Air Safety

Having got used to the catapult, it then became the normal method of launching aircraft and of course with the introduction of the Sea Venom and Gannet it was the only way to launch aircraft of that type.

This tale concerns a catapult launch from HMAS Vengeance in a Firefly which didn’t go quite according to plan. It was during the Royal Tour of 1954 and Vengeance had been detailed to act as escort to the Royal Tour liner SS Gothic, whilst the Queen visited the various capital cities. Our role was to fly formations over each city and I became quite adept at flying my slot of last Firefly in the vertical leg of the “E” which we normally flew.

On the day in question, following the usual briefing and start up, I taxied up to the catapult, and once tensioned down via the catapult strop and holdback, confirmed with my Observer that he was set for the launch.

This was still in the days of the hydraulic catapult when the power of the stroke was delivered almost instantaneously; not like the smooth accelerating ride given by the later steam catapult.

Having received an affirmative from the back, which meant that everything was stowed and that he was braced for the shot, and most importantly had his head firmly against the head rest (failure to do so could result in a nasty headache!), I gave a thumbs up to the Flight Deck Officer and almost instantly we were on our way.

We were barely airborne when there was a cry from the back indicating that all was not well. I had automatically selected the gear up as soon as the stress of the launch had ceased and was just about to retract the first stage of flap.

My observer’s next words sent a shiver down my spine “My Coke bottle has gone down the back”. I knew immediately what he meant, he had foolishly left his bottle of Coke loose on the cockpit floor on the starboard side and it had been flung into the rear fuselage through a small access hole which had no cover!

We now had a relatively large solid foreign object loose amongst the elevator and rudder control wires and rods with every chance that it would jam one of them.

It’s funny how the human mind works. When you are in mortal danger you tend to go on tip toe as if this method of perambulation will somehow save you. Well I immediately applied the same technique to my flying, holding the control column between a very gentle finger and thumb! I had only one thought and that was to keep the aircraft in its present attitude, and to make all movements as smooth as possible to avoid dislodging the bottle. I clearly had no option but to declare an emergency and to request an immediate recovery.

Now imagine if you will, a half completed deck launch and suddenly the need to clear the flight deck to recover an aircraft. The person causing this chaos had better have a pretty good reason. We had a good reason but how we got it was the problem.

I flew a wide circuit and was soon cleared to make an approach, which I did with extreme caution, getting the aircraft into the landing configuration and attitude as smoothly as I could. The recovery was pretty straight forward and it was with much relief that I folded the wings and taxied forward into the forward deck park and shut down.

I was not a party to the subsequent discussions that took place on the bridge between the Captain and my observer, I felt that my presence was not really required and in any case I was not partial to the sight of blood.

The Coke bottle was soon recovered and as it turned out, it was nowhere near any of the controls. Some years later I was to lose a very good friend in a Vampire when a small dinghy knife which somebody had lost in the aircraft, jammed the elevator controls. It was before the days of ejection seats in Vampires and he failed in his attempt to bail out.

As a result of those two experiences, I have always been concerned about loose objects in aircraft (and cars for that matter) which I suppose is understandable.

My aversion to Coca-Cola advertisements is perhaps even more understandable!