The Cape Air Experience, Volume 2
Flying throughout Cape Air’s New England route structure was always fun, occasionally challenging and every once in awhile, downright weird. I usually bid the Martha’s Vineyard to Boston and Nantucket to Boston round trips because they had just the right mix of laid back, “margaritaville” ambiance of the Islands, with the full throttle adrenalin rush of Logan. I remember one week in August that was unseasonably hot and humid, and with no environmental systems at all in our Cessna 402s, some of the passengers were really cranky. All the pilots were tired and sweaty and the controllers seemed especially harried and distracted. Logan airport is a rat’s nest even on the best of days. It was built on a reclaimed salt marsh at a time when the biggest airliner was the DC-3. With every single runway and taxiway crossing each other, they typically have a ground controller and two tower controllers to handle all the simultaneous arrivals and departures on 2 to 3 active runways all operating at the same time.
With all this need for co-ordination, you’d think that these people would be talking to each other. It can get really hairy sometimes, so dig out your airport diagram of the Boston Logan airport and check out this interesting afternoon’s arrival. On this particular day, they’re using 27 and 22-Left for arrivals and 22-Right for departures. 33-left is available for departures if you’re really heavy, but the wind’s not in your favor.
I’m on final with my trusty Cessna 402 on this hot afternoon with all nine seats filled and a “lap-child” on Mom’s lap in row 4 just screaming all the way from the Vineyard. On the 1 mile final for runway 27, it’s obvious that a Continental Express B-737 that is back-taxiing down runway 33-left will cross my runway and be a conflict if someone doesn’t say something. Finally, the tower guy on 128.8 tells Continental to expedite crossing 27, ‘cause a Cape Air is on a 1 mile final. No answer. Then, “CAIR 148” (me), “S-turns approved, 737 crossing your runway…” So I start the s-turns on a 1 mile final, 400 feet over the bay, and not too far above the height of the mast of the nearest sailboat. Fear and loathing in the 402! Passengers don’t like strange maneuvers close to (finally) landing, and ending their 35 minute ordeal with the heat and screaming kid…
I roll out of a couple of “esses” on final pretty much over the approach lights that are on pylons out in the water and Continental is still putt-putting across my runway. Nothing from the tower…Rob speaks, “Tower, what are we doing here?” “Oh, Um, sorry CAIR 148, aircraft on the runway, go around!” (HMMMM, where have you been this last minute????) So I power up, clean up and begin flying, with my beleaguered Cessna clawing for altitude, which only serves to give the moron in the “seven three” a courtesy buzz job. However, anyone familiar with Boston, knows that directly ahead of your departure path on 27 is the fine city of Bean-Town, with the “PRU” and all the other tall buildings, so a turn in some direction is a real good thing to do.
While I struggle for altitude and stare at the buildings filling my windshield, our sleepy controller says to turn right, join the right downwind for 22-Right and contact the other tower guy on 119.1. I do all that and am told to keep it tight, and that I’m cleared to land 22-Right. Tight’s fine with me, because a normal pattern would just make the proximity to the buildings much too uncomfortable. I roll around on final and am IN THE FLARE, for God’s sake, and the tower screams, “CAIR 148, Go around, go around!” I drag the poor 402 back into the air again, start cleaning it up and try to process that the idiot wants me to somehow climb away from the runway that was only 20 feet below me. Now he’s screaming, “turn left IMMEDIATELY!!!” So I try a cautious climbing left turn at about 100 feet, and manage to get turned away from, you guessed it, the same darn B-737 that his other tower buddy had just cleared for takeoff on 33-Left!!! In his mind, if I had landed, the crunch of metal at the intersection of 22-Right and 33-Left would have been very spectacular. However, just as he got the go- around order out of his mouth, our friend in the B-737 lifted off way before the intersection, so my normal straight ahead go-around would have made the crunch of metal just as spectacular, but more so because it would have been at 200 ft. ABOVE the intersection.
“AHHHH, CAIR 148, join the left downwind for runway 22-Right, and we’re sorry for the confusion…” Confusion?, don’t you tower guys talk to each other? At this point, all I could manage on the radio by way of an answer was, “Let’s get it right this time, because there will be no further go-arounds for CAIR 148!”
Rob Belisario