Miami ARTCC

  “Universal One Thirty, Miami Center good afternoon. Climb and maintain Flight Level two three zero….Atlantic Three Sixteen, cleared on course….Transway Ninety Six, join AR7 on course…”

On and on, Chris Lopez worked the steady but routine departure traffic. Chris was feeling “in the groove.”

He had the sector and all it’s traffic running smoothly.  He had the “flick.”

“Having the flick,” is a term used by radar controllers, meaning that they have a good mental picture of what is going on in the sector.

“Miami Center, Centurion Five Seven Juliet, over.”

“Centurion Five Seven Juliet, Miami Center. Go ahead,” Chris responded.

“Miami Center, Five Seven Juliet is just northeast of Pompano Beach, climbing out of five thousand five hundred. Request V-F-R flight following to Freeport.”

Chris gave the Centurion a transponder code and went through the identification procedures. Within a minute after the transponder code was entered, a data block for Centurion Five Seven Juliet appeared on the radar scope.

“Centurion Five Seven Juliet,” Chris radioed. “Radar contact seven miles northeast of Pompano Beach. Maintain  V-F-R. Pompano Beach altimeter is three zero one two.”

“Centurion Five Seven Juliet roger. We will be climbing to niner thousand five hundred.”

Chris acknowledged the Centurion and returned his attention to the departures. There were two aircraft that departed Ft. Lauderdale that needed to be put into the string of aircraft that were climbing out of Miami International.

Centurion N1957J

  After Miami Center acknowledged her request, Barb reset the throttle for a little faster climb. There was a little more light turbulence than was forecasted in the last weather report and Barb wanted to climb above the scattered could layer. All three women in the Centurion continued on with small talk and generally catching up on the four years since Barb and Tracey graduated college. They were also slightly more relaxed knowing that Miami Center air traffic controllers were monitoring their progress, keeping an eye on them as they flew further out to sea. It was just over ninety miles, a short thirty five minutes to Freeport and back over land. It always seemed longer. Longer for anybody who ever flew out over the open ocean. Every creak, every noise made by the engine seemed much louder, more heart stopping than when flying over land.

ZMA Sector 21

  “Ruben, get me a higher altitude on this guy. I want to get him above the King Air.” Chris asked as he pointed to the data blocks on the radar scope. A jet departure out of Ft. Lauderdale was overtaking the slower turboprop aircraft in front of it. Chris was running out of lateral room and both aircraft were almost at the same altitude. Chris was asking Ruben to coordinate a higher altitude with the sector above him so that he could keep the jet climbing and not lose separation.

“Three-three zero. Thanks,” Ruben said as he terminated his call. “Give the Atlantic three-three zero,” Ruben told Chris. “But the high altitude sector wants to talk to him as soon as they can. They’re concerned about somebody crossing with him up by Orlando.”

As Chris radioed the altitude clearance to the Atlantic jet, he looked at the data block for Centurion Five Seven Juliet. There was no radar target.

“Centurion Five Seven Juliet, Miami. I’ve lost your transponder. Reset it please.”

After a few seconds of not hearing a reply, Chris continued on with other sector traffic.

Centurion N1957J

  Barb finally got Tracey to let go of the instrument panel and grab hold of the microphone. She told Tracey to hold the microphone up so that she could speak into it. With one hand still holding the instrument panel, Tracey brought the microphone close to Barb’s mouth and pressed the button.

ZMA Sector 21

  Chris and Ruben looked at each other in amazement. The emergency radio transmission was heard by everyone on frequency. For the first time since the departure rush began, there was total silence.

It took a few seconds for Chris to react. He looked in the vicinity of where Centurion Five Seven Juliet was. There was no data block or radar target!

“Ahh…Centurion Five Seven Juliet, ahh…say again?” Chris stammered.

There were several seconds of silence until another aircraft cut in.

“Center, they said that they had an explosion and were forty miles from Freeport.”

Chris blankly stared at the radar scope. He still had a sector full of aircraft. He still had numerous things to do. The emergency radio transmission from the Centurion took him out of his rhythm.

Several long, silent seconds passed as Chris was confronted with one of the worst situations an air traffic controller could face.

He mentally lost control of the sector.