ASRS Reports

When I talked to them on the radio, they said that they did not know I was there until my plane cast a shadow over the cockpit. We were close enough that I could see the paint scheme, type of airplane, and tail number.

However, I believe my own radio calls contributed to the confusion as I incorrectly addressed my radio calls to “Eastsound traffic” rather than “Orcas traffic.”

If this is a commonly used frequency, why in the world isn’t it listed anywhere?

On arrival I was shocked to find that the top of the obstacle, an oil-drilling rig, is right on the centerline and glidepath for Runway 35.

I did not know how much longer I was going to be able to fly the airplane, and if the door was going to rip off and cause structural damage to the airplane.

After landing and securing my aircraft, I tracked down the other pilot that passed under me in the pattern. I asked him if he didn’t hear the other aircraft in the pattern announcing they were using Runway X. He seemed unaware of other traffic. I asked if he even saw my plane in front of him, which he indicated “no,” at which point I expressed my concern.

The course the PT-17 was turning towards appeared to put them on course to pass over the top of me as I departed northbound. I assumed they didn’t see me, so I started a turn roughly 30° to the right and made a radio call that I had the PT-17 in sight and we were no longer a factor for each other.

While on the left base leg I heard another aircraft announce left base. I looked all around and was not able to see another aircraft. I announced and made my turn to final for Runway XX. At that point another aircraft reprimanded me over the CTAF for “cutting me off.” There was some unprofessional “back and forth” on the CTAF where, in the heat of the moment, we expressed our differing opinions of who was at fault.

The chain of events began with my inability to locate the runway while already descending, and my commitment to my base to final approach plan.