Friday dip - when former and current worlds 'collide'

Thoughts to wash over you for the weekend

Pun fully intended

As I swam round the lake yesterday morning, slightly bleary and fatigued (definitely in dormouse mode) I swam ‘head up’ breaststroke, to take in the surroundings, absorb nature, be at one. I was feeling quite zen and peaceful, a million miles from my previous hectic life of juggling air traffic control shifts with raising a family, the pressures of being the breadwinner juxtaposed against my failing physical and mental health.

Thoughts of those times were so far from my mind, until half way around the lake, I found myself enveloped in a cacophony of noise. A flock of geese approached - flying towards the water’s surface in deceptively random formation, squawking loudly as they went nose up, landing gear down, flaps at 40 and air brakes at the ready.

(My pics above - apologies if the below stock photo is in fact ducks - I mean I’m fairly confident they’re geese - but those that worked with me know aircraft recognition never was my strong point. My colleagues words still ringing in my ears:‘Emma - an Airbus A320 looks like Jimbo and the Jet-Set, a Boeing 737 is lower down and pointy’. ‘Ahh, yes’ I would nod knowingly over the top of the binoculars, none the wiser).

Ground control to Major Tom

I stopped swimming and marvelled as their webbed feet made contact with the water full rudder, wings wide then settled, bellies smooth on the surface as their feet worked away underneath in classic ‘swan’ mode, taxiing to their respective fishing spots for breakfast.

Egyptian geese, Canadian geese, ducks and..er...others, all seamlessly blending in and around each other, albeit with quite a lot of honking, hustling for prime position and asserting their landing order. In that moment I was transported back to my days working at Gatwick Tower, controlling what was then the busiest single runway in the world; reflecting on how just as art imitates life, life imitates nature in the most brilliant way.

As I swim, I dust off my headset.

“AIR CANADA GOOSE 123 - CLEARED TO LAND. SURFACE WIND: 090 DEGREES 10 KNOTS”

Cleared for take-off

After the waterfowl had settled a while, and were fed and watered, there was palpable tension as they prepared to get airborne once more. A ruffling of feathers here, a display of wing there.

“EGYPT AIR GOOSE 789 - READY FOR DEPARTURE”

“EGYPT AIR GOOSE 789 - ROGER; HOLD A2. YOU ARE NUMBER TWO FOR DEPARTURE”

Disgruntled goose honks.

“AIR CANADA GOOSE 123 - READY FOR DEPARTURE”

“AIR CANADA GOOSE 123 - ROGER; AFTER THE LANDING DUCK AIR APPROACHING IN YOUR LEFT, 10 O’CLOCK, CLEARED FOR TAKE OFF. SURFACE WIND: 090 DEGREES 8 KNOTS“

Throaty preparatory rumble.

“EGYPT AIR GOOSE 789 - READY”

Air traffic controller eye roll.

“ROGER EGYPT AIR GOOSE 789 - I HEARD YOU THE FIRST TIME - HOLD POSITION. ACKNOWLEDGE”

Much wing flapping, chest expansion and demonstration of importance.

“EGYPT AIR GOOSE REQUESTING GEESE FORMATION DEPARTURE”

Typical. Double eye roll and accompanying sigh. There’s always one who wants to make a last minute change. I don’t think I received any paperwork about this - I will have to reprimand our ‘operations’ department. That said, there is plenty of airspace available to them so denying them permission would seem churlish.

“EGYPT AIR GEESE FORMATION; CLEARED TO DESTINATION. LEAD GOOSE SQUAWK 4327”

With the Canada geese safely out of the way, and nothing visibly inbound, they’re good to go.

“EGYPT AIR GEESE FORMATION - CLEARED FOR TAKE OFF. AFTER DEPARTURE TURN RIGHT HEADING 120, CLIMB ALTITUDE FOUR THOUSAND FEET. CAUTION: RED KITES IN VICINITY, SURFACE WIND: 085 SEVEN KNOTS”

Photo by Sean Alabaster on Unsplash

Cacophonous rumble, and they are off: rising in arrogant yet glorious formation, squawking in unison, before breaking right and dispersing. It’s like the Red Arrows all over again.

The Morning Rush

A lull in the traffic...I carry on swimming. A few birds bob past me with a friendly nod or squawk, and then quiet. The morning outbound rush is over. As I swim the long edge of the lake I reflect on how we can over complicate things by applying rules and order. I see myself back in the seat at Gatwick with my headset on overlooking the runway.

Gatwick is such an exquisitely fine tuned operation. There are literally seconds between one aircraft going ‘wheels up’ to depart and the next thundering down to land. All monitored. Sharing one piece of tarmac, maximising traffic, trying to ensure everyone gets where they need to be on time (ish). It was quite something to experience - a far from accidental design in safety and efficiency. (Note to nervous travellers - safety ALWAYS comes first).

There was a theory in air traffic that by shoe-horning all the aircraft into ‘motorways’ in the sky, thereby bringing them closer together, we were actually increasing the likelihood of them coming into conflict. I ponder this as I watch the birds.

How perhaps if we just let everyone do their own thing in the big wide sky, there would be plenty of room for all - less congestion, less concentrated noise. The birds seem to get by ok - they only ever really crash if they fly into an aircraft...

“MAYDAY MAYDAY BIRD STRIKE”

I’d say it’s more of an emergency for the bird, although ‘Sully’ Sullenberger (#hero) may beg to differ.

Photo by Neil Mewes on Unsplash

Cooperation and communication

I listen to how the birds around the lake communicate with each other, and wonder if they understand each other’s languages. How do they know who is going to land on which piece of water? How do they never fly into each other? Who gets precedence? I did a Masters in Disaster Management later in my career, studying quite a few plane crashes in detail, and miscommunication is always a factor.

The worst ever loss of life aircraft collision was on the runway at Tenerife airport in 1977. Nearly 600 people died, and language and communication was key in the disastrous and tragic chain of events. I could literally write a whole book about that (and perhaps will one day), but as I look at the birds flocking in and around the lake, speaking in their different languages I marvel at how they cooperate and co-exist.

Photo by Barth Bailey on Unsplash

Runway occupied

Back in the water, just as I’m turning the corner onto my ‘base leg’ towards the shore, another flock of geese approach, landing with their feet inches from my face, splashing me, flapping around my head. I duck and shriek!! And then burst out laughing. This landing area was OCCUPIED!! Do they not know the rules!??!?

“GO AROUND I SAY AGAIN GO AROUND! TURN RIGHT IMMEDIATELY HEADING 180! CLIMB TO ALTITUDE THREE THOUSAND FEET!”

No response. Radio silence.

“AVOIDING ACTION!! SWIMMER - LEFT, EIGHT O’CLOCK, PASSING LEFT TO RIGHT, SURFACE LEVEL.”

Yeah whatever, it’s our lake, not yours.

At this point I am laughing out loud at their irreverence, at being a joyous witness to their processes, whilst simultaneously wondering how to file a mandatory occurrence report on them and who I should contact at the Civil Aviation Authority.

I still have contacts, you know.

It’s all part of the story

As I reflect on the seeming gulf between those air traffic days and today in terms of how I live my life, I realise that it’s all part of my story. Where I am now has been informed and facilitated by what I did then. I will never be an air traffic controller again, yet I will also always be an air traffic controller. Just as if I stopped coaching, I would always be a coach, and if I stop writing... well that’s never going to happen.

Each former phase influences the next, and as we get older that story just becomes more layered and interesting. Each chapter building on the last. How we manage ‘endings’ is a whole other piece in itself, but it was joyful for me to relive the excitement and exhilaration of my former career in my head, as I immersed in the lake.

Trying to remember radio-telephony and procedures whilst chuckling inwardly about my air traffic friends who will read this and feel the need to correct me. Wondering if this article will make any sense to others at all. Feeling proud of that phase of my life and the perspective it has given me on the world.

Photo by frank mckenna on Unsplash

As my next chapter evolves, I realise that this is exactly what these life stages are - evolutions. Where they may seem so incongruous, they are more connected than we think.

I’m currently writing my second book which focuses on the love language, culture and rituals of tea; reflecting on how we pass down stories and traditions in ways other than words. I will be studying with the UK Tea Academy, and I’m not yet sure how this segues in with my other experiences, but I know that it will, somehow, and that it is what I’ve done before that has brought me to this.

I look forward to my next unexpected collision.

How have your former experiences circled back around in later life? What knowledge had you long forgotten that came back and surprised you in a different phase?

I’d love to hear.

Love & lemons 🍋

Em x