Planes and aircraft carriers

How do the planes come to a complete stop when landing on an aircraft carrier. Is it just a matter of braking or is there a mechanism there to help them stop? Do they go slow enough so that they can stop on their own when landing?

I just saw one on TV and the runway looked pretty short.

There’s a cable stretched across the deck which is caught by a hook hanging off the back of the plane.

You may recall the word “tailhook”? Carrier planes literally have big hooks on the tail; there are steel cables stretched across the flight deck. If all goes well, the hook catches on one of the cables, and a multi-ton airplane moving at a couple hundred miles an hour comes screeching to a halt in a few hundred feet. If the plane misses, the pilot has to try to throttle back up and fly off the other side. If he fails, the plane will sail right over the side of the carrier and splash into the ocean.

Launchings are also quite different from your normal runway take-off. The planes are literally shot into the air by giant steam-powered catapults.

They also do all of this at night, too, including the tailhook landings.

They have a hook on the bottom, which will catch one of four cables across the deck, which are connected to massive pistons to slow the plane down rapidly and effectively. The planes go to full throttle as they land in case they miss and have to get airborne quickly for another go around. The pilots try for the number 3 cable, but there are the others just in case a landing is less than ideal.

On the deck, there is a landing signals officer (LSO) to direct the plane, and the “meatball”, a set of lights that are visible from different approach angles.

Planes landing on aircraft carriers have no “runway,” simply a small patch of deck onto which they execute their controlled crashes each flight.

The way they stop is by use of a hook, dangling from the tail of the plane, that engages one of a series of cables stretched across the deck. Each cable is a bit longer than the deck is wide, with the ends coiled around large brake drums. When the plane comes across, the hook engages the cable and begins to drag it; the brakes stop the cable (and plane).

The “tailhook” is the mark of the carrier pilot (having no long runway as a land-based pilot has), so “Tailhook” was the name given to the meetings of carrier pilots each year–including the notorious meeting in Las Vegas which resulted in assaults on several women.

From the US Navy web site:

To add to the above, note that the arrestor cables’ tensions are calibrated based on the incoming aircraft (different aircraft have different landing speeds and weights, of course).

From this press release commemorating USS Constellation’s 375,000 “trap”:

The reverse problem exists too, there is not nearly enough room on the flight deck for even the most powerful fighter jet to reach takeoff speed. Aircraft carriers come equipped with steam catapults which accelerate each aircraft to takeoff speed once it reaches the end of the deck.

Unless you have one of our little mini-carriers with Harriers: no need for catapults or arrestors on these boats.

I heard on TV the other day that the crew on the carrier deck receives hazardous duty pay (I think they meant even in peacetime). This is because if the cable breaks, it will mow down anyone in its path. How often do those cables break? I’m assuming that it’s not too often or the Navy would provide some additional protection for the flight deck crew.

I don’t know how often cables break, but there are other dangers on the flight deck that justifies hazardous duty pay. You may recall the footage of a sailor who was sucked up into the port intake of an A-6. Got a little too close, and hoover! His web belt (or something) caught on a probe and he stopped with his head about six inches from the compressor blades. Small equipment went through though, and damaged the engine. The pilot, seeing a lit annunciator light, chopped the power. Other men have not been so fortunate. The intake on the now-retires A-7 Corsair II is said to have “a particularly sinister reputation”.

A crewman can be blown over the side by jet, propeller or rotor blast. There are accidents. Recall the fire aboard USS Forestall during the Vietnam War. Spilled jet fuel (which is basically kerosene) ignited and bombs were cooked off. A missile lit and flew into another aircraft. Being on the ocean, the deck can be wet or icy. Slipping hazard. My dad slipped on an ice-covered Corsair (F4U-type) wing during the Korean War and injured his back. On another occasion a crewman was blown into the propeller of the aircraft behind him. I suppose you can always walk in front of a landing or departing aircraft.

Not a safe place, those few acres.

It’s called Flight Deck Pay, and it’s richly deserved. A typical Carrier deployment will have a fatality and several near-misses.

Almost, but not quite: A starter cart was left running where it’s exhaust could vent over the body of an armed Zuni rocket. th rocket “cooked-off” and flew across the flight deck loaded with ordnance-laden and fully-fuelled aircraft, striking an aircraft just ahead of LCDR John McCain’s A-4. Yes, that John McCain. Showing remarkable presence of mind, and isolated from rescue by the blazing fuel from the ruptured fuel tanks, he crawled out along the refuelling probe to get past the flames. Meanwhile, fuel had spread across the flight deck, and a bomb had fallen off one of the stricken planes. It cooked-off, killing the primary flight deck fire crew, and setting off a chain-reaction that killed 132 men, left two missing, and injured another 60+.

Uncommon heroism was the order of the day, including:
• Ltjg. Robert Cates, the carrier’s explosive ordnance demolition officer, calmly recounted later how he had “noticed that there was a 500-pound bomb and a 750-pound bomb in the middle of the flight deck . . . that were still smoking. They hadn’t detonated or anything; they were just setting there smoking. So I went up and defused them and had them jettisoned.”

• Ltjg. Cates also told how one of his men, whom he named only as Black, volunteered to be lowered by line through a hole in the flight deck to defuse a live bomb that had dropped to the 03 level — even though the compartment was still on fire and full of smoke. Black did the job; later, Ltjg. Cates had himself lowered into the compartment to attach a line to the bomb so it could be jettisoned.

• Two Forrestal flight deck crewmen, reports said, were knocked overboard by one of the explosions, fell 70 feet into the water, were picked up by a rescue helicopter and deposited back on the flight deck — and resumed fire fighting at once.

• Filipino stewards, some who appeared to weigh no more than 100 pounds, rolled 250-pound bombs to the edges and pushed them overboard.

• With strength born of adversity, 130-pound Lt. Otis Kight single-handedly carried a 250-pound bomb to the edge of the hangar deck and threw it over the side. His shipmates are certain he will never be able to repeat that feat.

Much more detail here.

Truer words are rarely spoken.