Actual exchanges between pilots and control towers

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tower: "Delta 351, you have traffic at 10 o'clock, 6 miles!"

Delta 351: "Give us another hint! We have digital watches!"

 

 

 

 

 

Tower: "TWA 2341, for noise abatement turn right 45 Degrees."

TWA 2341: "Center, we are at 35,000 feet. How much noise can we make up here?"

Tower: "Sir, have you ever heard the noise a 747 makes when it hits a 727?"

 

 

 

 

 

From an unknown aircraft waiting in a very long takeoff queue: "I'm &%^$%#$ bored!"

Ground Traffic Control: "Last aircraft transmitting, identify yourself immediately!"

Unknown aircraft: "I said I was %$%#$%# bored, not &^&%$#$% stupid!"

 

 

 

 

 

O'Hare Approach Control to a 747: "United 329 heavy, your traffic is a Fokker, one o'clock, three miles, Eastbound."

United 329: "Approach, I've always wanted to say this...I've got the little Fokker in sight."

 

 

 

 

A student became lost during a solo cross-country flight. While attempting to locate the aircraft on radar, ATC asked, "What was your last known position?"

Student: "When I was number one for takeoff."

 

 

 

 

 

A DC-10 had come in a little hot and thus had an exceedingly long roll out after touching down.

San Jose Tower Noted: "American 751, make a hard right turn at the end of the runway, if you are able. If you are not able, take the Guadalupe exit off Highway 101, make a right at the lights and return to the airport."

 

 

 

 

 

A Pan Am 727 flight, waiting for start clearance in Munich , overheard the following:

 

Lufthansa (in German): "Ground, what is our start clearance time?"

Ground (in English): "If you want an answer you must speak in English."

Lufthansa (in English): "I am a German, flying a German airplane, in Germany . Why must I speak English?"

Unknown voice from another plane (in a beautiful British accent): "Because you lost the bloody war!"

 

 

 

 

 

Tower: "Eastern 702, cleared for takeoff, contact Departure on frequency 124.7"

Eastern 702: "Tower, Eastern 702 switching to Departure. By the way,after we lifted off we saw some kind of dead animal on the far end of the runway."

Tower: "Continental 635, cleared for takeoff behind Eastern 702, contact Departure on frequency 124.7. Did you copy that report from Eastern 702?"

Continental 635: "Continental 635, cleared for takeoff, roger; and yes, we copied Eastern... We've already notified our caterers."

 

 

 

 

 

One day the pilot of a Cherokee 180 was told by the tower to hold short of the active runway while a DC-8 landed. The DC-8 landed, rolled out, turned around, and taxied back past the Cherokee. Some quick-witted comedian in the DC-8 crew got on the radio and said, "What a cute little plane. Did you make it all by yourself?"

The Cherokee pilot, not about to let the insult go by, came back with a real zinger: "I made it out of DC-8 parts. Another landing like yours and I'll have enough parts for another one."

 

 

 

 

 

The German air controllers at Frankfurt Airport are renowned as a short-tempered lot. They not only expect one to know one's gate parking location, but how to get there without any assistance from them. So it was with some amusement that we (a Pan Am 747) listened to the following exchange between Frankfurt ground control and a British Airways 747, call sign Speedbird 206.

Speedbird 206: " Frankfurt , Speedbird 206! Clear of active runway."

Ground: "Speedbird 206. Taxi to gate Alpha One-Seven."

The BA 747 pulled onto the main taxiway and slowed to a stop.

 

Ground: "Speedbird, do you not know where you are going?"

Speedbird 206: "Stand by, Ground, I'm looking up our gate location now."

Ground (with quite arrogant impatience): "Speedbird 206, have you not been to Frankfurt before?"

Speedbird 206 (coolly): "Yes, twice in 1944, but it was dark -- and I didn't land."

 

 

 

 

 

While taxiing at London 's Airport, the crew of a US Air flight departing for Ft. Lauderdale made a wrong turn and came nose to nose with a United 727.

An irate female ground controller lashed out at the US Air crew, screaming: "US Air 2771, where the hell are you going? I told you to turn right onto Charlie taxiway! You turned right on Delta! Stop right there. I know it's difficult for you to tell the difference between C and D, but get it right!"

Continuing her rage to the embarrassed crew, she was now shouting hysterically: "God! Now you've screwed everything up! It'll take forever to sort this out! You stay right there and don't move till I tell you to! You can expect progressive taxi instructions in about half an hour, and I want you to go exactly where I tell you, when I tell you, and how I tell you! You got that, US Air 2771?"

 

"Yes, ma'am," the humbled crew responded.

 

Naturally, the ground control communications frequency fell terribly silent after the verbal bashing of US Air 2771. Nobody wanted to chance engaging the irate ground controller in her current state of mind. Tension in every cockpit out around Gatwick was definitely running high. Just then an unknown pilot broke the silence and keyed his microphone, asking:

 

 

 

"Wasn't I married to you once?"

*applauds*

 

Thanks for the post. Made me smile and laugh quite a bit on a gloomy day!

 

 

you really do hear some great ones out there

a good one ive heard so far was when the MN Twins were in the playoffs (2 or 3 years ago) and tower cleared me for take off like this

Tower:"Sioux 45 cleared for take off runway 35 left and the twins won 7-5"

 

I couldn't stop laughing.

 

But the best one happened last week.

For those of you who don't know in aviation we use a "phonetic alphabet" such as A is alpha b is Bravo etc. etc.

Well one day I was getting the weather before i called up for taxi clearance and the information (weather information every hour is given a letter of the alphabet identifier) E/echo

So i decided to take the initiative and have some fun

Me:" Grand forks Ground Sioux 75 on charlie ramp ready to copy and taxi IFR to fargo with information echo, echo, echo, echo, echo"

Controller: "roger Sioux 75 standard taxi to runway 35 Right cleared as filed to fargo airport climb maintain 3,000 expect 5000 one zero minutes after squak 0575, 75, 75, 75, 75"

We both started laughing and remarked that we had made each others day doing that.

 

And then another one that is just classic.

Right now i am training in Air China Pilots and their english isnt always the greatest (believe me it makes for some interesting flying when your student doesnt understand you) again with the phonetic alphabet W is whiskey. well one day a student was flying back into grand forks and this radio exchange followed.

Student: "Grand forks Approach sioux 12 inbound from the northeast"

Approach: "roger sioux 12 squak 0342 and verify you have Whiskey (refering to the current weather information)"

Student: Without missing a beat "Squak 0342 and no, no alcohol on board this aircraft."

:lol2:

Great thread. Thanks for brightening my day!

 

- Robert

 

 

Those are great :lol2:

Great post! I'll have to save those

funny stuff

And then another one that is just classic.

Right now i am training in Air China Pilots and their english isnt always the greatest (believe me it makes for some interesting flying when your student doesnt understand you) again with the phonetic alphabet W is whiskey. well one day a student was flying back into grand forks and this radio exchange followed.

Student: "Grand forks Approach sioux 12 inbound from the northeast"

Approach: "roger sioux 12 squak 0342 and verify you have Whiskey (refering to the current weather information)"

Student: Without missing a beat "Squak 0342 and no, no alcohol on board this aircraft."

 

lol

Some good ones in there

Very funny!

I love these, pretty much every profession has some. Thanks!

LOL very funny thanks a lot.

A DC-10 had come in a little hot and thus had an exceedingly long roll out after touching down.

San Jose Tower Noted: "American 751, make a hard right turn at the end of the runway, if you are able. If you are not able, take the Guadalupe exit off Highway 101, make a right at the lights and return to the airport."

Im fairly certain I was on this flight.

We fly a BeechCraft KingAir tagged as experimental for testing at work. Experimental because we have a Forward Section of a missle attached to the nose of the plane and we do some flights at a Naval Base out near Inyokern.

 

We had just finished our flight and were coming back in to Van Nuys Airport behind a Falcon 900.

 

Tower : "Alpha Juliet what is that on the front of your plane?"

 

with out any hesitation

Pilot: " We were coming in behind this really sexy triple jet and got a little excited"

 

Tower: " .............oh"

these are a great read!

I'm sure some of you have heard this great one, but it deserves a repost here:

 

In his book, "Sled Driver," SR-71/Blackbird pilot Brian Shul writes: I'll always remember a certain radio exchange that occurred one day as Walt (my back-seater) and I were screaming across Southern California 13 miles high. We were monitoring various radio transmissions from other aircraft as we entered Los Angeles airspace.

 

Though they didn't really control us, they did monitor our movement across their scope. I heard a Cessna ask for a readout of its ground speed.

 

"90 knots" Centre replied. Moments later, a Twin Beech required the same.

"120 knots" Centre answered.

 

We weren't the only ones proud of our ground speed that day...as almost instantly an F-18 smugly transmitted, "Ah, Centre, Dusty 52 requests ground speed readout."

 

There was a slight pause, then the response, "525 knots on the ground, Dusty."

 

Another silent pause. As I was thinking to myself how ripe a situation this was, I heard a familiar click of a radio transmission coming from my back-seater. It was at that precise moment I realized Walt and I had become a real crew, for we were both thinking in unison.

 

"Centre, Aspen 20, you got a ground speed readout for us?"

 

There was a longer than normal pause ... "Aspen, I show 1,742 knots."

 

No further inquiries were heard on that frequency.

 

In another famous SR-71 story, Los Angeles Centre reported receiving a request for clearance to FL 600 (60,000 ft). The incredulous controller, with some disdain in his voice, asked, "How do you plan to get up to 60,000 feet?

 

The pilot (obviously a sled driver), responded, "We don't plan to go up to it; we plan to go down to it." He was cleared....

 

 

I'm sure some of you have heard this great one, but it deserves a repost here:

 

In his book, "Sled Driver," SR-71/Blackbird pilot Brian Shul writes: I'll always remember a certain radio exchange that occurred one day as Walt (my back-seater) and I were screaming across Southern California 13 miles high. We were monitoring various radio transmissions from other aircraft as we entered Los Angeles airspace.

 

Though they didn't really control us, they did monitor our movement across their scope. I heard a Cessna ask for a readout of its ground speed.

 

"90 knots" Centre replied. Moments later, a Twin Beech required the same.

"120 knots" Centre answered.

 

We weren't the only ones proud of our ground speed that day...as almost instantly an F-18 smugly transmitted, "Ah, Centre, Dusty 52 requests ground speed readout."

 

There was a slight pause, then the response, "525 knots on the ground, Dusty."

 

Another silent pause. As I was thinking to myself how ripe a situation this was, I heard a familiar click of a radio transmission coming from my back-seater. It was at that precise moment I realized Walt and I had become a real crew, for we were both thinking in unison.

 

"Centre, Aspen 20, you got a ground speed readout for us?"

 

There was a longer than normal pause ... "Aspen, I show 1,742 knots."

 

No further inquiries were heard on that frequency.

 

In another famous SR-71 story, Los Angeles Centre reported receiving a request for clearance to FL 600 (60,000 ft). The incredulous controller, with some disdain in his voice, asked, "How do you plan to get up to 60,000 feet?

 

The pilot (obviously a sled driver), responded, "We don't plan to go up to it; we plan to go down to it." He was cleared....

 

 

 

Jeeesh..... We've become SR71power.com (Ive heard the second story..... Never heard the first one.... Funny! For those who dont quite get the joke.... Thats a ground speed of close to three times the speed of sound... And at his altitude, well past it.)

Jeeesh..... We've become SR71power.com (Ive heard the second story..... Never heard the first one.... Funny!)

The first one is a great read, that's the Cliff Notes.

 

Here you go!

 

Written by Brian Schul - former sled (SR-71 Blackbird) driver

 

There were a lot of things we couldn't do in an SR-71, but we were the

fastest guys on the block and loved reminding our fellow aviators of this

fact. People often asked us if, because of this fact, it was fun to fly the

jet. Fun would not be the first word I would use to describe flying this

plane -- intense, maybe, even cerebral. But there was one day in our Sled

experience when we would have to say that it was pure fun to be the

fastest guys out there, at least for a moment.

 

 

It occurred when Walt and I were flying our final training sortie. We

needed 100 hours in the jet to complete our training and attain Mission

Ready status. Somewhere over Colorado we had passed the century mark.

We had made the turn in Arizona and the jet was performing flawlessly. My

gauges were wired in the front seat and we were starting to feel pretty good

about ourselves, not only because we would soon be flying real missions but

because we had gained a great deal of confidence in the plane in the past

ten months. Ripping across the barren deserts 80,000 feet below us, I could

already see the coast of California from the Arizona border. I was,

finally, after many humbling months of simulators and study, ahead of the

jet.

 

 

I was beginning to feel a bit sorry for Walter in the back seat. There he

was, with no really good view of the incredible sights before us, tasked

with monitoring four different radios. This was good practice for him for

when we began flying real missions, when a priority transmission from

headquarters could be vital. It had been difficult, too, for me to

relinquish control of the radios, as during my entire flying career I had

controlled my own transmissions. But it was part of the division of duties

in this plane and I had adjusted to it. I still insisted on talking on the

radio while we were on the ground, however. Walt was so good at many

things, but he couldn't match my expertise at sounding smooth on the radios, a skill that had been honed sharply with years in fighter squadrons where the slightest radio miscue was grounds for beheading. He understood that and allowed me that luxury. Just to get a sense of what Walt had to contend with, I pulled the radio toggle switches and monitored the frequencies along with him. The predominant radio chatter was from Los Angeles Center, far below us, controlling daily traffic in their sector. While they had us on their scope (albeit briefly), we were in uncontrolled airspace and normally would not talk to them unless we needed to descend into their airspace.

 

 

We listened as the shaky voice of a lone Cessna pilot who asked Center for

a read-out of his ground speed. Center replied: November Charlie 175, I'm

showing you at ninety knots on the ground. Now the thing to understand

about Center controllers, was that whether they were talking to a rookie

pilot in a Cessna, or to Air Force One, they always spoke in the exact same,

calm, deep, professional tone that made one feel important. I referred to

it as the "Houston Center voice." I have always felt that after years of

seeing documentaries on this country's space program and listening to the

calm and distinct voice of the Houston controllers, that all other

controllers since then wanted to sound like that and that they basically

did. And it didn't matter what sector of the country we would be flying in,

it always seemed like the same guy was talking. Over the years that tone of

voice had become somewhat of a comforting sound to pilots everywhere.

Conversely, over the years, pilots always wanted to ensure that, when

transmitting, they sounded like Chuck Yeager, or at least like John Wayne.

Better to die than sound bad on the radios.

 

 

Just moments after the Cessna's inquiry, a Twin Beech piped up on

frequency, in a rather superior tone, asking for his ground speed in Beech.

I have you at one hundred and twenty-five knots of ground speed. Boy, I

thought, the Beechcraft really must think he is dazzling his Cessna

brethren.

 

 

Then out of the blue, a Navy F-18 pilot out of NAS Lemoore came up on

frequency. You knew right away it was a Navy jock because he sounded very cool on the radios.

Center, Dusty 52 ground speed check. Before Center

could reply, I'm thinking to myself, hey, Dusty 52 has a ground speed

indicator in that million-dollar cockpit, so why is he asking Center for a

read-out? Then I got it, ol' Dusty here is making sure that every bug

smasher from Mount Whitney to the Mojave knows what true speed is.

He's the fastest dude in the valley today, and he just wants everyone to know how much fun he is having in his new Hornet.

And the reply, always with that same, calm, voice, with more distinct alliteration than emotion: Dusty 52,

Center, we have you at 620 on the ground. And I thought to myself, is this

a ripe situation, or what? As my hand instinctively reached for the mic

button, I had to remind myself that Walt was in control of the radios.

Still, I thought, it must be done -- in mere seconds we'll be out of the

sector and the opportunity will be lost. That Hornet must die, and die now.

I thought about all of our Sim training and how important it was that we

developed well as a crew and knew that to jump in on the radios now would

destroy the integrity of all that we had worked toward becoming. I was

torn.

 

 

Somewhere, 13 miles above Arizona, there was a pilot screaming inside his

space helmet. Then, I heard it -- the click of the mic button from the back

seat. That was the very moment that I knew Walter and I had become a crew. Very professionally, and with no emotion, Walter spoke: Los Angeles Center, Aspen 20, can you give us a ground speed check? There was no hesitation, and the replay came as if was an everyday request.

 

 

Aspen 20, I show you at one thousand eight hundred and forty-two knots,

across the ground. I think it was the forty-two knots that I liked the

best, so accurate and proud was Center to deliver that information without

hesitation, and you just knew he was smiling. But the precise point at

which I knew that Walt and I were going to be really good friends for a long

time was when he keyed the mic once again to say, in his most

fighter-pilot-like voice: Ah, Center, much thanks, we're showing closer to

nineteen hundred on the money.

 

 

For a moment Walter was a god. And we finally heard a little crack in the

armor of the Houston Center voice, when L.A. came back with, Roger that

Aspen. Your equipment is probably more accurate than ours. You boys have a good one. It all had lasted for just moments, but in that short, memorable

sprint across the southwest, the Navy had been flamed, all mortal airplanes

on freq were forced to bow before the King of Speed, and more importantly,

Walter and I had crossed the threshold of being a crew. A fine day's work.

We never heard another transmission on that frequency all the way to the

coast. For just one day, it truly was fun being the fastest guys out there.

The SR-71 also holds the record for flying from New York to London in 1 hour 54 minutes and 56.4 seconds, set on 1 September 1974. This equates to an average velocity of about Mach 2.68, including deceleration for in-flight refueling. Peak speeds during this flight were probably closer to the declassified top speed of Mach 3.2+. (For comparison, the best commercial Concorde flight time was 2 hours 52 minutes, and the Boeing 747 averages 6 hours 15 minutes.)

 

We need passenger jets to go these speeds

The funniest one:

 

PILOT: "Tower, guess who this is inbound for landing!"

 

TOWER: "Guess Who, we must have your tail number."

 

PILOT: "Guess who this is!"

 

TOWER: "OK, Guess Who, please report one mile final."

 

A few minutes later,

 

PILOT: This is Guess Who on one mile final."

 

With that the tower switched off all the lights and said,

 

"Guess Who, Guess where."

 

 

 

Great thread hahaha!

The funniest one:

 

PILOT: "Tower, guess who this is inbound for landing!"

 

TOWER: "Guess Who, we must have your tail number."

 

PILOT: "Guess who this is!"

 

TOWER: "OK, Guess Who, please report one mile final."

 

A few minutes later,

 

PILOT: This is Guess Who on one mile final."

 

With that the tower switched off all the lights and said,

 

"Guess Who, Guess where."

 

 

We need passenger jets to go these speeds

 

 

The Gulfstream Quiet Supersonic Biz jet will be available before you know it.

That was a good read