THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Thursday, May 18, 1995 TAG: 9505160102
SECTION: NORFOLK COMPASS PAGE: 02 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY DAWSON MILLS, CORRESPONDENT
LENGTH: Long : 122 lines
The antique flying machine shook and rattled as it sat waiting its turn to pull onto the runway.
Oil streaming from two Pratt and Whitney Twin Wasp Radial engines mounted on the wing high above us splattered droplets that turned into streaks on the plexiglass bubbles through which we peered out.
The bubbles were there for the machine gunners, reminding us that this craft originally had been a war machine.
Originally.
A long time ago.
I was sitting, strapped in, facing backward, along with four other passengers and a crew of five (pilot, co-pilot, crew chief, crew chief-in-training and ``organizer'') aboard a PBY-6A Catalina. The plane, I had been told, is the only PBY in the world currently flying in military configuration. Owned by the National Warplane Museum in Geneseo, N.Y., the plane is still flown about a hundred hours a year.
Our hop in a PBY had been scheduled as part of NAS Norfolk's recent 42nd International Azalea Festival Air Show, ``Reflections of Victory,'' marking the 50th anniversary of the end of World War II. It was in that war that the PBY distinguished itself many times over.
This particular PBY-6A Catalina was built in August 1945. It bears precious little resemblance to sleek, modern military jets such as the F-14 Tomcat. It bears little resemblance to any but a handful of other aircraft, either; the Catalina was a seaplane. Sometimes called ``flying boats,'' these aircraft are capable of taking off and landing on water. The nose resembles a boat as much as a plane; it even has cleats.
The original PBY, in 1935, was a pure seaplane, capable of operating only from water. When not in use, the aircraft could be moored, like a boat, or temporary wheels could be attached to roll it up a ramp - ``beach'' it - for service or parking. But when ready to fly again, it was back to the water.
The fifth version, or PBY-5, gained a tricycle landing gear that could be used for takeoffs or landings. That made it a PBY-5A. The nose wheel retracted into a well covered by outer doors as on modern airliners. The side wheels retracted into recessed wells on the side of the fuselage, remaining visible. It wasn't particularly aerodynamic, but with its cleats, bubbles and hull-shaped keel, the rest of the aircraft wasn't, either.
The ``A'' in the designation of the later Catalinas meant that they had moved into a different category of aircraft, the amphibian. Amphibians are those planes equally at home taking off or landing on land or water. There haven't been many of them, despite their obvious advantages.
Bending around the machine gun to peer out through the oil-smeared bubble, one could look forward along the fuselage or up at one of the two reciprocating engines and through its massive propeller. I was struck by the sheer size of the airplane, given its vintage, with a wingspan of more than 100 feet.
When it was our turn to take off, the pilot locked the brakes and advanced the throttles, increasing the vibration of everything in the old bird and the noise to a deafening roar.
The pilot released the brakes, and we began our roll. Herb Twitchell, the crew chief, explained later that they no longer fly the aircraft from water because of insurance and training considerations. Also, there are few places where the plane can be exhibited - when on display it is opened up to visitors for a nominal donation - while afloat. NAS Norfolk, which used to handle seaplanes, is one such place where it could be, however. It struck me as a pity the old bird wouldn't be in its marine environment.
The takeoff pressed you back against your seat or, in my case, sitting backward, pushed me out of mine, restrained only by the seatbelt. But it was a more gradual, gentle pressure than one experiences in modern jet airliners with their seemingly almost vertical noise-abatement takeoffs.
Once airborne, while still clawing for altitude, we began a wide swing that carried us over the Peninsula, over several of the Navy's newest carriers. My thoughts drifted back some 35 years earlier to another association with seaplanes, half a world away.
I never had seen a flying PBY before my hop; I was told by the flight crew they had been retired by the Navy in the early '50s. Likewise, I hadn't come across the Martin PBM that took its place. But as a 12-year-old, in August 1960, my family moved to NAS Sangley Point, in the Philippines, across the bay from Manila. In those days, to my delight, the Navy was still flying seaplanes, Martin P5Ms and P5M-2s. They were easy to tell apart; the P5M had a ``normal'' airplane's tail, with the horizontal stabilizers below the vertical tail; the P5M-2s had a ``T'' tail, with the stabilizers at the top.
VP-40 squadron was based there then. I remember hearing that they had rotated in and out of Sangley with VP-46, which also flew seaplanes, but during our two years there VP-40 was the only seaplane squadron.
Those P5Ms seemed truly monstrous aircraft at the time. Like the PBYs and PBMs before them, they were twin-engine, but they were huge. True seaplanes, beaching gear was floated out to them when they landed and attached to the sides to bring them up the ramp and park them on land. With the wheels attached low-down on their slablike sides and their keels extending underneath, they appeared to dwarf other aircraft of the period.
At takeoff, they were something like 7,000 pounds over single-engine take-off weight. That meant if you lost an engine on takeoff you were going back into the drink. They used Jet Assisted Take-Off bottles to help get the lumbering behemoths into the air. Occasionally a discharged JATO bottle, falling back to earth, would strike a fishing boat, creating a mini-international incident.
The PBYs had served a multitude of purposes: reconnaissance, search and rescue, transport of people and cargo, even bombing. But by the '60s, only one role remained for the last of the seaplanes: surveillance.
In June 1962, we left Sangley Point, VP-40, and the P5Ms behind to return to the States; Dad had been reassigned to Newport, R.I. Although they were still flying when we left, I never saw another P5M. Their mission, I learned later, gradually was taken over by land-based planes like the military version of the Constellation, Boeing 707, and others that have come and gone since.
In fact, I never saw another seaplane, except for an occasional UF-1, until my encounter with the antique PBY.
We finished our circle over Hampton Roads and lined up on the runway for landing. Soon and uneventfully we were down, the flight down memory lane over. The next day, though, I returned to the air show, with my wife and daughter in tow. I walked them through the antique aircraft displays, making sure they got a good look at ``my'' PBY. They never had seen a seaplane before. But now they have and understand a little better the role played by these craft, part airplane and part boat, in the history of aviation. ILLUSTRATION: Photo by DAWSON MILLS
This seaplane known as a PBY-6A Catalina, flown at the Azalea
Festival, is the last PBY in the world currently flying in military
configuration.
by CNB