Posted: Wed Oct 17, 2007 5:06 amQUOTE
F-18 NIGHT CARRIER EMERGENCY
For all who love those first person..."there I was....."
Following is a first person account I found interesting. If you know any Ex Navy pilots, they may also enjoy it.
Hey, I felt the need to share with you the exciting night I had on the 23rd.It has nothing to do with me wanting to talk about me. 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 many Mai-Tais here). Spotted just forward of the navigation 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 over the track 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 run-up and after waiting the requisite 5-seconds or so to make sure my flight controls are good to go (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. 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 airspeed, which decreases to 140 knots. 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 aeroplane 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 to 140 knots. The next command out of the ether is another one-worder: "Eject!"
I'm still flying so I respond, "Not yet, I've still got it."
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 (Carrier Air Group) was watching and the further I got from the boat, the lower I looked. About 5 miles, I asked tower to please get the helo headed my way as I truly thought I was going to be shelling out. At this 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, "hell with that" and turned them on. I was later told 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 "Fuzz'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 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. Don't intend to land, but don't want to get too far away, either. 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. Meanwhile, 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. So why the hell do I need blower to stay level!?
By this time I'm talking to Fuzz, (CATCC) , Deputy CAG (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. 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 Mackerel! I jam it back into AB and after three or four huge compressor stalls and accompanying deceleration, the right motor comes back.
This next part is great. You know those stories about guys who dead-stick 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 11 o'clock at about two miles and I say on departure freq to no one in particular, "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 minimum blower and my fuel 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! Drat!
I leave it in military and it seems to settle out. Eventually, I 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 "Max," 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 hyper-ventilating. 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."
"Zero-six-three" replies the voice in CATCC. (Another number I remember - go figure).
OK, we're on a four degree glide slope and I'm at 800 feet or so. I intercept glide slope 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?) The PLAT video is most excellent as each series of flash/booms shows up nicely along with the appropriate reflections on the water. "Flats," 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. [note: wave-off lights - a guts-ball decision]
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 climb out 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 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 glide slope in the middle.
No s**t 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 said 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 LOONG FRIGGEN WAYS OUT THERE - if you know what I mean (my hook hit 11 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 my shutdown you could hear a huge cheer across the flight deck. I open the canopy and start putting my gear in my helmet bag and the first guy I see is our Flight Deck Chief, 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. I climb down and people are gather ing 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!
P.S. You're probably wondering what made my motors s**t 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 over the cat track - they forgot to remove a section or two of the cat seal. [flight mishap] 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. During the waveoff, one of the LSO's saw "about thirty feet" of black rubber hanging off the left side of the aeroplane. 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!
P.P.S. By the way, the data showed that I was fat - had 380 pounds of gas when I shut down. Again, remember this number as in ten years I will surely be claiming, FUMES MAN, FUMES I TELL YOU!
Oyster out...[/quote]
380 pounds he would have been swimming if he had of missed that 2nd attempt.
For all who love those first person..."there I was....."
Following is a first person account I found interesting. If you know any Ex Navy pilots, they may also enjoy it.
Hey, I felt the need to share with you the exciting night I had on the 23rd.It has nothing to do with me wanting to talk about me. 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 many Mai-Tais here). Spotted just forward of the navigation 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 over the track 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 run-up and after waiting the requisite 5-seconds or so to make sure my flight controls are good to go (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. 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 airspeed, which decreases to 140 knots. 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 aeroplane 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 to 140 knots. The next command out of the ether is another one-worder: "Eject!"
I'm still flying so I respond, "Not yet, I've still got it."
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 (Carrier Air Group) was watching and the further I got from the boat, the lower I looked. About 5 miles, I asked tower to please get the helo headed my way as I truly thought I was going to be shelling out. At this 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, "hell with that" and turned them on. I was later told 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 "Fuzz'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 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. Don't intend to land, but don't want to get too far away, either. 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. Meanwhile, 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. So why the hell do I need blower to stay level!?
By this time I'm talking to Fuzz, (CATCC) , Deputy CAG (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. 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 Mackerel! I jam it back into AB and after three or four huge compressor stalls and accompanying deceleration, the right motor comes back.
This next part is great. You know those stories about guys who dead-stick 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 11 o'clock at about two miles and I say on departure freq to no one in particular, "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 minimum blower and my fuel 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! Drat!
I leave it in military and it seems to settle out. Eventually, I 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 "Max," 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 hyper-ventilating. 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."
"Zero-six-three" replies the voice in CATCC. (Another number I remember - go figure).
OK, we're on a four degree glide slope and I'm at 800 feet or so. I intercept glide slope 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?) The PLAT video is most excellent as each series of flash/booms shows up nicely along with the appropriate reflections on the water. "Flats," 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. [note: wave-off lights - a guts-ball decision]
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 climb out 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 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 glide slope in the middle.
No s**t 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 said 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 LOONG FRIGGEN WAYS OUT THERE - if you know what I mean (my hook hit 11 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 my shutdown you could hear a huge cheer across the flight deck. I open the canopy and start putting my gear in my helmet bag and the first guy I see is our Flight Deck Chief, 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. I climb down and people are gather ing 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!
P.S. You're probably wondering what made my motors s**t 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 over the cat track - they forgot to remove a section or two of the cat seal. [flight mishap] 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. During the waveoff, one of the LSO's saw "about thirty feet" of black rubber hanging off the left side of the aeroplane. 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!
P.P.S. By the way, the data showed that I was fat - had 380 pounds of gas when I shut down. Again, remember this number as in ten years I will surely be claiming, FUMES MAN, FUMES I TELL YOU!
Oyster out...[/quote]
380 pounds he would have been swimming if he had of missed that 2nd attempt.
Posted: Wed Oct 17, 2007 5:00 pmSure is a cool Hornet story.
380 pounds is fumes alright, we'll give him that.
Nice post SUBS
380 pounds is fumes alright, we'll give him that.
Nice post SUBS
Posted: Thu Oct 18, 2007 8:41 amI'm sure that I would be more impressed if I actually understood more than 20% of the story!! 
Is my (somewhat less dramatic and oversimplified) translation correct:
On take-off, an F-18 sucked up some rubber matting that had been mistakenly left over the steam catapult track when earlier aircraft had been taxiing... the guy then flew around in circles figuring out what to do, before finally making an emergency landing on carrier...
am I close??
Is my (somewhat less dramatic and oversimplified) translation correct:
On take-off, an F-18 sucked up some rubber matting that had been mistakenly left over the steam catapult track when earlier aircraft had been taxiing... the guy then flew around in circles figuring out what to do, before finally making an emergency landing on carrier...
am I close??
Posted: Thu Oct 18, 2007 4:51 pmNah you first have to learn all that CARRIER TALK.
Y'know, CAG, CATCC, LDO, paddles and all that stuff.
then you'll get it.
Otherwise it just sounds too much like a Hoover operation.
Y'know, CAG, CATCC, LDO, paddles and all that stuff.
then you'll get it.
Otherwise it just sounds too much like a Hoover operation.
Posted: Thu Oct 18, 2007 10:40 pmLMAO the bit you missed was that the aircraft kept backfiring when ever he turnned off the afterburner and he had extremely low power even with burner. This is almost as bad as the story about the F-14 that had the throttle jammed in afterburner. 
Posted: Fri Oct 19, 2007 7:33 amCharl wrote:QUOTE (Charl @ Oct 18 2007, 05:51 PM) <{POST_SNAPBACK}>Nah you first have to learn all that CARRIER TALK.
Y'know, CAG, CATCC, LDO, paddles and all that stuff.
then you'll get it.
Otherwise it just sounds too much like a Hoover operation.
Roger Roger... whats your vector Victor?
Posted: Mon Oct 22, 2007 9:39 amQUOTE
Hey FO Community,
One of my Fraturnity brothers, Ray Barnes(Coopertop) he is a driver for the USN F/A-18C. Here is a real story from him on his Hornet mal.
This isn't the type of ordnance I had in mind - F 18 malfunction - Brief Article - Statistical Data Included
Approach, June, 2002 by Ray Barnes
It was our first full fly day since departing the Persian Gulf after supporting Operation Southern Watch. We hadn't seen clouds in weeks, and the temperature finally had dropped into the 80s. I was looking forward to a 4 v X self-escort strike and a day trap. What could go wrong?
The Case II launched proceeded normally, and I climbed to 10,000 feet to get the 2,000 pounds of gas to put me back on ladder. Because of the lower temperature, my Hornet was much more responsive than it had been in the Gulf.
The good visibility let me see the USS Carl Vinson battle group to the east--our relief in the 5th Fleet AOR. I found the S-3 tanker off the nose and began my rendezvous. Everything was going well until Betty broke the silence with, "Bleed air left. Bleed air left," followed by the same for the right. I brought my scan inside, and sure enough, both bleed-air-warning lights were illuminated. I had excess knots, so I brought both throttles to idle, pulled the green apple for emergency oxygen, and secured the bleeds and the OBOGS. With the immediate-action items completed, I told lead of my situation, and I coordinated with tower to recover as soon as possible.
There were no secondary indications of fire and the engine display showed no abnormal readings. After double-checking the procedures in my PCL, I passed aft of the ship and began an easy descent for a recovery, flying under marshal's control.
Since had been airborne for all of five minutes and had a lot of fuel to get rid of, I turned on the dumps and thought about my situation. The lack of OBOGS and throttle boost immediately were obvious, and I realized ECS cooling and external-fuel transfer also would be affected. I began speaking with a squadron rep on the ship (who turned out to be the only guy in the squadron with less flight time than me), and after covering all of the steps again, we agreed a straight-in on this recovery was in order. I descended to angels 1.2 and hooked in at 10 miles.
I pulled up the fuel display to see how the fuel dump was going and saw I had 1,300 pounds of fuel trapped in the centerline-external tank and 1,400 pounds in the right-external tank. Since we can't trap with the centerline tank over one-quarter full, I told my rep I would have to jettison the tank or divert. Unfortunately, we were in the Indian Ocean conducting blue-water ups. The nearest divert was 350 miles away in Oman--not a practical alternative.
After the rep considered how it would look if Rockets 14 and 15 (of 15) to pickle-off a fuel tank, he notified the XO, who got CAG approval. We double-checked all the jettison setting, but nothing happened when I pushed the red button. The station was selected, stores were selected with the select-jett knob, and master arm was on; but SIM, that nemesis of strikefighter pilots ever)where, still was boxed. After deselecting SIM, the fuel tank came off without a problem, and I continued the approach. My usable fuel at max trap would be close to tank state, so I requested a tanker hawk as well.
Standard-operating procedure for the last-day recovery was to set the base-recovery course directly into the sun, and the ship did not disappoint me. I began to break out the ship at two miles and continued down with good bull's-eye. I told paddles my approach would be without throttle boost, and, is I hit start, I was clara lineup, as well. The low sun washed out the landing area. Paddles kept me on centerline, and I dropped the jet in for the OK 2-wire, ending my "good-deal" day flight.
What did I learn from this experience? Dealing with an emergency involves more than just immediate-action item. By securing the bleed air with no divert, and 2,700 pounds trapped in the external tanks, we had some decisions to make. What configurations are recoverable? When is tank jettison necessary? What will the usable fuel state be on the ball at max trap? If a real leak in the bleed-air system is the culprit, time is critical because the hot air could cause a fire.
Postflight inspection showed a weld on the bleed-air ducting had cracked and had begun to burn the insulation surrounding it before the primary, bleed-air-shutoff valves closed. Had we earlier recognized the need to jettison a fuel tank, we also would have delayed the fuel dumping to give us more time.
I also learned that a thorough understanding of aircraft systems pays big dividends when thinking through the consequences of an emergency. Bleed air in an FA-18 is used in many other systems we tend to take for granted. Last, with good communication, even the two most junior guys in a squadron have enough knowledge between them to make responsible decisions and to get an aircraft on deck.[/quote]
Theres a photo of the pilot if you scroll down here.
One of my Fraturnity brothers, Ray Barnes(Coopertop) he is a driver for the USN F/A-18C. Here is a real story from him on his Hornet mal.
This isn't the type of ordnance I had in mind - F 18 malfunction - Brief Article - Statistical Data Included
Approach, June, 2002 by Ray Barnes
It was our first full fly day since departing the Persian Gulf after supporting Operation Southern Watch. We hadn't seen clouds in weeks, and the temperature finally had dropped into the 80s. I was looking forward to a 4 v X self-escort strike and a day trap. What could go wrong?
The Case II launched proceeded normally, and I climbed to 10,000 feet to get the 2,000 pounds of gas to put me back on ladder. Because of the lower temperature, my Hornet was much more responsive than it had been in the Gulf.
The good visibility let me see the USS Carl Vinson battle group to the east--our relief in the 5th Fleet AOR. I found the S-3 tanker off the nose and began my rendezvous. Everything was going well until Betty broke the silence with, "Bleed air left. Bleed air left," followed by the same for the right. I brought my scan inside, and sure enough, both bleed-air-warning lights were illuminated. I had excess knots, so I brought both throttles to idle, pulled the green apple for emergency oxygen, and secured the bleeds and the OBOGS. With the immediate-action items completed, I told lead of my situation, and I coordinated with tower to recover as soon as possible.
There were no secondary indications of fire and the engine display showed no abnormal readings. After double-checking the procedures in my PCL, I passed aft of the ship and began an easy descent for a recovery, flying under marshal's control.
Since had been airborne for all of five minutes and had a lot of fuel to get rid of, I turned on the dumps and thought about my situation. The lack of OBOGS and throttle boost immediately were obvious, and I realized ECS cooling and external-fuel transfer also would be affected. I began speaking with a squadron rep on the ship (who turned out to be the only guy in the squadron with less flight time than me), and after covering all of the steps again, we agreed a straight-in on this recovery was in order. I descended to angels 1.2 and hooked in at 10 miles.
I pulled up the fuel display to see how the fuel dump was going and saw I had 1,300 pounds of fuel trapped in the centerline-external tank and 1,400 pounds in the right-external tank. Since we can't trap with the centerline tank over one-quarter full, I told my rep I would have to jettison the tank or divert. Unfortunately, we were in the Indian Ocean conducting blue-water ups. The nearest divert was 350 miles away in Oman--not a practical alternative.
After the rep considered how it would look if Rockets 14 and 15 (of 15) to pickle-off a fuel tank, he notified the XO, who got CAG approval. We double-checked all the jettison setting, but nothing happened when I pushed the red button. The station was selected, stores were selected with the select-jett knob, and master arm was on; but SIM, that nemesis of strikefighter pilots ever)where, still was boxed. After deselecting SIM, the fuel tank came off without a problem, and I continued the approach. My usable fuel at max trap would be close to tank state, so I requested a tanker hawk as well.
Standard-operating procedure for the last-day recovery was to set the base-recovery course directly into the sun, and the ship did not disappoint me. I began to break out the ship at two miles and continued down with good bull's-eye. I told paddles my approach would be without throttle boost, and, is I hit start, I was clara lineup, as well. The low sun washed out the landing area. Paddles kept me on centerline, and I dropped the jet in for the OK 2-wire, ending my "good-deal" day flight.
What did I learn from this experience? Dealing with an emergency involves more than just immediate-action item. By securing the bleed air with no divert, and 2,700 pounds trapped in the external tanks, we had some decisions to make. What configurations are recoverable? When is tank jettison necessary? What will the usable fuel state be on the ball at max trap? If a real leak in the bleed-air system is the culprit, time is critical because the hot air could cause a fire.
Postflight inspection showed a weld on the bleed-air ducting had cracked and had begun to burn the insulation surrounding it before the primary, bleed-air-shutoff valves closed. Had we earlier recognized the need to jettison a fuel tank, we also would have delayed the fuel dumping to give us more time.
I also learned that a thorough understanding of aircraft systems pays big dividends when thinking through the consequences of an emergency. Bleed air in an FA-18 is used in many other systems we tend to take for granted. Last, with good communication, even the two most junior guys in a squadron have enough knowledge between them to make responsible decisions and to get an aircraft on deck.[/quote]
Theres a photo of the pilot if you scroll down here.