A Halloween Sea Story

[tfbncc]

As any good sea story goes, it all starts with "This is no sh*t!"

Many years ago, in a different part of my life, I was a Navy enlisted aircrew member. I flew on P-3C long range patrol aircraft. At the time of this story I was attached to Patrol Squadron 56 and I was on my 4th deployment. We were deployed to the sunny island of Bermuda, doing mid-atlantic ASW patrols keeping tabs on the soviet ssbn's. Every once in awhile, a different mission would come along to break the monotony and all the crews would jump at the chance to do something different. My crew got the luck of the draw. Crews consisted of 3 pilots, 2 flight engineers, a tactical coordinator, navigator, radar operator, 2 acoustic sensor operators (my job), electronics technician, and an ordnanceman. We were tasked with supporting an underwater test of a new semi permanent bottom anchored sonar array that could be dropped like a torpedo from an aircraft or ship. We were to fly from Bermuda down to Roosevelt Roads, Puerto Rico. The Navy has a huge underwater acoustic test range down there. Oh yeah, we also had to bring along 30 cases of Mk-64 explosive signals, underwater sound. A case of Mk-64 SUS contains 6 of the little bomb shaped explosives and is about the same size as a can of 20mm ammo for size reference. The Mk-64 contains about 1.7 pounds of an stable explosive (I can't remember the exact material) and 1.8 ounces of TNT as the initiator all fired electronically by a salt water activated battery. The flight engineer did the math while he was working out the weight and balance sheet. Something on the order of 326 pounds of explosives.

Now, the P-3C, while being a really excellent long range aircraft, is not set up at all to carry cargo of any sort. The interior of the aircraft is filled with electronic equipment and bays with little spaces in between. But we loaded all those cases of SUS and stacked them in between the electronics bays, hoping that they would ride alright. With bags packed and per diem checks firmly in hand, we mounted our trusty steed and took to the wild blue yonder, as the Air Force is fond of saying. Heading South, we landed in Roosy Roads several hours later.

The acoustic test was supposed to be very simple. After the sonar was deployed by a ship, we were to fly around the test range at varying known distances and drop the unerwater signals at timed intervals. This would give a baseline sensitivity to the sensor array from which more complicated calculations would provide probable target sensitivity and expected ranges at different depths and water temps. Unfortunately, something went wrong with the launch system and the test was at first postponed, and eventually cancelled as the problem turned out to be larger than expected. Oh well, so our trip to sunny PR was cut short. We still had the 30 cases of SUS on the airplane. It didn't take long to pack our bags again, check out of the barracks, climb back into the plane and depart for Bermuda late in the afternoon.

Long, overwater transits are boring. It's part of the job but no one likes it. We were about 2/3 of the way back to Bermuda. It's night time now and we're estimating a 2300 land time. We were flying back along the commercial airways route at about 26 thousand feet. The pilot, co-pilot, and flight engineer are up front driving the bus. The off duty pilot and flight engineer are in the back of the plane racked out in the bunks above the dinette table. Myself, the 2nd acoustic operator, the in flight technician, and the ordnanceman are sitting at the table playing cards to pass the time. The tactical coordinator, navigator, and radar operator are at their stations. The radar operator has the radar up and operating keeping an eye on the weather. Somewhere to our West, were the last vestiges of a tropical storm that never quite became a hurricane. We hear the radar operator on speaker tell the pilot that there is a line of possible storm cells ahead of us but that they are way below us and shouldn't be dangerous. He gives the pilot a time till penetration. We hear him count down.

As we penetrate the feeder band, there is a blinding flash of light on the starboard side of the airplane! Lightning strike! Then it's as if a huge hand just takes the aircraft and pushes it sideways to starboard. All 4 of us that were at the table are dumped onto the floor. The off duty flight engineer floats out of the bunk overhead and just hovers in mid air over us. The off duty pilot was smart and fastened his safety belt when he first laid down so he stayed put. As soon as the aircraft stops moving sideways, the bottom drops out as we are slammed by huge down draft. The engineer never touched the floor, he just started floating down the center of the plane with me right behind him. We finally come down halfway up the tube next to the sensor stations and we grab the pedestals of the chairs and hang on as we are alternately pulled up, then slammed down over and over again. The electronics technician makes it to his seat but he can't get his seatbelt fastened as he is thrown up and down like a yoyo. The ordnanceman took the worst hit. He is slammed against the overhead at first, then dropped violently to the deck on both knees. He crawls to his seat and finally gets strapped in. As we all hang on for dear life, you can hear the engines screaming as the pilot redlines the throttles trying to get any airflow over the wings and get us out of the microburst. The wings finally start to get some bite on the air and the aircraft groans as the pilot hauls back on the yoke. Finally, we leveled off somewhere around 11 thousand feet. We started out way above the clouds. We ended up almost at the bottom the clouds. Maybe 20 seconds of freefall. There were bodies scattered to all corners of the aircraft. Box lunches, cards, paperwork...everywhere. Oh yeah, those 30 cases of explosive signals that were just stacked between the bays without any tiedowns? Not a single one of them moved an inch.

This all happened October 31st 1979, Halloween night, in the Bermuda Triangle.

[Rod]

Yeah, yeah. You were all drunk! Good story.

[tfbncc]

Well, after we landed the pilot said "screw the postflight! Y'all meet me at the club, we're getting drunk!"

[Rich]

Well, after we landed the pilot said "screw the postflight! Y'all meet me at the club, we're getting drunk!"

Now, that's the part that is unbelievable.

[randy]

The Mk-64 contains about 1.7 pounds of an stable explosive (I can't remember the exact material)

Probably H6. I know the bigger "devices" (MK-82,83,84 etc) contained H6 filler when deployed on carriers as it was more stable and therefore safer to handle and store aboard ship than the tritonal used to fill AF weapons.

We had to factor that into calculations when planning for ops with the Navy/USMC as the H6 weapons, being more stable was slightly less reliable to detonate. Not a huge difference, but enough statistically to plan for it on ops when we really didn't want to have to go back a second time.

[MarkD]

Finally, we leveled off somewhere around 11 feet.

I REALLY hope you left out the word "thousand" in that sentence......

[Aesop]

This is why the first thing astronauts and other long-time experienced aviators put on is a set of Depends.

[tfbncc]

Aesop, yeah, 11K feet not just 11. I was really tired this morning when I typed this up. Corrected in the story now.

[JustinR]

This is why you go *AROUND* thunderstorms.

[MarkD]

Aesop, yeah, 11K feet not just 11. I was really tired this morning when I typed this up. Corrected in the story now.

I'm not Aesop but I'll forgive you for making that mistake. I'm older, grouchier, and almost as snarky as he is.