In the practice area one day with a student, it finally occurred to me that there were at least ten pilots using the frequency I was monitoring. Now, this is what happens. Since there are only so many frequencies to go around, we have to double up. Stuck with that inconvenience, it would behoove us to remember that timeless courtesy we should have learned from the beginning of our training: listen, then wait until the airwaves are clear before transmitting.

Stepping on another pilot’s communication not only is discourteous, but annoying, even infuriating, especially for air traffic controllers, a group of humans easily frustrated, who often do not require too sound a reason, it seems, to bark at someone. Also, stepping on communication can be dangerous, and it slows down the ATC process. There is not as much information as a given pilot might presume that is important enough to eclipse whatever everyone else swears also is important.

“Wait until the airwaves are clear before keying the mic,” my instructor drilled into me those many years ago, “Otherwise no one can hear anything. What good does it do to dutifully report when no one is able to hear it?”

That day in the practice area, every pilot on that frequency seemed to feel his communication of such importance that he personally claimed the right to key his own mic at will.

There was one young pilot who sounded like a student in the pattern at some distant Virginia airport who apparently had been taught to report his downwind, base, and final legs, as well as announcing his taxi and takeoff during solo flight. This is a good habit to develop even when no other traffic is present. However, this young man seemed determined to report his various legs whether anyone could hear him or not. He dutifully reported, probably keying his mic at precise points in the pattern, usually stepping on several other pilots somewhere else, who themselves were trying desperately and just as clumsily to communicate what they felt was information critical to them.

When this was multiplied by the number of pilots on that frequency, then further compounded by those pilots clearly intent upon chatting to friends, it created communication mayhem. I heard only bits and pieces of each pilots’ communication. During the short breaks in all that chaos we could hear in the background the broken, timeless mantra of downwind, base, and final of that lonely, dutiful young student.

Now, this article is not meant to criticize that pilot. He was doing what he was taught to do to be safe. Not only that, but announcing position near an airport, as well as what are his intentions is a good habit. However, what apparently was not impressed upon this student at some distant or even recent point was the rule: “listen, then talk when the airwaves are clear.”

If he is unable to report his base leg because the comm channel is jammed by other pilots’ own communication, then so what, don’t communicate it. It’s not that important. Apparently, the rule his instructor failed to impress upon him is that he should report such position only if conditions allow.

The criticism here is leveled mainly at his instructor, as well as everyone else that day, not the least of whom were those apparently more seasoned pilots insisting upon just chattering away about things having nothing to do with aviation. Especially facing such a cluttered frequency, each pilot should have adhered to the rule: “Communicate who we are, where we are, and what we want to do.” Keep it short, simple, and sweet, imparting only what is important information. Many times, I go as far as to briefly polish before I key the mic what I plan to say so that it is concise and correct, and so it does not tie up the airwaves.

Finally, frustrated at being forced to listen to what should not have been allowed to degenerate into a problem in the first place, at a brief lull in everyone else’s grappling for those coveted seconds of fame over the airwaves, I keyed my own mic and admonished everyone with the words, “Hey guys, everyone cannot communicate at the same time. Listen before keying the mic.”

Thirty seconds later, when it was clear my suggestion had gone unheeded, I repeated it. Suddenly, I was scolded by another pilot whose voice sounded familiar. He was one of those who had been chattering incessantly. Keying his own mic, he said, irritated, “There are many airports using this frequency,”

I didn’t feel this the forum to take it to the level of a training seminar on aviation communications, so I did not respond. Still, this pilot seemed to feel his admonishment of me justified using this frequency like a telephone to chat casually with his friends. His acknowledgement that the frequency was crowded should be even more reason for him and everyone else present to communicate responsibly and carefully.

Telling me off for informing all of the users that what an objective observer was hearing amounted to irresponsibility, carelessness, certainly chaos, as well as the familiarity of this man’s voice and his incessant chatter, indicated to me that he either is ignorant of aviation communication etiquette or that he simply does not care.

Moreover, his behavior displays further his ignorance that the problem lay that day not with how many pilots were using the same frequency, but the manner in which those pilots present were using it. Abandoning FAA guidelines and the rules of common sense is counterproductive to the safe use of the aviation communication system.