Air Safety- Wave Off

I first learnt about the effects of density back in the early fifties shortly afterjoining my first squadron which was operating MK VI Fireflies. The squadron had recently suffered a fatal deck landing accident and I inherited the Petty Officer Observer who had managed to survive.

The circumstances of the accident were that the pilot had been waved off at the very last moment but had hesitated between continuing to turn to the left, or rolling right to clear the ship to starboard.

The hesitation cost him his life because having finally decided to roll to the right, there was insufficient room to clear the Island (the bridge superstructuring located at the midship starboard edge of a carrier above the flight deck) and the aircraft hit the funnel, rolling inverted into the sea.

As a result of this accident we were given strict instructions that if waved off, we were to make a decision which way to go and stick to it I should add here that it was normally not a problem because if you were waved off early in the approach you simply rolled off bank and cleared the ship to starboard. If waved off at the last moment you continued the turn to port which gave ample clearance from the Island.

AsI’vementionedinprevioustales, the workup toembarkin the days of straight deck carriers meant many hours flying aerodromedummydeck landings, orADDLSatJervisBay. The drill with ADDLSwas to do ajink to the right after completing the touch and go to clear your slipstream for the next aircraft astern. Here is where the habit pattern formed flying the shore based ADDLScircuit was almost to see my poor old observer having to find himself yet another pilot!

Came the day in question, I was scheduled to do my first ever sortie of deck land practice or DLP on the light fleet carrier HMAS Sydney off Jervis Bay. We flew these sorties solo because it was a bit rough to expectthe observers tohaveto sit in the back while we drivers got back into form.

One of the most difficult aspects of deck landing in the old straight deck days was judging when to turn in from the downwindleg. If youwaiteduntil itlooked rightit was toolate, because the ship was steaming away from you at up to 20kts. The drill was to commence the turn abeam the island which would see you still nicely turning as you approached the after end of the flight deck and with the batsman still in full view. Failure to turn in soon enough would inevitably result in a trailing approach with the batsman disappearing under the nose of the aircraft. This always resulted in a wave off as the batsman could see that you were about to lose him.

It was onjust such an approach that I nearly came to grief. I hadalmostgottothe “cut” point when thebatsman wavedme off and, instinctively, I rolled to the right as for an ADDL. As I reversed the bank, I realised that I had made a mistake, however, beingan obedient ladI stuckwith theturn as briefed.

I cleared the flight deck but was very close to the ship althoughstill short of the Island. Almost immediately, I felt the aircraft starting to settle even though I had a fair amount of power on. My natural reaction was to raise the nose which caused the already low airspeed to decay further. What had happened of course was that being so close to the ship, I had run into the hot gasses from the funnel and suddenly the lift formula was looking a bit thin, in more ways than one!Anyone who experienced a blast of funnel smoke in the days ofthe old steamers will agree with me that it is pretty hot indeed and of course, much lessdensethan the airmass into which it is being ejected.

Fight deck personnel (confirmed by the deck landing fihn) subsequently reported that the aircraft disappeared below flight deck level (44ft/13. 5m) leaving a slipstream trail in the water. Although I hadstarted to add power, Irealised that too much wouldinevitablyresult ina torque stall; tomakemattersworse I already had about 30 degrees of right bank on which was the way the aircraft would roll, if I lost it.

All the while (nano seconds), the Lord above was being invoked to let my miserable soul survive with promises that I would never do it again, andhenceforth would live a sober and righteouslifeifHewouldjustletmegetawaywith thisone. (He must smile each time he hears this promise beingoffered up by some unfortunate pilot who has got himself in a mess!)

Fortunately, throughout the drama my good training was standing by me, causing me instinctively to feed in a large boot full of leftrudder in an attempt to get the wings level before we hitthewater. Tohave usedaileronwouldhavealmostcertainly stalled the starboard wing.

Ever so slowly (it seemed) the wings levelled, and with the gear up and the goodold Griffon going fullchat, we cleared the funnel smoke and the aircraft recovered to safe flight.

Averychastened youngaviator, havingreleased the unusual attachment he had formedwith his seat dinghy pack, returned to shore to reflect on the need to uncage’the brain when deck landing!

What’s the moral of the tale? It’s to beware of forming procedural habit patterns that will trap you if applied in the wrong circumstances.

Finally, perhaps the early aviation pioneers knew a thing or two when they used to test the air with the palm of their hand todetermine whethertherewas enoughlifttoflythatday. Ican assure you that there isn’t much lift in funnel smoke!