Uh-Oh on Iwo - military air pilot encounters weather problems - Brief Article

Approach, Dec, 2000 by Bill Doster

The island looked like a scene from King Kong, enshrouded in fog with the exception of the very top of Mount Suribachi.

Fresh from the Prowler FRS on my first FCLP det in CAG 5, I was primed to prove that I was ready for the fleet. For noise abatement, the air wing conducts FCLPs on the island of Iwo Jima, which is 700 miles southeast of NAF Atsugi. The distance, combined with the lighter fuel load that is required, make bouncing on Iwo Jima a blue-water-ops event. If the runway gets shut down for any reason and you can't land on the arresting-gear-equipped taxiway, your only option is a swim in shark-infested waters.

I'd flown two day periods and had just finished briefing tot the last of my four night periods. I was paired up with an experienced ECMO in the right seat, who was two years into a second fleet tour after transitioning from the Intruder. The weather hadn't been cooperating. Fog banks would form up just off shore and slowly roll in to shut down the field with zero-zero visibility by 2230 or so. We briefed the likely possibility of not finishing because of weather, then we bounced this idea off Ops. Because it was our last night on Iwo, we were feeling some pressure to get the "X." Ops and CAG paddles both assured us that getting everyone completed wouldn't be a problem, even if it meant flying a few periods back in Atsugi. If the weather started to repeat what it had produced the previous two nights, we'd call it quits and park the jet.

You wouldn't be reading this article if that had happened. We dressed up, read the book and hopped on the bus for a ride across the field to the fuel pits. The night was crystal clear with no moon. It would be a great night to work on instrument flying in preparation for CQ.

As I stood next to the jet with the off-going pilot, he told me that the outside of the canopy kept frosting over on deck but cleared right up once airborne. I thanked him, climbed into the jet and got set to go. The canopy was togged over, so the taxi to the hold short was difficult. We called for takeoff. Our visibility out of the cockpit was zero to the sides and very limited forward, so as we sat in the hold short, we couldn't see that a fog bank had just started to form and roll in. The next two pilots calling "clara" at the ball call told us all we needed to know, though, and we discussed knocking it off for the night. It was up to me.

Paddles talked the second jet down to about a quarter-mile, and tower cleared us for takeoff. I decided to press. As I hustled into position, we were then told our takeoff clearance had been canceled and to expedite clearing the runway. I did as told and got spun around in the hold short, while ECCMO 1 got on the radio with tower to see what the problem was.

Paddles had been monitoring the weather from the LSO shack and didn't want to see us launch into deteriorating weather. He had told tower to cancel our takeoff clearance. We were more concerned about getting airborne before the weather became too bad to fly. My blinders were on, and I started pushing to get airborne. The next guy on approach broke out just before the ball call. Our calls to tower at last got answered with a clearance to takeoff, and we headed back out onto the runway.

The takeoff was uneventful. As the wheels went in the well, the canopy cleared,and I felt confident we would complete the period after all. We went into the overcast at about 400 feet but broke out as soon as we went feet wet. The island looked like a scene from King Kong, enshrouded in fog with the exception of the very top of Mount Suribachi.

The first approach was our last chance to do the smart thing and get on deck. We could clearly see that the weather had taken over the island and showed no signs of improving. But we didn't even discuss making a full stop. We completed our first approach to a touch-and-go after breaking out at a half-mile.

Paddles made the right call, "Ninety-nine, full stop next pass," to the four planes in pattern. The two S-3s in front of us got on deck with some sugar calls from paddles. We were anxious to follow suit and end what was becoming a debacle. The weather was getting worse, although we didn't know that yet.

The field's only approved precision approach is a PAR, but for FCLPs, the air wing has a portable ILS system that provides "needles" to fly until the ball call. It took two approaches, some heated words of guidance to approach, and the LSO's asking us to turn on the taxi light, before we finally got on deck. As we rolled out, I commented about the utter lack of fun the past 30 minutes had provided and wondered if it could get any worse. The last plane airborne, a C-2, declared an emergency for an engine fire, and I had my answer.

I wonder how anyone can ignore so many cues and continue to push a bad situation. There is no way I would have taken that jet airborne back in the states, with good weather information and plenty of diverts. Somehow, though, during blue-water ops, with no weather forecast, the entire crew and I pressed on. The most important learning point for me is this: If the hair on the back of my neck is tingling, then it is time to stop, wind the clock and go back to the basics.