Of Ships and Sailors

Cold Cat Shots: Satchell Paige said it best: Some you win, some you lose, some get rained out, but you have to suit up for them all. The catapults of an aircraft carrier are complex mechanical devices, and require careful maintenance and monitoring, under the careful eye of the ABEs (Aviation Bosun Mates Equipment). Sometimes the catapults are set wrong, or the aircraft weight is wrong or many other errors are made. The aircraft does not get enough speed, and the airplane crashes into the water in just front of the ship. This is referred to as a “Cold Cat Shot”, which is a very bad thing since the outcome is likely fatal to the aircrews. We were in the Gulf of Mexico doing training command support. As senior medical officer, I had to collect flight time for my flight pay. With CAPT Jamison’s permission I would collect my flight time in an H-3 in the starboard delta pattern. From there, I could be returned to the ship quickly if needed. The H-3 was the designated airborne rescue asset and aloft during flight operations. We were doing initial carrier qualification for the pilots in the basic jet phase, with the T-2 Buckeye. A Buckeye with two pilots was put in the catapult and launched but did not get enough speed to continue to fly, thus crashing into the water in front of the aircraft carrier. One pilot ejected successfully, the other did not. I could sleep in the back of an H-3 in the starboard delta, since I was always tired on the ship. However, I was awoken by the H-3 crewmember as they preceded to the location to rescue the pilot a couple of minutes away. The helo pilot hovered over the pilot. The helo crewman dropped the rescue collar, hoisted himself down, got the T-2 pilot strapped in, and brought him up with the hoist, with the assistance of the crew chief. The Helicopter Aircraft Commander (HAC) asked for a medical status check, so I did a quick medical assessment by groping the male pilot from boots to neck, in the fashion of the ATLS protocol. This was followed by eyeball-to-eyeball contact and an “iffy thumbs up” from me, to which he responded with definite positive thumbs up. This was to signify he was okay and this information was conveyed to the H-3 crew chief and then to the HAC. We returned to FORRESTAL which was close by. The rescued pilot was placed in a Stokes litter on the flight deck to be transported down in medical for further evaluation required after aircraft mishaps. The medical people waiting on the flight deck asked about the other pilot, to which I replied that he did not make it. The medical people were visibility shaken by that response. The whole crew was very somber on that evening. They became aware of how fast really bad outcomes can happen on an aircraft career, even if we were sailing in the bright sunlight in the Gulf of Mexico only 60 miles off Pensacola. Flight operations were shut down and we returned to Pensacola, where the training aircraft onboard were put ashore with the B&A (boat and aircraft) crane. I believe it was determined that some defect during work on the catapult 18 months earlier had finally evident, and thus the cold catapult shot. The Navy diving people recovered the aircraft and the other pilot was still in the ejection seat. The second ejection seat on the T-2 had a delay to allow the first pilot to be clear of the trajectory of the second, and that delay was enough that the ejection seat process for the second pilot was unable to start. Safety and survival in Naval Aviation can be a matter of milliseconds and centimeters. In retrospect in my Navy career, I can remember several incidents that were “cold cat shot” of life experiences. Regardless of what you think you may be able to control or at least influence, sometimes you are just riding down the rails with no hope of reaching a flying speed. You may not be aware of that happening until it is far too late and it is not a good feeling when you finally see the outcome in front of you.