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Aviation History
1957
1957 - 1653.PDF
FLIGHT, 8 November 1957 741 CARRIER WORK-UP A Landsman's Reactions to an Unfamiliar Environment "The cartridge starters of the Hawks spurt grey smoke in split-second unison." These are the aircraft of 806 Sqn. FROM the rearmost seat of the Gannet, where one perforcesat rearward-facing, four others of No. 814 Sqn. couldbe seen waddling, ungraceful as ducks ashore, around the perimeter track of hospitable R.N. Air Station Culdrose. Asalways, their contraprops looked absurdly small, like tiny spinning windmills pinned on the noses of toyshop aeroplanes. Up and out in a series of steepish turns through the low cloudand mist sweeping over Cornwall's Helford River and (look at your map if don't believe it) Goonhilly Downs. Up and outinto glowing October sunshine, the other Gannets closing into formation with us. And now the ugly ducklings are transformedinto aeroplanes: if lacking the grace of a Sea Hawk, they at least have the "right" look of any piece of machinery designed to doa particular job efficiently. One of them is displaying a Gannet characteristic—the occasional emission from the jet-pipe of asmall round puff of black smoke (carbon, some people aver). Ninety-odd nautical miles of foam-flecked English Channelcrawl beneath, then we let down into a circuit; and suddenly there she is, all 46,000 tons and 803 feet of her, the fleet carrierH.M.S. Eagle,, ironing out a three-mile long ribbon in the crinkled green. A succession of improbably small aeroplanes, just identifi-able as Sea Hawks and Sea Venoms, are coming home to roost on her decks, and hovering off her port quarter as steadily as thoughsupported on an invisible wire is the attendant Whirlwind helicopter on planeguard duty. Two or three minutes in the circuit and it is the Gannets'turn. Eagle's wake, all one can see from this tail-end disadvantage- point, grows closer and wider beneath, looking like boiling ginger-beer. Then crump, immediately followed by the firm comforting embrace of an arrester-wire. A second's pause to clear the hook,and a smart taxying forward, to park behind the close-packed Hawks and Venoms, with the Gannet's wings simultaneously fold-ing overhead like the arms of a Siamese temple-dancer. The Double Mamba's whine trails into silence, and one clambers downamong the huddled aircraft. It is not until you begin to walk away from them that you become aware that the green-paintedground beneath your feet has a just perceptible rising and falling motion. It must therefore, you assume, be the deck of a ship. Onehas indeed arrived, albeit backwards, in a strange new world. * * * Exactly how strange becomes apparent the moment one leavesthe flight deck, and a friendly welcome does not altogether dispel the feeling of bewilderment. Designed like her sister ship ArkRoyal to be virtually unsinkable, Eagle is a honeycomb of steel. Ladders (not ladders in the landsman's context, but narrow-treaded staircases at the near vertical) emerge on to decks via high coamings, over which one unsuspectingly prepares to clamber,only to receive a stunning crack from the deck-head above. Every alley-way is an obstacle-race of high sills and watertight doors.On the white-painted bulkheads are fascinating notices: R.M. PART OF SHIP; DANGER AREA, NO SMOKING; KEY-BOARD FLAT; OFFICERS' HEADS. [The two last refer not to pianos and commissioned craniums, but to (a) the area in whichhundreds of keys to this and that are kept under armed guard IE glass-fronted cabinets and (b) the Navy's time-honoured termfor lavatory accommodation.] And up and down and across and through this steel warren>s a ceaseless coming and going. Everybody is in a hurry, and nobody, with the possible exception of non-flying officers and anoccasional petty officer, looks like the normal conception of a sailor. A young man in a dark blue open-necked shirt and bluejeans; another in the coloured helmet and windproof overalls of t"C flight-deck personnel; a pilot in his immersion suit; a smartly "Flight" photograph IN this account an ordinarily non-flying member of our staff recordshis impressions of a three-day visit paid last week to the fleet carrier H.M.S. "Eagle." The original intention was that the article shoulddescribe an exercise by "Eagle" in company with "Ark Royal," "Bulwark" and certain units of the Royal Netherlands Navy; but atthe last moment "Eagle" was detached from the force in order to carry out an independent work-up with her squadrons. No attempt is madehere to describe in detail the operational set-up of carrier flying; readers in search of such information are referred to the feature articlespublished in our Naval Aviation special number of March 22 this year, wherein another staff member described a week in "Ark Royal." uniformed Royal Marine officer; an engineer officer in whiteoveralls; a flour-dusted figure from the ship's bakery. For bell- bottomed trousers ypu will look in vain. But all this is, so to speak, the wings of the stage. Froma gallery seat—the little platform above the flying-control bridge, where a ship's photographer stands to record every single land-ing—you may watch the daily (and often nightly) non-stop drama of action, colour and sound. The backcloth, which may change startlingly at the whim of theweather gods, is at this moment a clear cold blue above silver- green waves from which a near-gale is tearing die tops in smokingwhite spume. The stage is die flight-deck, and ranged along its port side aft are four Sea Hawks wearing the ace of diamondsinsignia of No. 806 Sqn'., two others bearing the wasp motif of No. 803, and beyond them four Sea Venoms of No. 894, distin-guished by a fish-tailed Pegasus. Right aft, near the round-down, are two Skyraiders (No. 849) and two Gannets (No. 814). Alsoembarked in Eagle are No. 813 with their Wyverns, but they are not taking part in this particular launch. "The chopper"—one of the two Whirlwinds forming "A" Flightof No. 701 Sqn.—takes off and swings over to its station on the port beam about a hundred yards distant and slighdy aboveflight-deck level. The deck is now nearing the peak of its activity, a peak reached every 65 minutes as each new recovery and launch-ing cycle comes round. In coloured helmets or jerkins signifying their duties, the men of the deck parties act with quick precisemovements, some at the double, some at a brisk walk; others may be lying at full length in readiness to pull away chocks; only afew, such as the red-helmeted or asbestos-suited fire fighters and the medical personnel in their red-crossed jerkins, are likely to bestanding still. Speed and economy of action are paramount; not a single step is taken in any unnnecessary direction, and neverdoes one see a step retraced in doubt (one false move, perhaps into line with a jet-pipe, can spell injury—or worse). The onlything that ever seems to slow up movement is the wind, against which men sometimes have to struggle as though wading throughmud. Seated on a revolving stool in "Flyco," his control positionjutting out from the island, the Lieutenant Commander (Flying) passes orders to the flight deck by red, amber and green trafficlights or by telephone, and occasionally he will slide back his window and make a flag or hand signal. His orders are passed onby the Flight Deck Officers and by the Pilots' Mates standing by each aircraft. Now the start-up signal is given, and the cartridgestarters of the Hawks spurt grey smoke in split-second unison. The first two are waved forward to the catapults by the yellow-helmeted aircraft directors. Straight and fast each is taxied into position, and before it has stopped rolling a man leaps on to thewing root to make a final check of the fuel fillers on top of the fuselage, then slides nimbly clear of the jet-pipe. Unlike her sister-ship Ark Royal, Eagle has yet to be equippedwith steam catapults, hers are of the type operated by a com-
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