A good sea story can be good for the soul. Takes a ragged out geriatric old fart back to his other life when he ran with the big dogs.

*Oyster’s magnificent Adventure *
Here's the detail of Oyster's “intense learning experience”. It makes me extremely proud to be a Naval Aviator!! I'm even happier that I'm not scheduled for that 2300 go :-)
Cheers, Guido


For those that might need a glossary of shipboard terminology, here’s a short one. You can refer back here if you need to:

· Military = Full engine RPM but without afterburner.
· Blower = Afterburner (A/B) (several stages of burner are available)
· Min-Blower = Lowest stage of A/B.
· CAG = Carrier Air Group Commander (In charge of the Air Group aboard ship)
· LSO/Paddles = Landing Signals Officer (Landing Observer - gives life-saving counsel to pilot)
· Barrier = A cable and nylon fence raised as a last resort to trap an aircraft on the flight deck.
· PLAT video = Videotape taken of all launches and recoveries aboard ship.
· "Eat at Joe's Lights" = Wave-off lights. Mandatory full power and climb.
· "Yellow & Black Handle" = Ejection handle.
· Ball/ Meat ball = Orange light between horizontal datum lights that shows whether you're on,
above or below the glidepath.
· "Roger Ball" = On glide path – ball is.between the datum lights
· State = Fuel remaining in thousands of pounds. (e.g. State 1.1 = 1,100# of fuel)
· Clara = "I can't see the ball"
· FDC = Flight Deck Captain is in charge of all aircraft handling on the flight deck.
· CATCC = Carrier Air Traffic Control Center (Ship's Air Traffic Control).
· Fuck = "Oh my gosh, this is not good!!!!!!!!"

Here's his story.
---------------------------------------------

Greetings Slacker Landlubbers (except for you Dell), Hey, I felt the need to share with you all the
exciting night I had on the 23rd. It has nothing to do with me wanting to talk about me and it has
everything to do with sharing what will no doubt become a better story as the years go by. So..

.....There I was, manned up a hot seat for the 2030 launch about 500 miles north of Hawaii (insert
visions of "The Shore Bird" and many mai tais here). Spotted just forward of the nav pole and
eventually taxied off toward the island where I do a 180 and get spotted to be the first one off cat I
(insert foreboding music here). There's another Hornet from our sister squadron parked ass over
the track in about a quarter of the way down the cat.

Eventually he gets a move on and they lower my launch bar and start the launch cycle. All systems
are go on the runup and after waiting the requisite 5 seconds or so to make sure my flight controls
are good to go (you know, there's a lot to be said for good old cables and pulleys), I turn on my
lights. As is my habit I shift my eyes to the catwalk and watch the deck edge dude and as he starts
his routine of looking left, then right, I put my head back. I hate to say this but the Hornet cat shot is
pretty impressive: equivalent I would say to a gassed up K. (You agree Gato?)

As the cat fires, I stage the blowers and am along for the ride. Just prior to the end of the stroke
there's a huge flash and a simultaneous boom! And my world is in turmoil. My little pink body is
doing 145 knots or so and is 100 feet above the Black Pacific. And there it stays - except for the
knot package, which decreases to 140 knots.

Somewhere in here I raised my gear which is interesting since it is not a Hornet "off the cat"
boldface. It is however, if I recall correctly, an Intruder boldface. Oops! The throttles aren't going any
farther forward despite my Schwarzzenegerian efforts to make them do so.

>From out of the ether I hear a voice say one word: "Jettison”. Roger that! A nanosecond later my
two drops and single MER - about 4500 pounds in all - are Black Pacific bound. The airplane leapt
up a bit but not enough. I'm now about a mile in front of the boat at 160 feet and fluctuating from 135
to140 knots. The next comment that comes out of the ether is another one-worder: "Eject!"

I'm still flying so I respond, "Not yet, I've still got it”. Our procedures call for us to intercept on speed
which is 8.1 alpha and I'm fluctuating from about 8 1/2 to 11 or so. Finally, at 4 miles I take a peek at
my engine instruments and notice my left engine doesn't match the right (funny how quick glimpses
at instruments get burned into your brain).

The left rpm is at 48% even though I'm still doing the Ah-Nold thing. I bring it back to mil. About now
I get another "Eject!" call. "Nope, still flying”. Deputy Cag (TROTS Trotter) was watching and the
further I got from the boat, the lower I looked. At 5 1/2 miles I asked tower to please get the helo
headed my way as I truly thought I was going to be shelling out.

At some point I thought it would probably be a good idea to start dumping some gas. As my hand
reached down for the dump switch I actually remembered that we have a NATOPS prohibition
regarding dumping while in burner. After a second or two I decided, "fuck that" and turned them on:
Major "Big Wave"

Dave Leppelmeier joined on me at one point and told me later that I had a 60 foot roman candle
going.

At 7 miles I eventually started a (very slight) climb. A little breathing room.

CATCC chimes in with a downwind heading and I'm like: "Ooh. Good idea and throw down my
hook”. Eventually I get headed downwind at 900 feet and ask for a rep. While waiting I shut down
the left engine. In short order I hear Scott "Fuzz" McClure's voice. I tell him the following: "OK Fuzz,
my gear's up, my left motor's off and I'm only able to stay level with min blower. Every time I pull it to
mil I start about a hundred feet per minute down”.

I just continue trucking downwind trying to stay level and keep dumping. I think I must have been in
blower for about fifteen minutes. At ten miles or so I'm down to 5000 pounds of gas and start a turn
back toward the ship. I don't intend to land, but don't want to get too far away.

Of course as soon I as I start in an angle of bank I start dropping like a stone so I end up doing a 5
mile circle around the ship. Fuzz is reading me the single engine rate of climb numbers from the PCL
based on temperature, etc. It doesn't take us long to figure out that things aren't adding up. One of
the things I learned in the RAG was that the Hornet is a perfectly good single engine aircraft. It flies
great on one motor. So why the fuck do I need blower to stay level!?


By this time I'm talking to Fuzz (CATCC), Deputy (turning on the flight deck), and CAG, who's on the
bridge with the Captain. We decide that the thing to do is climb to three thousand feet and dirty up
to see if I'm going to have any excess power and will be able to shoot an approach. I get headed
downwind, go full burner on my remaining motor and eventually make it to 2000 feet before leveling
out below a scattered layer of puffies. There's a half a moon above which was really, really cool.
Start a turn back toward the ship and when I get pointed in the right direction I throw the gear down
and pull the throttle out of AB.

Remember that flash/boom! that started this little tale? Repeat it here. Holy fuck! I jam it back into
AB and after three or four huge compressor stalls and accompanying decel the right motor comes
back. I'm thinking my blood pressure was probably up there about now and for the first time I notice
that my mouth feels like a San Joaquin summer (That would be hot and fucking dusty for those of
you who haven't come to visit). I may have said "Shit!" on the radio here but haven't listened to the
full tape yet and it could have been "Fuck!"

This next part is great.

You know those stories about guys who deadstick crippled airplanes away from orphanages and
puppy stores and stuff and get all this great media attention? Well, at this point I'm looking at the
picket ship at my left 11 at about two miles and I say on departure freq to no one inparticular, "You
need to have the picket ship hang a left right now. I think I'm gonna be outta here in a second”. I
said it very calmly but with meaning. The LSO's said that the picket immediately started pitching out
of the fight. Ha! I scored major points with the heavies afterwards for this. Anyway, it's funny
how your mind works in these situations.

OK, so I'm dirty and I get it back level and pass a couple miles up the starboard side of the ship. I'm
still in min blower and my state is now about 2500 pounds. Hmmm. I hadn't really thought about
running out of gas. I muster up the nads to pull it out of blower again and sure enough...flash,
BOOM! You gotta be shitting me. I'm thinking that I'm gonna end up punching and tell Fuzz at this
point "Dude, I really don't want to do this again”.

Don't think everyone else got it but he said he chuckled.

I leave it in mil and it seems to settle out. Eventually discover that even the tiniest throttle
movements cause the flash/boom thing to happen so I'm trying to be as smooth as I can. I'm
downwind a couple miles when CAG comes up and says "Oyster, we're going to rig the barricade”.
Remember, CAG's up on the bridge watching me fly around doing blower donuts in the sky and he's
thinking I'm gonna run outta JP-5 too. By now I've told everyone who's listening that there a better
than average chance that I'm going to be ejecting - the helo bubbas, god bless 'em, have been
following me around this entire time.

I continue downwind and again, sounding more calm than I probably was, call paddles. "Paddles,
you up?" "Go ahead" replies LT "Max" Stout, one of our CAG LSO's. "Max, I probably know most of
it but you wanna’ shoot me the barricade brief?" (Insert long pause here.)

After the fact Max told me they went from expecting me to eject to me asking for the barricade brief in
about a minute and he was hyperventilating. He was awesome on the radio though, just the kind of
voice you'd want to hear in this situation.)

He gives me the brief and at nine miles I say, "If I turn now will it be up when I get there? I don't want
to have to go around again”. "It's going up now Oyster, go ahead and turn”.

"Turning in, say final bearing”.

"063" replies the voice in CATCC. (Another number I remember - go figure).

OK, we're on a four degree glideslope and I'm at 800 feet or so. I intercept glideslope at about a mile
and three quarters and pull power. Flash/boom. Add power out of fear. Going high. Pull power.
Flash/boom. Add power out of fear. Going higher. (Flashback to LSO school)... All right class,
today's
lecture will be on the single engine barricade approach. "Remember, the one place you really, really
don't want to be is high. Are there any questions?"

"Yes, you can go play golf now”.

The PLAT video is most excellent as each series of flash/booms shows up nicely along with the
appropiate reflections on the water. "Flats" Jensen, our other CAG paddles is backing up and as I
start to set up a higher than desired sink rate he hits the "Eat At Joe's" lights. Very timely too. With
visions of the A-3 dancing in my head, I stroke AB and cross the flight deck with my right hand on the
stick and my left thinking about the little yellow and black handle between my legs. No worries.

I cleared that sucker by at least ten feet. By the way, my state at the ball call was 1.1.

As I slowly descend I say, again to no one in particular, "I can do this”. Max and Flats heard this and
told me later it made them feel much better about my state of mind.

I'm in blower still and CAG says, "Turn downwind”. Again, good idea. After I get turned around he
says, "Oyster, this is gonna’ be your last look so turn in again as soon as you're comfortable”.

I'm at 800 feet and hook myself at 2.8 (remember this number as I will subtract .1 every couple years
until I reach the point where I say, "It was HUGE, I flew the DAY pattern!) I lose about 200 feet in the
turn and like a total dumbshit I look out as I get on centerline and that night thing about feeling high
gets me and I descend further to 400 feet. I got kinda pissed at myself then as I realized I would now
be intercepting the four degree glideslope in the fucking middle. No shit fellas, flash/boom every
several seconds all the way down. Last look at my gas was 600-and-some pounds at a mile and a
half.

"Where am I on the glideslope Max" I ask ask and hear a calm "Roger Ball”. I know I'm low because
the ILS is waaay up there and I call "Clara”. Can't remember what the response was but by now the
ball's shooting up from the depths. I start flying it and before I get a chance to spot the deck. I hear
"Cut, cut, cut!" I'm really glad I was a paddles for so long because my mind aid to me "Do what he
says Oyster" and I pulled it back to idle. The reason I mention this is that I felt like I was a LONG
FUCKING WAYS OUT THERE – if you know what I mean. (My hook hit 11 Oyster paces from the
ramp, as I discovered during FOD walkdown today.)

The rest is pretty tame. I hit the deck, skipped the one, the two and snagged the three and rolled into
the barricade about a foot right of centerline. Once stopped my vocal chords involuntarily yelled
"Victory!" on button 2 (the 14 guys who were listening in marshal said it was pretty cool. After the
fact I wish I had done the Austin Powers' "Yeah Baby!" thing.)

The lights came up and off to my right there must have been a ga-zillion cranials. Paddles said that
with me shutdown you could hear a huge cheer across the flight deck. I open the canopy and start
putting my shit in my helmet bag and the first guy I see is our FDC, huge guy named Chief Richards
and he gives me the coolest look and then two thumbs up. I will remember it forever. Especially
since I'm the Maintenance Officer.

The first guy up the boarding ladder is CAG Paddles. I will tell you what he said over beers
someday. It was priceless and in my mind one for the ages. I climb down and people are gathering
around patting me on the back when one of the boat's crusty yellow-shirt chiefs interrupts and says,

"Gentlemen, great job but fourteen of your good buddies are still up there
and we need to get them aboard”. Again, priceless.

So there you have it fellas. Here I sit with my little pink body in a ready room chair on the same tub I
did my first cruise in 10 years and 7 months ago. And I thought it was exciting back then.

Look forward to getting to stage five with you all someday soon.

Oyster out.

------------

P.S. You're probably wondering what made my motors shit themselves and I almost forgot to tell you.
Remember the scene with the foreboding music? When they taxied that last Hornet - the one that
was ass over the cat track - they forgot to remove a section or two of the cat seal. The board's not
finished yet but it's a done deal. As the shuttle came back it removed the cat seal which went down
both motors during the stroke. Again, good video for someday over beers.

Left engine N1 (Fan) basically quit even though the motor is in pretty good shape. It was producing
no thrust and during the waveoff one of the LSO's saw "about thirty feet" of black rubber hanging off
the left side of the airplane. The whole left side, including inside the intake is basically black where
the rubber was beating on it in the breeze.

The right motor, the one that kept running, has 340 major hits to all stages. The compressor section
is trashed and best of all, it had two pieces of the cat seal -one about 2 feet and the other about 4
feet long, sticking out of the first stage and into the intake. God Bless General Electric! By the way,
ECAMS data showed that I was fat - had 380 pounds of gas when I shut down. Again, remember this
number as in ten years it will surely be FUMES. "MAN, FUMES I TELL YOU! "