'Meow, meow': Pilots scolded after animal noises heard on air traffic control frequency

Am I drinking milk from a saucer?  Am I eating mice?

I saw the first sentence of your comment and got so giddy knowing where the rest was going. I still laughed like a maniac at the “nimbily bimbily”…I can’t NOT laugh at it.

Nimbly bimbly is my favorite 

Nibbly-bibbly 

Meow stop it!

>The clapback from ATC about still flying regional was also funny. Props to ATC for the burn.

Do it right meow.

Former f15 or globemaster pilot that has zero patience

Last years crash into the Potomac. Also Ronald Reagan.

You know, classics, like Pride and Prejudice, The Great Gatsby, and Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming.

Common in the industry to just get on the radio and repeatedly say “Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming.” You know, old timey nautical stuff. Edit, made just for you u/DoubleClickMouse: There were a lot of things we couldn't do in a container ship, but we were the Ming Ming Ming guys on the block and loved reminding our fellow mariners of this fact. People often ask us if, because of this fact, it was fun to drive the boat. Fun would not be the first word i would use to describe driving the boat. Ming, maybe. Even Ming. But there was one day in our boat experience when we would have to say that it was pure fun to be the Mingest guys out there, at least for a moment. It occurred when Wang and I were boating our final training cruise. We needed 100 days in the boat to complete our training and attain Ming Ready status. Somewhere inside the Persian Gulf we had passed the century mark. We made the turn in Abu Dhabi and the boat was Minging flawlessly. My gauges were wired in the front console and we were starting to feel pretty good about ourselves, not only because we would soon be boating real Mings but because we had gained a great deal of confidence in the boat in the past ten months. Ripping across the barren bottom 300 meters below us, I could already see the Straits of Hormuz from the UAE border. I was, finally, after many humbling months of simulators and Ming, ahead of the boat. I was beginning to feel a bit sorry for Wang in the back seat. There he was, with no really good view of the incredible sea mines before us, tasked with monitoring four different radios. This was good practice for him for when we began boating real Mings, when a priority Ming from headquarters could be vital. It had been difficult, too, for me to relinquish control of the radios, as during my earlier boating career I had controlled my own Mings. But it was part of the division of duties on this boat and I had adjusted to it. I still insisted on talking on the radio while we were in port, however. Wang was so good at many things, but he couldn't match my expertise at sounding Ming on the radios, a skill that had been honed sharply with years in the Ming 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 Wang had to contend with, I pulled the radio toggle switch and monitored the frequencies along with him. The predominant radio chatter was from Jebel Ali Center, far astern of us, controlling daily traffic in their sector. While they had us on their scope (albeit briefly), we were in uncontrolled waters and normally would not talk to them unless we needed to Ming into their waters. We listened as the shaky voice of a lone fishing boat captain asked Center for a readout of his water speed. Center replied: "Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming.” Now the thing to understand about Center controlers, was that whether they were talking to a rookie captain in a fishing boat or to Boat Force One, they always spoke in the exact same, high pitched, frantic, unprofessional tone that made one feel stupid. I referred to it as the "Ming Ming Ming Ming voice." I have always felt that after years of seeing documentaries on this country's Ming program and listening to the ridiculous and squeaky voice of the Hormuz 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 world we would be boating in, it always seemed like the same guy was talking. Over the years that tone of voice had become somewhat of an irritating sound to boaters everywhere. Conversely, over the years, boaters always wanted to ensure that, when transmitting, they sounded like Jack Sparrow, or at least like Dread Pirate Roberts. Better to die than sound bad Minging on the radios. Just moments after the fishing boat's inquiry, a twin engine yacht piped up on frequency, in a rather superior tone, asking for his water speed. "Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming" Boy, I thought, the yacht really must think he is dazzling his fishing boat brethren. Then out of the blue, a navy frigate out of Bahrain came up on frequency. You knew right away it was a Navy jock because he sounded very cool on the radios. "Center, D**** 52 water speed check." Before Center could reply, I'm thinking to myself, hey, D**** 52 has a water speed indicator in that million-dollar bridge, so why is he asking Center for a readout? Then I got it, ol' D**** here is making sure that every fish smasher from Oman to Kuwait knows what true Ming is. He's the Mingest dude in the valley today, and he just wants everyone to know how much fun he is having in his new frigate. And the reply, always with that same, chalkboard voice, with more distinct alliteration than emotion: "Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming." And I thought to myself, is this a ripe situation, or what? As my hand instinctively reached for the mic button, I was to remind myself that Wang was in control of the radios. Still, I thought, it must be done - in mere seconds we'll be out of the Straits and the opportunity will be lost. That frigate must die, and die now. I thought about all 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 Ming. Somewhere, 1.3 nautical miles off the coast of Oman, there was a boater screaming Ming inside his boat helmet. Then, I heard it. The click of the mic button from the back seat. That was the very moment that I knew Wang and I had become a crew. Very professionally, and with no emotion, Wang spoke: "Jebel Ali Center, Asspen 20, can you give us a water speed check?" There was no hesitation, and the reply came as if it was an everyday request. "Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming." I think it was the Ming Ming Ming Ming 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 Wang 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 boater-person-like voice: "Ah, Center, much thanks. We're showing closer to Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming.” For a moment Wang was a god. And we finally heard a little crack in the armor of the Jebel Center voice, when they came back with, "Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming, Ming Ming Ming, Ming." It had lasted for just moments, but in that short, memorable spring across the gulf, the Navy had been flamed, and all mortal boats on freq were forced to bow before the King of Ming, and more importantly, Wang and I had crossed the threshold of being a Ming. A fine day's Ming. We never heard another Ming on that Ming all the way to the Ming. For just one Ming, it truly was Ming being the Mingest guys out there.

This, maybe? [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k85mRPqvMbE](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k85mRPqvMbE) Ding ding ding ding ding ding ding!

Thanks for the 15 year old memories

My friend knew what to type to translate through the gibberish filter and would go around as a goblin telling alliance he loved them.

Does anyone know where Mankrik's wife is?

Yeah, small fishing boats are pretty much the bane of my existence. Hard to see on radar, often not focused on navigational hazards, can be hard to maneuver, lacks radio communication, lacks AIS, erratic movement, appears in large concentrations, sometimes no lights at night, and the list goes on. In the Persian Gulf many of them believe the propeller wash of large vessels are where the fish are, so they will specifically change course to appear like it’s on a collision course with your vessel, only to miss your stern by ~20m and begin their fishing. For all I b**** and moan about them, they are out there trying to make a living doing really hard work oftentimes with their whole family on board, so I do my best to leave them be. They sometimes call and ask me to change course to avoid their nets, which I have no issue doing. My vessel is about 250 meters long.

The pilots flying seaplanes in and out of Lake Union in Seattle will tell you the same thing. The boats (and paddle boarders and hot tub boats etc) don’t listen to the aviation frequencies so the pilots just look for a gap and send it.

*ming ming ming ming ming ming ming*

_thousand yard stare_

Being on the bridge and navigating the ship is very much like a video game sometimes. Using the radar is like high risk Frogger, and managing all the different systems and spreadsheets and checklists is like EVE online or Civ. I always maintain that good strategy gamers have an advantage to being good navigators.

No idea really, I think they just represent such a huge part of the crews on ships that a little poking fun back and forth at each other is unavoidable. Maybe some Filipino/Indian mariners can chime in.

Oh yeah! The wings or pin you got. I'll have to check my memories box and see if mine is in there. I know we flew United back then. I also remember that the pilot flew a 360 around Mt. Ranier so everyone could get a good look. Those were the days.

I still have my wings from America West! Two sets, even. They're plastic, and they don't have a pin on them (they just had double-sided tape with release tape over it), but they're still cool!

I have my Delta wings!

Same here. Pan Am flights as a kid, cockpit visits, and wings on flights between Texas and Ohio. No “meow” on guard back then though.

I was one of the 90s kids that regularly got to go in the cockpit during flight. I figured it was because I was usually flying solo and when I wasn’t solo it’s because I was always chatting with the flight attendants. You used to get a little pin as well.

i got to see the cockpit one time, but it was at the end of the flight, not in the air. got a pin, took a look around at all the crazy amount of buttons. many years later, it inspired me to go on to become certified in Microsoft Flight Simulator. people could also go inside the terminals to wait for arrivals all the way at the boarding gate.

I'm pretty sure that was a thing until about September of 2001....

I remember going into the cockpit and the pilots gave me a little wing badge. I was probably around 4 and I still recall it fondly. A shame we can't do that anymore.

I actually was allowed in a cockpit in the late 2000s, most likely even during the early 2010s. I didn't get a pin or anything, but they did give me chocolate. The airline was Iranian though... I've been flying my entire life and this never happened on a western airline, so I'm guessing those don't really offer that anymore

We flew interstate (within Australia) on my son’s birthday about 10 years ago and the aircrew let him into the cockpit to speak to the captain once we landed. It was a very cool experience for a kid, I think he was turning 11. I still have the photos somewhere.

Essentially pilots will key up the mic on the emergency frequency (121.5mHz) and say “meow” as a joke to try and get a giggle out of other pilots when they’re bored and just flying around. Nothing else to it.

Is it true where in the article it says the guard frequency is for emergencies? If so, really f’ed up.

Don't you know what plane it's coming from? I work in transit and when a driver talks, we know what bus is transmitting. Could it be someone with a renegade radio doing this?

Yea it was like a few times a day. Does seem to be dying down though.

Is this like the 'UwU' appearing inside maintenance bays of jets across the country?

Plus the “you’re on guaarrrd” whenever a legitimate transmission goes out.

I was working ramp at United and one night my pushback driver, who used to work for southwest, told me that once he was doing an air start on a Southwest 737 and the pilot said "flight deck to ground, we're ready for b******"

Nope. They legit mean meowing… we have an emergency only frequency (121.5). And if you monitor that frequency it is pretty common to hear other pilots meowing. It’s been a thing for a long time. I’ve never flown with someone in 10 years that has done it, but they are out there.

> You ever been in a voice chat with an autistic transgender puppy girl? Do you have the slightest idea how little that narrows it down? I’m also friends with a Puerto Rican ferret who is currently a flight attendant and wants to be a pilot. Suspiciously wealthy furries don’t just magically pop into existence.

Every transfem circle has one friend in the aerospace industry stimulating the local trans economy.  If your comment or mine don't make sense to the reader, they don't know enough t girls.