These frequencies usually are quiet. It is possible to cross the Atlantic or the Pacific without hearing a word on either channel. Once in a while, though, pilots yield to the boredom of routine operations and broadcast a joke “in the blind” or start a short conversation about the latest airline or industry rumor.
An intriguing abuse of the air-to-air frequency used to occur during the 1990s with some regularity between Hawaii and California. A particular pilot seemed to enjoy breaking radio silence by playing an eerie rendition of The High and the Mighty on a nose flute. It was as if the ghost of Dan Roman (played by John Wayne in the movie) were paying homage to fellow aviators passing in the night. Older pilots often responded with an appropriately nostalgic comment, but most of the younger pilots did not recognize the haunting melody. Attempts to identify the mystery pilot were fruitless although he was rumored to have flown for TWA.
The emergency frequency usually is quieter, but once in a while a voice of desperation attracts attention. I recall when the pilot of a Cessna 414A was en route from Santa Maria in the Azores to Newfoundland. He let those within VHF range know that he was low on fuel and concerned that he might not make landfall. Using high frequency communications, we relayed his predicament to Gander Radio, which alerted Canadian search and rescue facilities. After landing in Boston, we learned that the pilot had ditched about 100 miles from land and was plucked from the icy water with little survival time to spare.
Lightplane pilots often do not monitor the emergency frequency—known as “maintaining guard”—even though they usually have a spare receiver. Perhaps this is because they believe anyone calling for help over the contiguous United States will always be within earshot of someone who can help. This is typically true. An aircraft is usually within range of an FAA or military facility. But this does not necessarily mean that those within range are listening.
A few years ago, I conducted an experiment—with permission of the FAA—by making short transmissions on 121.5 over various locations. Most of the time, no one ever replied (including when I made such a transmission directly over Los Angeles). Controllers explained that FAA facilities are supposed to monitor guard but often do not. Others have the volume turned so low that a call for help might go unheard. This is why pilots are encouraged to monitor 121.5 whenever a spare receiver is available.
At one time, lengthier emergency transmissions (such as those broadcast by older-generation ELTs) were detected by search and rescue satellites. These SARSATs computed the location of an emergency signal and issued an alert to search and rescue facilities. This is one reason why extraneous voice communications on 121.5 had to be avoided. Today, SARSAT receives only 406 MHz as broadcast by the newer generation ELTs. Testing these ELTs usually is done in a shielded room to prevent SARSAT from “hearing” the test and interpreting the broadcast as a plea for assistance.
In the 2001 motion picture comedy Super Troopers, and the 2018 sequel, Super Troopers 2, highway patrolmen play games and pranks to break up the monotony of patrolling rural areas. This includes broadcasting “meow” over the radio at various times. Such “meowing” has spread to being broadcasted over various aviation frequencies. This pranking apparently is the behavior of pilots unaware of the rigorous punishment that can be levied against them by the Federal Communications Commission for misuse of aviation frequencies.
One of my pastimes on long cross-country flights in lightplanes is to eavesdrop on various ground frequencies. This can be both educational and entertaining. For example, I sometimes tune in the ATIS of en route airports even though I have no intention of landing there. It’s a handy way to pick up the current altimeter setting and possibly changing weather conditions. This can be important even when the sky is clear. Having a general knowledge of surface wind, for example, can be helpful in case of a forced landing.
An ATIS broadcast also can be amusing. One Christmas, the recorded voice at McClellan-Palomar Airport near San Diego told pilots to advise they had “Information Yuletide.” I was flying Cessna N210JB and could not resist calling in as “Cessna Two-One-Zero Jingle Bells.” I heard that all subsequent changes in the ATIS identifier that day used words only associated with Christmas.