By Robert N. Rossier, EAA 472091
This piece originally ran in Robert’s Stick and Rudder column in the January 2025 issue of EAA Sport Aviation magazine.
It was a blue sky morning at Westerly State Airport (KWST) in Rhode Island, a nontowered airport with two intersecting runways, 07/25 and 14/32. A charter pilot loaded his passengers into the Islander sitting on the north ramp and was preparing for flight.
The charter pilot briefed his passengers, started the engines, listened to the automated surface observing system, and taxied out to Runway 07 to perform his run-up and depart. Winds at the time were light and variable, and the designated no-wind runway was Runway 07. On the way, he heard a helicopter report 3 miles north, planning a landing on Runway 14 — the cross runway. “I better keep an eye on that,” thought the pilot.
Pulling into the run-up pad, the charter pilot set his route of flight in the GPS. He was about to start his run-up when a radio call came in from his company dispatcher. It seems there was an issue concerning one of his passengers, and the dispatcher was looking for some information. The pilot switched to the company frequency and spent several seconds answering the question. Then he switched back to the common traffic advisory frequency and went about his run-up.
Unknown to the pilot, and as he was communicating on the company frequency, a Cessna 172 had started taxiing from the south side of the field to Runway 25, on which it planned to depart. Since the charter pilot had been on his company frequency, he never heard the 172 pilot’s radio call. Runway 07/25 has a slight rise in the middle, so a pilot at one end would not be able to see an aircraft some 4,000 feet away at the other end of the runway.
The charter pilot ran up the engines to 2100 rpm, performed a mag check, turned on the boost pumps, checked the position of the fuel selectors, and verified the rudder trim position. He then pushed down the carb heat controls and noted the rise in carb temperatures as he held the controls in place. He verified the external power switch as off, turned on the landing lights, and then checked the engine instruments — fuel pressure, oil pressure, oil temperature, and cylinder head temperature. He double-checked the vacuum pressure and then moved the carb heat controls back to the off position, verifying the decrease in carb temperatures.
One at a time, he cycled the prop controls and then reduced power to 1500 rpm. He performed feather checks on both engines and then reduced power to idle. Finally, he cycled the flap switch to set takeoff flaps, verified the position on the flap indicator, and turned his head to verify the flaps were actually in the takeoff position.
All this took perhaps 20 seconds, during which time the Cessna pilot presumably performed his run-up and prepared for takeoff on Runway 25.
The charter pilot, now having completed his pretakeoff checklist, was ready for departure on Runway 07, but he wanted to make certain that helicopter was out of the way and no longer a potential conflict. He clicked the push-to-talk (PTT) button and asked, “Helicopter at Westerly, you clear of 14?”
As he released the PTT button, he caught part of one transmission, and then heard someone report the helicopter was clear. He clicked his PTT again, “Westerly traffic, Islander taking position on Runway 7 for departure.”
It might have been that the charter pilot and the Cessna 172 pilot transmitted at the same time, stepping on one another’s transmission. But the net result would be two aircraft about to depart on opposite runways. The implications to safety — or lack thereof — were as clear as the morning sky.
The Nature of Distractions
Distractions come in a variety of forms, and instructors generally do a good job of coming up with subtle yet effective ways to teach their students to cope with them. Asking the student to pick up a dropped pencil or asking a random question at the most inopportune time rank among the more common ones. But nothing beats the distractions that come up in real life.
Some distractions are pretty obvious. One day, shortly after takeoff, a yellow jacket started buzzing around the cockpit right in front of me. It took a lot of restraint to ignore the bee and focus on flying the airplane and paying attention to what was happening outside. I’m not allergic to bee stings, but such a scenario would be even more distracting if the pilot was.
Once, while checking out a pilot new to the flight school’s Piper Comanche 250 at Rocky Mountain Metropolitan in Colorado (KBJC, formerly Jeffco airport), another airplane was sequenced into the pattern for the parallel runway directly opposite us. My focus had been on making certain my student remembered to lower the landing gear since he was relatively new to retractable-gear airplanes. When the other airplane was suddenly opposite direction on base and closing in fast, my focus shifted. No longer as concerned about the landing gear, I was making certain we avoided a potential midair collision if the other pilot failed to line up on the correct runway. Apparently, my student was distracted as well, until the controller mentioned on final, “Comanche, gear check!” Oops!
We’ve probably all experienced the situation when another aircraft approaching a nontowered airport gives a false position report, such as 3 miles east instead of his actual 3 miles west. There we are, scrambling to find the illusive airplane, searching every corner of the sky around us, when the aircraft is actually 6 miles from our position. Distracted in our search, it’s easy to miss another aircraft that actually is a potential collision threat.
Another favorite is the warning light, warning horn, or gear position light that isn’t working properly. Who could ever forget the story of Eastern Air Lines Flight 401 that crashed in the Florida Everglades while the three-person flight crew tried to sort out an inoperative gear light. They all got sucked into the distraction. Meanwhile, the autopilot had clicked off. Fatal mistake.
In the case of the charter pilot departing on Runway 07, the distraction had been short and subtle. The pilot had perhaps made one simple mistake. While he should have been focusing on situational awareness just before takeoff, he let himself be distracted with the call from the company dispatcher. Perhaps he should have responded with a simple, “Stand by ….” But he hadn’t even started his run-up yet and may have been concerned that he would need to return to the terminal to resolve a problem.
Epilogue
The charter pilot hesitated for just a split second before taxiing into position on 07 and pushing the throttles forward. Something was nagging him. Another communication had been cut off, and he wondered what that might have been. Before he could click his mic again to ask, the Cessna pilot called, “Cessna holding short of 25 for the departing Islander.”
Robert N. Rossier, EAA 472091, has been flying for more than 40 years and has worked as a flight instructor, commercial pilot, chief pilot, and FAA flight check airman.