Never again

Approach, Sept, 2002 by Case Vernon

We were a few weeks into our cruise, and I was enjoying life as a nugget pilot with VFA-147. Carrier Air Wing Nine and the USS John C. Stennis battle group were crossing the Pacific to relieve a carrier in the Arabian Sea, in support of Operation Enduring Freedom. We deployed two months ahead of schedule, and everyone was excited about the upcoming combat operations.

I was scheduled for a night sortie to remain night-current onboard the boat. I was relaxed about the flight--not too much preparation or study for this hop. "Just go out and bag a night trap," I told myself.

I went through my normal rituals: Suit up, grab the weight chit, and go up to flight deck control to see where my jet was parked. Aircraft 406 was parked in the six-pack, which I thought was great because the floodlights from the island would shine down to help me preflight and strap in. I did the standard walk-around and everything looked good. About this time, I could hear the distinct sound of other Hornets starting. I looked at my watch and realized I had only 20 minutes until launch time. I cursed myself for being late.

The plane captain used the electrical canopy-actuate switch inside the ground-power-receptacle door to open the canopy--standard procedure. I climbed the ladder and started my ejection seat and cockpit preflight, then strapped in and started the normal startup checklist. It was warm outside--about 80 degrees Fahrenheit, so I decided to leave the canopy up for start until the ECS cooled down and had good flow. Once I had both engines online, I became distracted with some FCS Xs and BLIN codes. I had a troubleshooter hook up, and I read the problems over the ICS. By this time, other aircraft were taxiing to the waist catapults in front of me, and I was nervous about making the launch.

We finally sorted out the FCS gripes, and the IBIT passed. In this confusion, I still had not lowered my canopy. As the PC gave me the "four down" signal, I remembered to lower the canopy. I held the switch in the down position, but to my surprise, nothing happened. The canopy didn't move an inch. I cycled the switch up and down--still nothing.

I signaled for the troubleshooter again, and he hooked up for the second time.

"What's up sir?" he asked.

I explained the canopy would not move when I held down the switch. He checked the circuit breaker and told me it was OK. Next, I shut down the port engine so he could climb up and take a look for himself. By this time, the first aircraft was in tension on cat 4, and I was thinking to myself, "I'm going to miss this launch because my stinking canopy won't close."

After the troubleshooter tinkered with the switch, he yelled to me over the noise that he manually would crank down the canopy a little ways, and then I could take over with the handle stowed in the cockpit. I thought this was fine; let's just hurry up already.

He started cranking, and the canopy started to move down. In the cockpit, I wrestled with the handle and finally dislodged it from its clamp. I took over cranking from the `shooter and the canopy slowly came down to the rail. It started moving forward, as it should. I cranked until the canopy caution light went out on the left DDI and then cranked it a few more times until it stopped. I figured that was good enough--the light was out, and the handle wouldn't crank any farther. I stowed the handle and gave a thumbs up to the yellowshirt, who was waiting impatiently in front of my jet.

I was quickly broken down and taxied to cat 4 for launch. I went through my checklist bottom to top and went to military upon the "take tension" signal. I gave a good wipeout of the controls and double-checked my flaps-half, trim and radar altimeter set. I turned on my external lights and grabbed the towel rack with my right hand. Ahead of me was your standard, scary night sky, with no horizon whatever.

At the end of the stroke, I felt a thump, and a little wind rushed into the cockpit. It was followed closely by the infamous "deedle-deedle." All I was concerned with was rotating and flying away from the water. I already had selected max power down the stroke, so I set 10-degrees-pitch attitude and looked for a positive VSI. I raised the gear and flaps, and after passing 1,000 feet, I punched out the master-caution light and looked down to see canopy, voice/aur, and CNI cautions.

I hesitantly looked to see if the canopy was still there. It was, but it had slid back about four inches--as if you had closed it normally until it hit the canopy rails and then stopped. At that moment, I heard a loud beeping tone in my headset--like an ELT beacon sounding. I pulled out the comm 1 knob to deselect guard, but nothing came up in the UFC scratchpad. I tried comm 2--nothing. It was as if the radios had frozen. The situation had gone from bad to worse, and I was frustrated.

I decided the worst problem was the open canopy, so I lowered my seat all the way, and slowed to 200 knots. I decided to put down half-flaps too, and slow to 150 knots. I climbed to 8,000 feet, set the autopilot, and retrieved the PCL from my helmet bag. I had departure control on comm 1, so I tried calling them a few times. Between the wind noise and the ELT going off, I couldn't hear a reply. I had plenty of fuel--13,500 pounds to work with, which was at least an hour's worth at that altitude and power setting.