'This is not a PlayStation game'

highlydebased

In today's Irish Times...
http://www.irishtimes.com/newspaper/features/2011/0816/1224302518839.html

IT’S RUSH hour in the air traffic control tower at Dublin Airport. At 6:45am, four guys in their 30s wearing T-shirts and baseball caps own the runways. Every time a light emerges from the clouds, thundering towards the airport, the controllers are careful not to emit any hint of hesitation or uncertainty. That’s the easy part.

Running things smoothly requires split-second problem-solving and an ability to see five minutes into the future. Given that the slightest delay can compound into 40 minutes by 5pm, the intensity of concentration is palpable.

“Where’s my water, Tony?” asks Daragh Grennan, the surface movements controller, sounding irritated. Tony Brown, the data assistant, gets up and retrieves a bottle of water from a drawer as a rare moment of quiet settles over the room.

“They can safely deal with a maximum of 47 flights per hour,” whispers Dave Usher, general manager of the Irish Aviation Authority. “But flights come in clumps, so surprises are the problem. There has to be part of the brain that can still anticipate [things like] some idiot not doing what he’s told, an engine fire or a bird strike. Not everyone has the cognitive ability to process all that.” It’s a “use it or lose it” skill: this cannot be done part-time. The controllers are constantly monitored and rustiness means retraining. Shifts average eight hours (five days on, three days off) and a minimum 30-minute break must be taken every two hours. But right now the controllers can’t agree whose turn it to rest, each volunteering to stay. “They’re only doing this ’cause you’re here,” says Usher.

The tiny blips inching across their screens are colour-coded – departures are yellow, arrivals are blue – and tagged with flight details containing the type of aircraft, its radar ID number, requested altitude and destination.

Yet for all the technology, old-fashioned physical measures remain integral. Before every clearance, air movements controller Alan Cusack stands up and looks over his shoulder to ensure the runway is clear. Outside, the fire service is on bird patrol, ready to shoo hazardous flocks with bangers, a speeding truck or a shotgun.

Sliding back and forth along the desk between Grennan and Cusack are flight strips: colour-coded pieces of plastic, six inches wide, carrying basic flight information. Every strip shuttles along the slide with a clickety-clack, hitting the outside of the next controller’s hand as a physical reminder that the aircraft in question is now their responsibility.

Downstairs in a darkened operations centre lined with enormous consoles, the bigger picture is pieced together across dozens of screens. “This is not a PlayStation game,” says Don Rennie, the station manager overseeing the floor. “There are more lives in the controllers’ hands this morning than a surgeon will have in his lifetime.”

Rennie, overflowing with 36 years of experience, launches into an extended history of radar, pausing only to interrupt himself. “There’s so much . . . stuff that has to be in your head and on the tip of your tongue. This could be a Saturday morning when your mates are all in bed, feeling the effects of alcohol from the night before, but you couldn’t go out because you had to be at the top of your game at 5am. Shift work is a big strain. For an old married fella like me, family life is built around it. You just know this is the way it has to be.”

He swivels to a radar crammed with grids, patterns and converging aircraft that renders Dublin’s coastline almost unrecognisable. The airspace is 6,000 square nautical miles with a ceiling of 24,000ft, which is divided into sectors. The controllers build a three-dimensional picture in their heads of the airspace they’re responsible for, instinctively detecting whether two radar blips are on course for collision or 1,000ft apart.

“The controller’s always thinking: ‘Will I have room to get this guy across in front of this one? Do I need to turn him five or 10 degrees left? Do I need to slow down a guy out here over the Irish Sea?’” says Rennie. “When you have a lot of air traffic, your adrenaline is up. But when it lulls, that’s when you have to be most careful.”

Stephen Byrne is glued to the area radar control, sequencing inbound aircraft from 40 miles out before handing over to approach radar, which fine-tunes the next 30 miles and then transfers control to the tower. Three flights are 40, 61 and 78 miles away respectively, so their order takes care of itself, but to buy time they can be put in one of four “holds”: stacks of up to six aircraft, separated vertically by 1,000ft, which circle on the perimeter until cleared to land.

Coded instructions are dispensed in rapid-fire: “Four-one-echo-good-day-to-you-Vatry-three-tango-arrival-runway-two-eight-expect-no-delays-descend-flight-level-one-zero-zero.” Air traffic controllers, it seems, can talk and listen simultaneously. They seize upon natural gaps in conversation and cram as much information into them as possible, barely taking a breath. “We do learn to lash things out,” says Byrne. “The pilots expect that. It’s important to get the transmission right but it’s equally important that the information they’re reading back to you is correct. That’s where things fall apart.”

As one pilot requests to land on runway 16/34 (160 and 340 degrees on the compass), Byrne and the approach controller beside him chortle in bemusement. “Pfft. Idiot,” says Byrne. “He just wants a shortcut, that’s all. He thinks he’s landing in a small airport in the middle of nowhere.” There is an art to this, Byrne says, but within the confines of strict procedures where safety comes first, then efficiency. “The skill is just knowing the stuff.” The stressful part, he adds, is when bad weather forces aircraft to abandon established flight paths, meaning the controllers have to brainstorm alternatives.

A co-ordinator hovers over the controllers’ shoulders, poised to suggest solutions or step in to cover for a trip to the toilet. When break time finally comes at 11.30am, Byrne slinks into the kitchen alongside Lilian Cassin, the IAA’s communication manager, who was a controller for 10 years in Shannon Airport. They both came through the ranks together, having seen the job advertised in 1990.

Cassin plays down any talk of caffeine-fuelled all-nighters and adds that most controllers see the job through to retirement age. Maybe they’re helped by the odd lie-down: a peek behind a wall in the computer room reveals chairs apparently arranged to make a bed.

A copy of The Controller magazine lies on the table, its cover a stressed-looking controller touching her temples. The issue’s theme is fatigue, inspired by seven high-profile incidents of controllers falling asleep or being distracted during overnight shifts in the US earlier this year.

“There can be stressful moments,” says Cassin. “We’d be silly to pretend otherwise but day-to-day, it’s the type of job where if you need to psych yourself up or you’re nervous coming into it, you won’t survive.” To help cultivate a no-blame culture, there’s a peer support programme and a mandatory incident reporting scheme. Despite diverse backgrounds (third-level qualifications are not required), shared characteristics and an intense reliance upon each other bolsters their rapport. Most of Dublin Airport’s controllers have been on the same eight teams for years. They know each other’s idiosyncrasies and even spend holidays competing in annual soccer and golf tournaments against teams of other air traffic controllers from Europe and North America.

Job satisfaction, they explain, comes from knowing they comprise a small band of experts who can leave everything behind when they go home for the day.

“There’s a rush; a great sense of achievement that perks you up and there is a certain aura around the job,” says Byrne. But isn’t that because people know so little about it? “Exactly,” he says, laughing. “And that’s the way we want to keep it.”

Air traffic numbers

15,145 Number of commercial flights that passed through Dublin Airport in July, carrying just over two million passengers.

2 Number of main runways at Dublin Airport. Each is named after its position on a compass: 10/28 and 16/34.

24 The number of places on the most recent air traffic control training course, which began in February. There were were 4,134 applications for the course.

19 Minimum age of applicants. They must have at least two higher-level Leaving Certificate papers.

2 Number of years of training. Typically, between 15 and 20 students make the final grade.

€50,000 Starting salary of an air traffic controller, but an experienced controller can make up to €100,000.

80% Percentage of all aircraft that operate between Europe and North America handled by air traffic controllers at Shannon Airport. This equates to approximately 1,200 aircraft every 24 hours during the summer.

75% Percentage of IAA revenue that comes from aircraft travelling throught Irish airspace.

radar0976

highlydebased wrote: »

In today's Irish Times...
http://www.irishtimes.com/newspaper/features/2011/0816/1224302518839.html

Great article. Thanks for posting.