of remote control of runway lights.

For more real life stories on the Rouyn-Noranda flight service station and flight service specialists, click here:

Real life stories as a FSS in Rouyn-Noranda

Real life stories as pilot and FSS: learning how to fly

The flight from St-Jean-sur-Richelieu, Québec, to Edmonton, Alberta in 1981

Post author By Stanley
Post date 28 October 2014

(Precedent story: unexpected thunderstorm cells)

After a proficiency check, I soon find myself flying a Cessna 170B (tail wheel) on a flight across Canada, from St -Jean-sur- Richelieu, Quebec, to Edmonton, Alberta. I am accompanied by the aircraft’s owner who has not yet completed his private pilot course. The 1952 Cessna flies well, but has absolutely no instruments for air navigation, not even a VOR nor ADF. And the era of the portable GPS is not yet upon us.

Fourteen 1:500,000 VFR charts, covering the planned flight, are folded, glued and numbered. I trace the expected flight path on each chart, with 10 miles landmarks. This will facilitate the monitoring of our progress, considering the absence of navigation equipment. The preparation now completed, the take off is done on a beautiful summer day of 1981.

1:500,000 VFR charts used for a flight toward Edmonton, Canada, in 1981

We do stopovers at Gatineau, North Bay, Sudbury and then fly along Lake Superior to Wawa.

Small break in Sudbury on a VFR flight to Edmonton in 1981

We fly around Lake Superior to our next stopovers, Thunder Bay and Fort Frances. Over large forested areas, with no major landmarks, the gyroscopic precession must be corrected frequently so as not to stray too far from the intended track. Sometimes when it facilitates navigation, we either follow a railway or main roads. There are some instances where the westerly winds are so strong that our ground speed is slower than a car on a highway.

From Fort Frances to Kenora in 1981, with a Cessna C170B

Our flight path follows a line that keeps us away from areas of high air traffic. I choose to fly north of Winnipeg terminal control area, thus avoiding frequent radio exchanges with air traffic control in a language I do not master. The underperforming radio would not be of any help at any rate. This option eventually means that we must fly over Lake Winnipeg, in its southern portion. We have enough altitude to be able to glide to the other side in case of an engine failure. Nonetheless, we realize that we are gradually loosing several thousand feet due to the cold air mass above the lake. This with maximum power applied. The unexpected descent eventually ends, but it is now impossible to have an engine failure without ditching in the lake…

The crossing of Lake Winnipeg with a Cessna C170B in 1981

Near Lundar, Manitoba, the aircraft’s old gauges indicate a significant loss of fuel. It is surprising since we refueled an hour ago. We must land the plane on the nearest runway, but the strong crosswinds exceed the capabilities of the aircraft. Nonetheless, an attempt is made with the result that only the left wheel accepts the contact with the runway. As soon as the right wheel also touches the ground, the aircraft becomes airborne again. A nearby field is selected to make a precautionary landing so that the fuel status can be verified. We fly at low altitude over the electrical wires and the cows in the adjacent field, and touch smoothly at a ground speed not exceeding 15 knots. A farmer witnesses the landing and arrives in his red pick-up to offer some help. The tanks are almost full, so the plane only needs few liters of gasoline. Once this is done, we take off westward. It appears that the old fuel gauges of this 1952 Cessna are now totally unreliable…

Landing in a field with a Cessna C170B in Lundar, Manitoba in 1981.

We leave Manitoba through Dauphin and enter Saskatchewan. If we were to experience an engine failure above such uniform fields, the risk of serious problems at landing would be virtually nonexistent.

Near Yorkton, Saskatchewan, in flight with a Cessna C170B in 1981

The weather is slowly deteriorating. We choose to land in Watson, Saskatchewan, on the nearest runway.

The runway surface consists of muddy earth and grass, and it’s delimited by small red wooden panels. As we touch the ground, the tires splash mud everywhere, including under the wings.

The Watson runway, Saskatchewan, in 1981

The King George motel in Watson, Saskatchewan in 1981

Finally, the weather improves and a takeoff is made toward North Battleford, the last stop before Edmonton. The sloping terrain forces us to fly lower and lower near Edmonton, under an overcast stratocumulus, limiting our ability to see a long time in advance the correct airport from the three available (international, civil , military ). Luckily, everything goes well in choosing the right airport and approach, but we cannot say the same with radio communications. The sound quality coming from the old speaker is awful and the English spoken by the air traffic controller too fast for us. The combination of these two factors causes the controller to repeat more than once his instructions until he finally decides to slow down and we can officially say: « Roger! »

After spending few days in Edmonton it is now time for the return flight to St-Jean. This proves to be much easier and faster because the westerly winds push the aircraft. Our ground speed is sometimes double what we had managed to get on our trip to Edmonton. The journey took us twenty-five hours to go and eighteen hours to come back.

Cessna C170B in flight over Canada, summer 1981.

Climbing to 9,500 feet on the return leg to St-Jean-sur-Richelieu, in 1981.

VFR "on top" with a Cessna C170B in 1981 over Canada — VFR “on top” with a Cessna C170B in 1981 over Canada

Over North Bay, Ontario, the weather is ideal. But we will have to land in Ottawa while waiting for thunderstorms to move away from Montreal and St-Jean-sur-Richelieu. After a total of forty- three-hours of flying time, the old Cessna 170B is landing back to St- Jean -sur- Richelieu.

(Next story: the flight instructor license)

Real life stories as pilot and FSS: learning how to fly

Unexpected thunderstorm cells.

Post author By Stanley
Post date 21 October 2014

(Precedent story: the commercial pilot license / a tire bursts on landing)

On a hot summer day of 1981, I was asked to fly a Cessna 150 to the Montreal Pierre-Elliott-Trudeau international airport to pick-up one of our flight instructors and bring him back to St-Jean-sur-Richelieu. The winds were blowing from the northwest, so runway 28 was being used. While I was in final for that runway, the air traffic controller realized that he did not have enough separation between my plane and a heavy one that was also in long final. He told me “Increase your speed, there is a Boeing 727 behind you”.

It is very easy to increase the speed of an airplane while maintaining an altitude. You just push the throttle and the speed increases. However, when the aircraft is above the threshold of the runway, it needs its specific speed to touch the ground otherwise it continues to fly until the appropriate speed for landing is reached. It seemed to me that the Cessna floated for an eternity before finally touching the runway. But it eventually worked out well and I exited the runway before an overshoot was required for the Boeing.

So I parked the aircraft near Transport Canada’s offices and waited for the instructor for about thirty minutes. Clouds were rapidly covering the sky in this late afternoon, with all the humidity and an already high temperature. When the instructor finally showed up and we proceeded with the taxiing procedure, the air traffic controller told us: “You must accept radar vectors for your departing route because of the weather.” What weather? A cold front was at work, but nothing serious was visible from our position. So close to the airport terminal, all we could see were towering cumulus, nothing else. We accepted his offer in order to be allowed to leave the airport.

The take-off was made from runway 28. I made a left turn toward St-Jean. We soon understood why radar vectors had to be followed. A storm had developed between Montreal and St-Jean. We observed what looked like five cylinders created by heavy rain. Lightning was also occasionally visible. We had to fly between the cylinders to avoid the most problematic areas. We tightened our seat belts just as the first bumps were being felt, making our altitude vary considerably. Knowing what I know today about flying in bad weather, I would not attempt another flight like this one, especially without an onboard weather radar.

The flight ended nicely with a smooth landing in St- Jean, outside of the problematic weather area. A few weeks later, I was asked if I would accept to be captain for a long flight across Canada. This unexpected offer represented a great opportunity, especially since it would allow me to log more than forty additional flying hours.

(Next story: a visual flight (VFR) from St-Jean-sur-Richelieu, Quebec, to Emonton, Alberta)

For other real life stories as a pilot, click on the following link: Real life stories as a pilot

Real life stories as pilot and FSS: learning how to fly

Accidental Night Flying…Without Night Rating

Post author By Stanley
Post date 22 September 2014

(Precedent story: The Private pilot license)

Note: For this real story, since I did not have a camera with me in the aircraft in the 1980 flight, I reproduced the flight on a simulator using a Piper Cherokee (which is the closest I could find that looks like the Grumman Cheetah).

Shortly after obtaining my private pilot license, in 1980, I was asked to pick up a plane parked in Earlton, Ontario, three hundred nautical miles northwest of St-Jean-sur-Richelieu, and bring it back to St-Jean. To get to Earlton, I was in the company of an experienced pilot and we left together on a single-engine Grumman Cheetah. For the return flight, each pilot would fly his own plane, following one another. My companion would lead in his aircraft because he had all the necessary navigational charts to get us back to St-Jean.

Along the way we had to deal with a cold front which delayed our arrival to St-Jean. Before the journey started, I was assured that we would arrive before darkness. It now seemed a bit tight.

A nice evening light over the parc de la Vérendrye.

My companion had accelerated the pace. Two facts became obvious: first, the sunset was beautiful. Second, I did not have my night flying rating. This sunset meant that there was about thirty minutes left before total darkness.

I called him on the radio to enquire if he still believed that we would reach St-Jean on time. He answered that we were at the limit.
I then enquire about the possible existence of a button that would illuminate the instruments at night. The button was found and soon the instruments took on a pinkish color. Then came the questions about the essential tools for a night flight. He named the few.

Réserve du parc de La Vérendrye at night time.

With minutes passing by very quickly it now seemed impossible to arrive before the official night time as we had not yet crossed the Montreal Pierre-Elliott-Trudeau control zone.

Approaching Montreal, I tried to communicate with my companion but there was no more reply. The only navigational fix available for this improvised night flight was the small red rotating beacon on the tail of his aircraft. Strangely, its intensity was gradually weakening. My companion was getting away, his plane being a faster one.

Montréal from above, in a single engine aircraft. — Montréal in sight. It is the first time that I see Montréal from high above during the night. I did not expect I would do so while flying a plane without holding a night rating.

I increased the power and adjusted the mixture to gain a few knots, while focusing on the little red dot that could direct me to St- Jean-sur-Richelieu. I was not too happy with my performance. I should have insisted from the beginning, to have a copy of all the documents. But this flight seemed so simple. Lesson learned.

We flew through the Montreal international airport control zone. In the night, the strobe lights of big airliners were visible on the approaches to landings or during take-offs. Abusing the engine a little bit, I gradually decreased the distance from my companion’s aircraft. Unable to hear anything due to the lack of documents that would provide the local frequencies being used, I simply followed the aircraft ahead of me.

Suddenly, the distant red beacon started going down in the night. I supposed we were getting close to St-Jean-sur-Richelieu. My companion was certainly communicating with the airport control tower to announce his intentions. This was a frequency I knew by heart. I ran the risk of calling him on the tower frequency to ask for tips to land at night. The answer was short and uncertain, because he knew that radio communications were recorded. The only advice he could find was: “I do not know what information to give you, take your time.” The air traffic controller heard this and offered me the presence of emergency vehicles, an offer I politely declined.

A Lake Buccaneer seaplane pilot flying in the area heard the communication and told the controller: “Advise him to turn his landing light on!” I replied that it was not functional. It had been observed during the pre-flight checks at St-Jean-sur-Richelieu, but it was not supposed to be a problem since we were flying during daytime only.

The first step towards a landing is to know the relative position of the plane from the airport and its three runways. When you have never flown at night, the view is different and requires an adjustment. Once the runway in use was identified (runway 11), the next step was to imagine that the flight instructor who trained me was sitting next to me. He would require good positions in the circuit, exact altitude according to each leg of the circuit pattern, appropriate speed and flap degrees, and finally an approach with a suitable angle.

At the time, all I knew about night flying boiled down to one eminently practical aspect: there was a wooded area at the beginning of runway 11 and I did not want to descend too much and hit the top of those trees, invisible in the night. However, being too high above the runway threshold would mean that the wheels would touch too far away past the threshold and the remaining runway length would be insufficient to stop the aircraft the ideal way, that is to say in one piece.

During the final leg of the approach, although my attention was fully dedicated to the procedures, I could feel that the rhythm of my heart had accelerated. On short final, everything happened quickly. The plane flew above the wooded area, the runway approached rapidly and the two wheels of the main gear touched the runway gently. The brakes were applied immediately and everything was over.

The main issue was now solved. I requested guidance from the air traffic controller to taxi down to the flying club. He jumped on the opportunity to ask me, a smile in his voice: “Are you going to take your night flying rating now?“!

(Next story: Night landing on an ice rink).

For other real life stories as a pilot, click on the following link: Real life stories as a pilot