A Veteran's Journey

Trivia Questions (Answers @ end)

1. Who said, “Life is like the ocean. It can be calm or still, and rough or rigid, but in the end, it is always beautiful.”?
2. In what movie did we hear (and who said it), “They say home is where the heart is, and for most people that consists of four walls and a welcome mat. But for me, it’s the ocean, with the warmth of the sun on my skin.”?
3. What song (and who sang it) did we hear:
   It’s getting near dawn
   When lights close their tired eyes
   I’ll soon be with you my love
   Give you my dawn surprise
   I’ll be with you darling soon
   I’ll be with you when the stars start falling

---

---

WESTPAC—A US Navy deployment from the west coast to the western Pacific Ocean involving a variety of ships, including aircraft carriers, cruisers, destroyers, and submarines, as well as aircraft and other supporting units. Back in my day (mid ‘70s), the forward deployment base was Naval Station Subic Bay, Philippines. Currently, the forward deployment base is Yokosuka, Japan.

First Stop—Hawaii

Our first destination was Hawaii, a trip that would take about six days from San Diego. We’d be in and out twice before departing for the Philippines.

When a carrier first leaves port, there are no aircraft onboard; at least not when we departed for Westpac ‘75. The air wing squadron maintenance personnel were aboard, but the aircraft and the pilots would fly out and land on the carrier.

Heading out to sea, we all had our routines—both those that “needed” to be done and those individual “personal” routines (wink, wink). We had maintenance on the Crash equipment, boring things like check the oil, kick the tires, and check that the Oshkosh MB-5 truck had water and was stocked with AFFF (Aqueous Film Forming Foam) bright blue 5-gallon containers.

And, as always, training, drills, and other various activities to keep us busy. But I managed to find a little time to walk around the flight deck. One thing still stands out to me: the ocean seemed to get bluer and bluer the farther out at sea we sailed.

Onboard Personnel

Most people don’t realize an aircraft carrier (back in the 70s) had about 3,000 ship’s personnel (officers & enlisted) that keep the carrier afloat and operational. Add another 2,500 for the air wing squadrons, a total of about 5,500 men (and now women). I think the numbers are close to the same on today’s carriers. That’s a lotta folks on a floating city. Each of us had a responsibility, and when carried out effectively, it led to a remarkable coordinated endeavor.

It takes a lot to feed the crew. “Culinary Specialists” (“Mess Specialist” back in my day) prepare and serve about 17,000 meals a day, including 900 loaves of bread when the ship is underway. That’s a lotta meals to prepare, cook, & serve every day.

I’ll also tell you this… I never went hungry while in the Navy; not in Guam nor while I was aboard Kitty Hawk. There was always plenty of food. However, sometimes the chow lines were long—it was common for me to spend an hour just waiting in line.

A few days into the cruise, it finally dawned on me—while I work for the Navy, the Navy works for me. Where else could I work and get an all-expense paid trip to Guam, Hawaii, the Philippines, Hong Kong, and a bunch of other great places?

And the best thing? I got paid for it – a whopping $3,150 a year. Though I didn’t complain about the extra $50 a month for flight deck hazardous duty pay. Sure, I had to put up with a lot of crap, but I had learned how to circumvent most of it. That was a lesson that I learned to take and run with, not only in my brief Navy career but also throughout my life. You can sit back and take it, or you take it and run with it.

Stand By to Recover Aircraft

Not long after we sailed out of San Diego Bay, the Air Boss announced over the 5MC (flight deck PA system), “Stand by to recover aircraft.”

Music to my ears. While I’d only been aboard for a few months, I’d been out to sea several times working on the flight deck. I knew my way around and where I needed to be and, more importantly, where not to be.

During flight operations, there are usually around 200 personnel on the flight deck. Most of us were between 18 and 20 years old—a lot of responsibility to place on us “kids,” but we’d all received training and knew what we were doing.

Since it’s so loud and always in continuous movement, everyone wears a colored jersey to identify their role. I worked in V-1 Division; we had Yellow Shirts (Aircraft Directors), Blue Shirts (Aircraft Handlers & Tractor Drivers), and Red Shirts (Crash & Salvage). Other colored jerseys designated different roles for different departments.

Today, it’s common to hear the word “Skittles” when on the flight deck. The candy wasn’t invented back in my day (yes, I’m THAT old).

My “position” during recovery operations (since I was a petty officer in Crash), was alongside what’s known as the “Foul Line”—an alternating red & white striped line running the length of the flight deck from the fantail to the angle. That line represented the recovery area… where the aircraft would land & (hopefully) catch one of the four arresting gear cables stretched across the deck.

Gary Borne (R.I.P.), my good friend who was also with me at NAS Agana, Guam, was also in Crash. He & I would usually be standing next to the Crash tractor, which was positioned along the foul line.

Aircraft Recovery Operations

The captain turns the ship into the wind, providing additional airflow over the flight deck, therefore allowing the aircraft to land at a lower speed, usually around 120–150 knots. Keep in mind the recovery area is only about 100 yards—the length of a football field—and he stops in under three seconds.

Aircraft approach from the stern of the ship in formation, usually by squadrons. For example, a squadron of four or five F-4 Phantoms would approach together along the starboard side of the ship, usually about 800 feet ASL. When they reach a certain point just ahead of the bow, the first one will break sharply to the port side (left) and enter the traffic pattern. The “pattern” is similar to an oval racetrack. It’s usually about a mile wide and about 4 miles long around the port side of the carrier. The downwind leg is about 600 feet above the water. After a bit, the second aircraft in the formation will break to the port and also enter the pattern.

My good friend from Texarkana, Smitty (Jimmy Smith) was a Yellow Shirt in Fly 3. He was the director on the angle who would signal the pilot that he’d caught the wire, signal again to release his brakes, raise his hook, and direct him to taxi out of the recovery area toward the starboard side of the ship. Fly 1 Yellow Shirts would then direct the aircraft to move up the bow to park.

The next aircraft would already be on approach and land about 30-45 seconds after the first aircraft. We’d continue that recovery until all aircraft are aboard. It is truly a sight to see, going from a clear flight deck to one with about 50 aircraft parked along all sides.

Landing

You’ve probably seen movies or YouTube videos of aircraft landing aboard a carrier.

Next time, look closely from the pilot’s POV… the landing area is not aligned with the course the ship is steaming. The landing area on angled flight decks is canted 12-14 degrees to the port of the ship’s centerline. That means as the pilot approaches the final leg, he’ll cross the ship’s wake at a shallow angle and continue his turn for another 12 degrees to align with the landing area. The ship is slightly moving forward from left to right.

I never saw any of this from my position on the flight deck and can’t even imagine the adrenaline the pilot experienced. Though I’ve heard pilots compare landing an aircraft on a flight deck to sex: “It’s the best sex you’ll have with your clothes on.”

The “goal” of the pilot is to catch the #3 wire—arresting gear cables are numbered 1 through 4 from the fantail. Catching #1 wire would mean the pilot was low on approach. Catching #4 wire would mean he was high and in danger of a “bolter,” meaning his tail hook would miss the wire and he’d fly off the angle for another go around.

How Close Are We?

I can’t tell you how exciting it was to be that close to these awesome aircraft and pilots. The foul line is right alongside the recovery area and when aircraft land, they are only about a dozen yards away. Yeah, it could be dangerous, especially at night… in a heavy rainstorm… where you can’t see the aircraft navigational lights until they’re directly over the fantail.

And… if that aircraft was an E-2 Hawkeye with a wingspan almost as wide as the recovery area and drifting a bit to the starboard side of the ship’s centerline, we might be able to reach up and touch the wingtip as he passes over.

That is, if we weren’t hauling ass out of the way.

Ahh… good times, great memories.

Next time… transit to PI (the Philippines).

Until we meet again,
Andy

Andy Adkins is a US Navy veteran (’73-77) and the author of several books (www.azadkinsiii.com), many of which are free downloads (PDF, eBook format). He is currently retired and lives in Gainesville, Florida with his wife and life-long soulmate, Becky.

Previous Blogs mentioned in the Post:

• #37—Hawaii, One Word: Beautiful
• #20—Port Call: Philippines
• #54—Westpac ’75 Aircraft Carrier Squadrons
• #40—Midrats… and other Navy Chow
• #83—Flight Deck “Skittles”
• #61—There’s a Reason for the Flight Deck “Foul Line”
• #98—Flight Ops: Aircraft Recovery

Answers

1. Anonymous.
2. Soul Surfer (2011), Bethany Hamilton (AnnaSophia Robb)
3. Sunshine of Your Love (1967), Cream; written by Eric Patrick Clapton, Jack Bruce, Peter Constantine Brown, & Peter Ronald Brown.