Florida Times-Union (Jacksonville)
February 1, 2000

Cat Shots & Traps

Pilots putting aircraft carrier training to test

By Matthew I. Pinzur, Times-Union staff writer

They watched and they studied and they learned it for months: how to fly a military jet at 150 mph while precisely aligning with a narrow runway that rolls and sways on the ocean until a dangling hook catches an inch-thick wire and jerks the jet to a standstill in an instant.

Yesterday, for the first time, they had to do it.

"It was scary to think I had to land an aircraft on this tiny speck in the middle of the ocean," said Navy Lt. j.g. Erik Odom, one of 50 pilot trainees in Jacksonville to complete the most feared, most trying and most difficult of exams -- the qualification to land a jet on an aircraft carrier.

Because carriers are far shorter than normal runways, landings on the floating air bases are treacherous, described by aviators as "controlled crashes."

And without nearly enough space to accelerate to takeoff speed, jets leaving the carrier are yanked forward by machines called catapults, reaching speeds of more than 155 mph in 265 feet. Without enough speed, the plane would crash into the ocean.

The techniques -- which are more stressful and anxious for pilots than bombing runs or dogfights -- are seminal to Navy aviation, and the trainees from squadrons in Meridian, Miss., and Kingsville, Texas, were in Jacksonville to master them.

The pilots launched from Jacksonville Naval Air Station and flew to the aircraft carrier USS George Washington, floating about 100 miles offshore.

By today, each will have completed at least 10 carrier landings -- called traps -- and 10 takeoffs, called "cat shots." Many will have hundreds more during their careers, but they said none will compare to the first.

"My instincts had taken over, and it was almost euphoric," said Marine Corps 1st Lt. Nate Brown, 27.

They rely upon training that has been drilled into their heads for nearly two years -- how to line up with the ship, align themselves to land and catch one of the four wires stretched across the flight deck.

"All I could think was, 'Meatball, lineup, angle of attack, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,' " said Marine Corps 1st Lt. Jamie Browning, referring to the three checklist items pilots focus on in the moments before landing.

The young pilots' tethers to the carrier -- and to safety -- are the landing signal officers. Known in the Navy as LSOs, they are experienced aviators who guide the jets in to landing, and their clipped commands over the radio are, to the pilots, voices from heaven.

"The LSO my first day had the most calm and tender voice," said Navy Lt. j.g. Pete Holton, 26. "He was like your dad, and when he raised his voice it had the same impact as when my dad did."

Even decades later, the relationship between a pilot and the first LSO is a powerful one.

"That face and that voice are still in my mind," said retired Navy Capt. Lonny McClung, president of the Tailhook Association, a military-affiliated civilian group of active and retired carrier pilots. "I would recognize that voice on the phone to this day."

The pilots are so focused on making minuscule adjustments based on the flood of information from the plane's instrument panel and the commands coming from the LSO, that the already jarring shock of landing is magnified to seismic proportions.

"I touched down and the whole world changed," Odom said. "Everything is thrown to a stop, you're almost thrown out of your seat, but your brain is still miles behind you."

Even the endless stream of lessons, reams of study material and hours on computer simulators did not fully prepare them.

"Simulators are basically multimillion-dollar video games," Odom said. "You can prepare your basic, monkey motor skills, but nothing can prepare you for the physical sensation."

No sensation in the world, they said, compares with the raw animal emotion they felt during their first carrier takeoff.

The seconds before that shot -- the handful of heartbeats after the final salute to the sailor who operates the catapult -- are like the moments before a first kiss: too intense to describe and too brief to appreciate.

"You're just waiting, waiting and then, boom, you're in motion," Odom said. "I was screaming like a banshee."

For many of the trainees, the carrier qualifications are the last major step before earning their gold pilot's wings. It adds extra pressure to the tests, but extra pride in the accomplishment.

"You meet them as young guys just learning to fly an airplane," said Cmdr. Ed Wolfe, commander of Training Squadron 9 and officer in charge of the training squadrons visiting Jacksonville. "You follow them through to this point where they've mastered it."

Many of the pilots will eventually command squadrons, supervise missions and hold high authority in the military. But for most, carrier aviation remains their greatest success and greatest joy.

"People say that horse racing is the sport of kings," said McClung, who landed more than 1,100 times on aircraft carriers. "But if I were a king, I would have my very own jet and my own aircraft carrier and go land on it somewhere every day."