Radio star

The International Civil Aviation Organization (ICAO) has designated English as the international language of aviation. In countries where English is neither a native or national language, those working in the industry—such as air traffic controllers and commercial pilots—must learn it as a second or even third language and pass an ICAO exam to prove their skills. So, pilots and controllers on frequency will usually speak slowly, enunciate carefully, and deliver their radio transmissions in succinct, precise ICAO-standard language.

Not so in the United States, apparently. On one of my first flights in this country, coming in to land at a towered field, I announced my approach into the airspace and heard something like this back: ninersevenninermikeyankeelemmeknowwhenyouseethepowerplantrunwaythirtyfiveleftwindisseventotwelvefromthreefortytwoaircraftaheadandjustwatch...

I turned to my instructor and asked, “What?”

“Don’t look at me, I don’t know what he said,” he responded.

Radio communications are hard, especially when you’re concentrating on flying and getting your bearings in a new place. In that context, speed-talkers can be anxiety-inducing at best and a hazard at worst. Also, here in the land of the free and home of the brave, native-speaker colloquialisms and non-essential verbiage often slip into the standard phraseology for which the aviation frequencies should be reserved.

Clear communication on frequency with standard phraseology—a globally recognized set of words and expressions—is not just a nice-to-have, it’s a crucial and defining element of aviation safety. Air traffic controllers and pilots speak to each other hundreds of thousands of times every day, on sometimes scratchy radios, in complex airspace, and under often-challenging conditions.

The phraseology was initially developed to prevent chaos on the airwaves and eliminate ambiguity in operations. In high-stress and high-workload situations, pilots and controllers must understand each other quickly and exactly. The shared vocabulary is intended to make things easier for all parties involved.

Misunderstandings can lead to tragic consequences. The case most often cited is the collision between two fully loaded Boeing 747 aircraft on the Spanish island of Tenerife in 1977, which killed almost 600 people. The cause of that accident was determined to be a major communication breakdown. It led to intensified efforts to standardize phraseology and improve English language proficiency among flight crews and controllers.

When standard words or phrases are used, others listening in to the frequency can quickly develop a better mental picture of their position relative to other aircraft and thereby enhance their own situational awareness and safety.

Superfluous jargon can also be a distraction that elicits anything from bewilderment to downright ire.

I often hear something like, “November-One-Two-Three-Alpha-Bravo is with you.” Try this sometime with a CFI on board and see how easy it is to drive a normally rational, level-headed individual to insanity. And expect a snarky response like: “And also with you, my child. Amen.”

How about the times a new aircraft is coming in to a nontowered field and calls out: “Any traffic in the area, please advise?” Can you just pay attention? It’s amazing what you will learn if you stop and listen after switching to a new frequency to see what else is going on in that slice of airspace you’ve just chosen to enter.

Listen to what’s happening around you, stick to standard phrases that are globally understood, and ditch the pilot slang. It pays to be courteous—the occasional “thanks” or “good day” never hurt anyone—but please avoid refrains like, “tallyho, old chap,” or the newly ubiquitous “got you on the fishfinder.”

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