Safety Comes First
About this column
This column is provided to address items of concern regarding safety aspects of model aviation activities. Content of the column, however, is the opinion of the author and does not necessarily represent the official position of the Academy of Model Aeromatics.
Dear M.A.:
Incident
I went flying today, sort of like any other time I've gone flying in my 20-year RC career. But this day started with an eye-opening experience that bears retelling to possibly prevent others from having the same experience.
I fly at Whittier Narrows Park in South El Monte, California. The local RC club, San Gabriel Valley R/C Flyers, oversees the operation at this public field, and I think they do an excellent job. Over the years, they have tried to improve the frequency-control situation by erecting various types of impound areas and pit arrangements that facilitate the general-public type of mix that flies there. All in all, the latest version is professional and somewhat self-explanatory, even if you don't care to read the procedures that are clearly posted in the area for all to see. But I'm here to tell you that without some discipline and common courtesy, none of these well-intended facilities will work.
I arrived and set up in the pit area. I saw that a frequency pin for my channel was in the "active" position on the board in the frequency impound area. I placed my radio pin (clearly marked with required frequency flags, etc.) directly under the pin board on the shelf designed as a transmitter impound and continued to assemble my aircraft.
I was fueled and preflighted, and the flier on my channel still hadn't returned to the pits. So I wandered down the line to look at some of the airplanes (there were plenty of them). I then struck up a conversation with some other fliers who were observing the activity. This waiting went on for nearly 25 minutes, and I still hadn't seen the flier who was on my channel return to the pits.
I asked the gents I was talking with if they knew who was on my frequency, but they didn't know, so I got up and walked across the field to the flight line to survey the frequencies. Only one radio of the four or five there had a frequency flag on it; nobody was flying my channel.
Now I started to wonder if anybody else was really on my channel. Comments were made to double-check back in the pit area. I walked back to the far end and started asking the various groups about the frequency. I got everything from dumb looks to vigorous head-shaking. Once at the other end, I went back down the line again, asking in case someone didn't hear or misunderstood. Still no response was given and the pin was still on the board.
I returned to the bench with the gents and sat for another five to eight minutes, all the time beginning to feel sure that someone had left his pin on the board when he left for the day. Total time at this point was about 40 minutes.
Finally I stood up and told the fellows I was going to see who really was on my channel. I waited until all the aircraft visible were reasonably high and flipped on my transmitter (antenna fully extended). Nothing fell or went wildly out of control. The gentlemen on the bench nodded in agreement that it appeared nobody was affected by my radio transmission. I then returned to my airplane after having removed the pin from the board and tried a range check on my radio.
Another flier was starting to taxi out nearby and it appeared his radio was "swamping" mine. I extended my antenna to stop the jitter in my airplane and heard a loud thump and someone call, "What happened?" from across the field.
The burning realization that I had shot someone down stung me. Almost as fast, the flier's wife leaped up off the bench, yelling to her husband. An observer quickly pointed me out as the culprit, and the hiss of disapproval was heard from the immediate crowd.
The disbelieving pilot was stunned that such a thing would occur. I myself was stunned, because I was sure nobody was on the field with my frequency. I quickly offered to pay for all damages and profusely offered my apologies, which were gratefully accepted with no animosities growing out of the situation, and perhaps a new friendship.
After exchanging phone numbers, I finally got to fly. As I did, I reviewed what had happened and am quite sure that the pilot who was shot down had set himself up for the disaster, and here is why.
He had arrived at the field and had the frequency to himself. He put up his pin and went flying. Then he, in turn, began teaching a beginner to fly his own aircraft. It was somewhere at this point I arrived. Evidently as I sat and chatted, he was involved in training the beginner, and when I went on to the field to inquire about frequencies, either they were walking back to the pit area while I asked others, or when I asked them, their airplane was not on my channel and didn't clue me in to the instructor's frequency, if, indeed, he was even listening to me.
In any case, the instructor had finished the flying lesson and had returned to the pits with his own aircraft, which was on my channel. He managed to miss my extensive search for the owner of the frequency pin. I shot him down and destroyed his airplane.
Analysis — Causes and lessons
So what's the cause of the problem? Three things:
- Courtesy
- Doubt
- Discipline
The basic thing that would have prevented this accident would have been for the shot-down flier to remove his pin from the board when he wasn't flying. That would have negated the need to go on a wild goose chase to determine the frequency of the 25 or so airplanes on the field at that time. A basic courtesy that wasn't extended, even in the most innocent situation, led to doubt on the part of the entire group present, not just me.
I worked my way through the various levels of doubt, doing what was logical in the situation to eliminate uncertainty. In the end, I gambled, but it was only when I felt I had minimized the risk.
There is some discipline involved in flying aircraft big or small. Procedures weren't followed (as outlined by flying-field rules), courtesies were not extended (lack of frequency flags, not removing frequency pin, apathetic attitudes), and doubt was created.
Who lost?
- Me — I'm paying for a new aileron and to soothe ruffled feathers.
- The shot-down pilot — he lost all his time and labor that went into the construction of his airplane.
- Everyone at the field — these situations tend to aggravate the sensibilities of the hard-core group of pilots who dominate all flying fields.
I'm sure that, for a while, I will be known as the one who pulled the boner and shot down another "good ol' boy." My only hope is the pilot who lost his aircraft understands the innocence of his actions and doesn't hold me forever in low esteem for the result of those actions.
Clint Brooks Long Beach, California
Transcribed from original scans by AI. Minor OCR errors may remain.
