Established now on downwind now the timeline seems to accelerate, and the wingman races to complete his landing checklist, dial his radar altimeter warning bug down to 400 feet (the LSO warning: “Never go below 400 feet without a ball” flits in his head). His abeam distance is 1.3 nm – a little tight – and he drops the right wing for a moment to build some separation before reversing back to the left to start his descending approach turn as the carrier’s fantail goes by, this time in the opposite direction.
The velocity vector on his HUD resembles a simplified aircraft symbol, and provides almost all his initial angle of bank and rate of descent data – it’s driven by dampened inputs from his laser ring gyro inertial navigation system, and so provides near instantaneous performance feedback. A bit of throttle off at the 180-degree position, a little bit of forward stick pressure to maintain on speed angle of attack and 30 degrees angle of bank – he was a little tight on the abeam distance.
Initial rate of descent is about 200-300 foot per minute, and he’ll look to increase that to around -500 FPM at the 90-degree position. At the 90, he hopes to be at 500 feet or so above the sea, using the precise information provided by his RADALT, or radar altimeter. Once he starts the approach turn from the 180 to the 90, he’s going to be on the gauges all the way. First “peek” outside is at the 90.
Ugh. The visual picture is that he’s high and tight – too close to the ship, well above glideslope. But he flicks the panic wave away with the half-formed thought that it always looks that way at the ship – she’s sailing away from him at nearly thirty knots and he’s still being blown downwind. Too, the landing area is offset eleven degrees to port from the ship’s longitudinal axis – he has a bit more time to turn than is intuitively apparent. Still, it’s hard to overcome the desire to really wrap the jet up and dump the nose. It takes discipline. He has discipline.
Back on the gauges. Approaching the 45 position, he should be somewhere between 375 and 425 feet on the RADALT. Another peek outside – yes, there’s the yellow meatball, cresting slightly above the horizontal green array of the reference datum – a little above glideslope. “Altitude, altitude,” and it’s the female voice warning system, “Bitchin’ Betty,” but it’s OK, he has a ball and can continue the descent.
Not a bad place to be. 325 crossing the wake. Perfect.
Rules to live by:
1) Never lead a low or a slow.
2) If you’re low and slow, add power and maintain attitude until the ball is in the center, then accel to on-speed.
3) Always lead a high or a fast.
4) If you’re high and fast, decel to on-speed and then work the ball down to the center.
5) Fly the ball to touchdown. Don’t give up.
Fifteen seconds. Rolling out with the left edge of the ship’s churning wake under his left armpit, and the meatball in the center, he sets the velocity vector at three degrees nose low, should get us to -700FPM or so, checks AOA and line-up.
13 seconds. A little fast out of the turn, lined up a little left. A little throttle off, a little right wing down, don’t overshoot. Lead the power back on, rate of descent increases with angle of bank, don’t want to go low. Don’t want to get slow.
10 seconds. Lineup is walking away to the right, yes, she’s making her own winds, that’s what happens, going a little high too, cross check the rate of descent, a little right wing down to catch it, a little power off. Flicker slow, a little nose down to get on speed. Ugh! Not too much, need power add a little…
“A little power,” on the UHF and that’s the LSO calling, and there goes my OK pass he thinks with seven seconds to go, and he has to add more than he’d like because you don’t get to not respond to the LSO and now he’s a full ball high and going flat, so it’s power back off and maybe a little forward stick, just a little to get her started down to maybe, what? -800 FPM? More?
Still a little high but getting closer to glideslope and now he remembers again: She’s making her own wind – there will be a sizeable burble at the fantail.
In the moment of flying that abbreviation stands in for a detailed academic understanding of an aerodynamic phenomenon known as “the burble.” This phenomenon is caused by a turbulent pocket of air washing around the ship’s island structure, flowing aft and over the fantail. When a ship is operating at sea with high natural winds the effect is negligible since the natural breeze goes right down the unencumbered angle deck, but when the carrier has to generate her own winds, the effect is to bring the wind over the deck from slightly to starboard of the landing area, washing over the island structure. This turbulent air eventually intersects with the glideslope very close to touchdown, and can cause the unprepared aviator to settle rapidly below glideslope, risking an early wire, a wave-off, or worse.
None of that will fit in the pilot’s head at this moment, however. At an almost instinctive level, he merely abbreviates it to, “Watch out for the burble,” which will equate to, “Be prepared to add power. Lot’s of it.”
Four seconds. Still a little high, but not daring to pull too much power off because of the burble, can’t be underpowered when that hits, where is it? Still high and…
“Right for lineup,” and damn! he got distracted and drifted left, and now he’s got to do the automatic response to the LSO call, the right wing down and whoops! There goes the burble and…
“POWER!” yes, yes I know and how’s that for power? and WHAM! And he’s on deck, that warm and familiar feeling of a car crash, the arresting gear cable paying out behind and the jet bucking and kicking like a bronco at the county fair as all her kinetic energy and momentum is transferred to the trembling wire screeching out of the hydraulically dampened cylinders below the flight deck until finally it all comes to a kind of shuddering balance, the wire all paid out and the jet still screaming at full power and finally he can ease the throttles back, back to ground idle now and where’s the yellowshirt? Where’s the taxi director?
Ah, no, he’s all the way up there at the 12:30 position, which means he almost certainly caught the one wire, the ace and that’s a no-grade every time in the daytime, and never mind his first taste of combat what was what, twenty years ago? Or only a couple of hours it feels more like the former than the latter. Hook up, yes, yes, and fold the wings: NO. Wait on the wings, they have to safe the Sidewinders, but he can unlock them and flaps to a half should be fine and nosewheel steering to high gain, a hard turn and power up to clear the landing area there’s more coming in behind us, quick-quick and now STOP! Abruptly, clear of the foul lines, the squadron flight deck chief jumping up and down and trying to get his attention and what does he want? Oh yes, he wants to know the aircraft status and it’s an up jet so here’s a thumbs up, and meanwhile the ordies are swarming around, and it’s HANDS OUT of the cockpit, up where everyone can see them while they safe the ordnance. FOLD WINGS and there’s the scream of a jet behind him, trapped in the wires and looking up there’s two more overhead in the break, and he’s passed back to the director who clears him up to the bow. COME FORWARD slowly now, breathing coming back to normal, he taxis with all due deliberation up between the closely packed fighters parked on the bow catapults, and soon he’s passed to the final director, all the way up on the point of the bow, legs spread around the cat track on cat 1, leaning back into the breeze, almost out over the edge with nothing between him and the devil but the deep blue sea. Now STOP! And HOLD RIGHT BRAKE and COME FORWARD, and he’s turning towards the cat track, now the nose of his fighter is out over the sea, and it’s lonely out there and frankly a little scary, if a brake should fail just now it would all be over in a moment’s time, the going over the side, and cart wheeling just that little bit and he’d never have time to get out and hardly have time to be afraid if it actually happened, so he likes to practice for it when he can.
Now the nose is safely past the farthest point, he’s back over the flight deck, the breeze actually helping him to turn the fighter back towards the fantail, now down the track and taxiing aft and close as ever he might fit to the deck edge on his left and the last parked FA-18, his lead, still in the cockpit after all it’s only been 45 seconds or so between their landings. One more hard turn and STOP! LEFT ENGINE OFF! Left throttle off and a series of warning tones, L GEN, L BOOST LO, and that’s all normal as is the throng of extravagantly perspiring flight deck crewmen swarming around his jet OFF BRAKES to push it back to the very deck edge and STOP! And now the plane captain runs beneath and straps tie-down chains to padeyes on the flight deck, to hard points on the jet with the yellowshirt standing there, sweating impatiently.
At last the deed is done, the jet tied down and the yellowhshirt passes control to the plane captain, running back to the top of the bow to help park the next fighter in line, coming up the bow.
Ultimately the plane captain consults with flight deck chief, who in turn consults with flight deck control via the radio headset on his cranial protector and at last the signal is given to shut down the starboard engine, the mission is complete. The pilot breathes a sigh of relief and pulls the right throttle off, makes sure there’s no loose gear around the glareshield before he opens the canopy, finds the switch under the rail to raise and OH MY GOD IT’S HOT OUT THERE!
Lex, your ability to put a reader inside the cockpit may be without peer.
You know that commercial–”No, but I slept at a Holiday Inn Express last night?” Someday I’m going to be talking naval aviation with somebody and they’ll ask, “Are you a pilot?” I’ll have to reply, “No, but I read Rhythms last night.”
A couple of questions for you.
1)Why do you guys make your turns so close to landing? It seems like there is all kinds of space out there, why don’t you line up with ship 60 seconds before landing? I would imagine that this is hard enough going in a straight line, why make it more complex?
2) how hard is it to “drive” the jet once you have landed? I figure that the adrenaline is pumping (probably why you show your hands while they safe the weapons) and fine motor skills are hard to come by as far as steering goes?
thanks again for a great story
Beth’s right. The incredibly vivid descriptive language, and the details of the thought processes just put me straight into the cockpit!
*Applause*
Keep up the great writing, Lex … Love it!
Lex, I’m reading Super Carrier, by WaPo correspondent George Wilson. He describes F-14 flight and carrier landings from the seven months he spent aboard the Kennedy. Not being an aviator himself, his book manages nowhere near the reality that you do. That he is published and you aren’t illustrates the weak tea served up by those who talk as opposed to those who know.
I still say we should collect all of the extant segments, put them in a book form and send them to a Literary Agent. The Captain needs to think of retirement and putting the rest of the family through college.
Senior D, We just need somebody who knows their way around the publishing world.
Capt. Lex, I’ve often wondered the same thing as Scott above. Why not turn out ten miles and spend a couple minutes getting it lined up? You could still have the same separation, just longer final for each jet. I’m sure there’s a good reason for the system in place, just curious.
A landing broken down in milliseconds. Well done!
Can’t resist Lex. Good questions.-
re- “1)Why do you guys make your turns so close to landing? It seems like there is all kinds of space out there, why don?ɬ
A landing broken down in milliseconds. Well done!
Can’t resist Lex. Good questions.-
re- “1)Why do you guys make your turns so close to landing? It seems like there is all kinds of space out there, why don’t you line up with ship 60 seconds before landing? I would imagine that this is hard enough going in a straight line, why make it more complex?
- Study the battle of Midway. Fastest way to lauch and recover aircraft AND spend least amount of time heading into the wind. Think about the predictability to threats- surface, subsurface, air. Also, physical dimensions of the opares. Measure the Gulf shore to shore.
BTW- some guys do spend 60 seconds in the groove and get a lousy landing grade for it! Bad form.
re- “2) how hard is it to “drive” the jet once you have landed? I figure that the adrenaline is pumping (probably why you show your hands while they safe the weapons) and fine motor skills are hard to come by as far as steering goes?”
-Steering is done with the rudder pedals like a kids go cart! On deck, the top the rudder pedals become brakes and bottom part steering. Simple, and even easier than driving a car or even a tractor. Modern carrier aircraft use a nosewheel steering system (hudraulically operated). In the old days (well before my time) they used differential braking
B2
More outstanding writing. I’m looking forward to getting this whole series and more in book form someday. Question – what does “lead” mean, as in “never lead a low or a slow, and always lead a high or fast”, and why is this axiom the way it is ? I need to know for my next carrier landing
Glad you liked it Gary and everyone else kind enough to drop a note (and thanks B2 for filling in on the technical side, it’s been busy, hereabouts): No performance correction is ever perfect – if you were low, you’d add sufficient power to get you back up on glideslope – that power would also inevitably fly you up through glideslope, so you have to re-correct: power off. The power off sufficient to slow your rate of ascent would be enough to send you low again, so you have to counter-re-correct. The perfect power correction will always come in increments of three increasingly small throttle adjustments: Big, smaller, smallest.
In the context of flying aboard ship, to “lead” is to re-correct before the previous correction is complete. In other words, if a pilot was correcting for a low ball he would have already added power and maybe adjusted the nose attitude to get back up on glideslope. If he waits until the ball is back in the center to recorrect, he will fly up through the glideslope, resulting in being high. Which is exactly how we are taught, since “leading” the low means that he would have made his power off and nose down recorrection before the jet was back on glideslope. If executed perfectly, he would stabilize back on glideslope. Unfortunately, if you could execute perfectly then you would never, ever be low. Being low comes with it the obligation to get high before you can re-correct, because low is much more dangerous than high.
If you’re high or fast, you can afford to work it down gradually, because what you don’t want to do is fly through down, for reasons which must now be obvious…
Thanks for the butt scrunchies, Lex. Nicely done as usual.
I’d like to add one more item for perspective to the answer on groove length.
The average approach speed minus wind results in about a 2 mile per minute closure. That means 30 seconds is 1 mile and 15 seconds is a half mile. (Your results may vary by aircraft.)
The Fresnel lense system is a visual glideslope indicator that is really a vertical stack of wedge shaped light beams. Only one wedge is visible at a time and the goal is to see the light from the center wedge lined up the the green datum lights on each side.
On landing, the wedge is only a couple of feet thick, which puts you in a very precise spot in the landing area. Out at 3/4 of a mile the wedge is huge, which is why the rate of decent is checked to see if you are heading towards the top or bottom of that wedge.
By the way, the lense is set for each type of aircraft to compensate for the vertical distance between the pilot’s eye and the aircraft hook.
Straight in approaches are used at night or in instrument conditions and the aircraft is established in line up and rate of descent while on instruments until 3/4 of a mile or less and that’s the time the pilot transitions to the ball. Beyond that the visual information is useless.
thanks badbob, this makes a lot of sense
“Study the battle of Midway. Fastest way to lauch and recover aircraft AND spend least amount of time heading into the wind. Think about the predictability to threats- surface, subsurface, air. “
I said- “Study the battle of Midway. Fastest way to lauch and recover aircraft AND spend least amount of time heading into the wind. Think about the predictability to threats- surface, subsurface, air. ”
Sorry. It is horribly written ain’t it? Let me try again.
The day CASE 1 (VFR) left hand pattern is the fastest way to recover aircraft in the minimum space, therefore reducing the CV(N)’s vulnerability to the enemy.
The Battle of Midway (a Blue water engagement) illustrates this simply. Sometimes the wind is going away from the fight. In today’s ops the littoral areas have geographical constraints along with international airspace restrictions and other internal/external restrictions. Time not spent running into the wind or creating wind, also saves $$$ and that is another factor
All turns are to the left and the pattern is oriented on the left side of the ship. We follow one set of procedures and no voice comms or radar direction, all because you ‘trust’ those in front and those behind in the recovery to know the rules and be predictable in their “movements”. Conducting a simultaneous, turning and descending approach turn to the checkpoints Lex mentions requires a high degree of airmanship and practice. All in all, one big display of teamwork and professionalism.
One day Lex will tell us about carrier ops at night. At night you get a longer straight-in, but there isn’t much to see!
B2
Sorry to be a neophyte but this is really interesting. Do Student Naval Aviators use the same pattern the first time they go out to the ship? Just wondering if they cut them a break or make them start early learning the close in left hand pattern.
The learn the same pattern, but the airplanes are a bit easier to fly than front line fighters, and pattern deviations graded a bit more easily. Students are taught: “Be smooth. If you can’t be smooth, be high.”
The same pattern is used the first time at the ship and a very similar pattern is used, modified for field elevation, at the field once you are in jets. You can never get enough practice.
During the day it can be a lot of fun, if you are doing well. It’s like a giant video game with motion and loud noises.
Googled. It’s all right here:
http://navyair.com/CV_NATOPS_Manual.pdf
Don’t know if it’s the latest/greatest but looks real.
Now y’all can “what if” Skipper Lex!
B2
*See’s link to CV NATOPS. Listens in alarm to the sound of heads striking keyboards across the country*
**loud snoring, too**
badbob said
I said- “Study the battle of Midway. Fastest way to lauch and recover aircraft AND spend least amount of time heading into the wind. Think about the predictability to threats- surface, subsurface, air. ”
Sorry. It is horribly written ain’t it? Let me try again.
Nope, I understood you just fine. Thanks for the additional details. I figured there was a good reason for landings happenings the way they do, I just could not figure it out on my own.
The manual looks pretty dense
I think that I will pass 
badbob said
I said- “Study the battle of Midway. Fastest way to lauch and recover aircraft AND spend least amount of time heading into the wind. Think about the predictability to threats- surface, subsurface, air. ”
Sorry. It is horribly written ain’t it? Let me try again.
Nope, I understood you just fine. Thanks for the additional details. I figured there was a good reason for landings happenings the way they do, I just could not figure it out on my own.
The manual looks pretty dense
I think that I will pass 
[...] (Previously) [...]
[...] When this comes around, then Neptunus Lex will know we really get what he’s writing about in this serial web novel “Rhythms.” Part XXXV, the most recent entry is here (in case you haven’t been enjoying this fine work of digital literature). [...]
That really is incredible writing Lex. Every jmo, and every non-aviator type officer should read this. I always knew, that there was no more demanding job in any branch, than bringing a high performance aircraft aboard a pitching deck, but your journey through the entire mission is splendid, and really brings respect to the trade of airplane driving. Heretofore, they were always those jackasses in flight suits at the O’club, who got flight pay.
Glad you liked it, Casca