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VOP
copter approached the cruiser at sea did I realize that
/took the photograph on the previous page from a
whaleboat, so that I could capture one of the Navy’s new Oliver Hazard Perry -class frigates from the most dramatic angle—water level. Also important, for visual impact, are high seas. However, such conditions bring with them their own problems. For one thing, lowering and hoisting a whaleboat in high seas requires experienced seamen, and sometimes results in their use of salty language while attempting to get afloat and away from the ship. It is a gross understatement to say that a small whaleboat tossing in heavy seas is hardly the ideal platform for photography; one needs a strong stomach and a steady hand. Either you are sunk in a trough, seeing nothing, or you are cresting and have but a few seconds to compose, focus, and expose the film before you are back down in another trough. On one operation, our whaleboat was quite a distance from the ship when our engine began overheating dangerously, and there was much concern about losing power. It took all the know-how the coxswain could tnU^J to keep power, get us back to the ship, and maintain heO way in order to stay alongside until we were hoisted aboa Although high seas are a necessary evil for dramatic PlC' tures, the quest for too much “drama” can become a d°n gerous proposition in a whaleboat, even for salty sailors-
rhe dramatic arrival on board our ship of a Royal Navy officer did not fill me with envy. A few days earlier, I had been introduced to what is a routine ^ method of joining a ship at sea. My orders had read (inlt uously enough): “U.S.S. Turner: VOD.” Only as our hr1 meant vertical on-board delivery, and referred to me—n°* the helicopter! With no further warning, a collar was
Proceedings / December
StraPPed s° 0fte ^rour>d me and attached to a cable. As I had done and did 6^°re’ ^ Put "V fadh in God and the U. S. Navy vv/'/jc/i Wkat ^ was *®W. / stepped out of the helo and its like a TlCkly out the cable. The drop was almost Pended ee'^a^ undl, as if by a miracle, my feet hung sus- unhar 0 ^°0t °r S° from deck; I was gathered in and addedle?Se^ . ®0,n# the reverse to leave the ship offered the e«Sines ^ac*lon °f being blasted by hot exhaust from the by (fle ’ 'or what seemed an eternity, before I was caught l went t?C^ °f my belt and hauled on board the helicopter. Went fro r°U^1 six times on one operation alone as I to this °m ,0 sh‘P> and while I finally grew accustomed to the n,et^l°d °f arrival and departure, I never relished it c°Pters t’We extent as my assistant. He had served on heli- n°t dr ln Y‘etnam> and any arrival or departure that did nn°vingt *nto a flam‘ng jangle, or turn him into a target for enemy bullets was a piece of cake to him. | r~T^he officer in charge of the aircraft carrier’s flight M deck had granted us permission to take photographs M from what was called the “holy helo pad.” This adjoined the catapult launching area and projected from the ship on the port side. Each time an aircraft was launched, the heat and exhaust blasted me with such enormous force that I’m surprised I wasn’t blown overboard. In addition, photographing the rear view of an aircraft necessitated my having to clean off the liquid and grit which sprayed the lens and camera after each launch. The next day another officer was on duty, and I asked for permission to shoot from a different vantage point. This was readily granted, but the officer cautioned me that under no circumstances should we ask for permission to shoot from the holy helo pad, as no photograph was worth the danger. In retrospect, I can see how the holy helo pad offered a fine opportunity for being launched into the hereafter! |
ed"18s / December 1983 | 83 |
rhe countdown for a missile firing is usually gade ^ reliable, and it is no problem to photograph a lall,‘ with a 36-exposure roll of film and a motor drive- But the firing of 16-inch guns on board the USS New
art
/was photographing at sunset from the carrier’s catwalk on the port side, forward alongside the flight deck. This gave me a spectacular view looking aft to the recovery deck as each plane returned and caught its hook on the wire. I could feel and hear the recovered planes passing me to go further forward on the port side of the deck for parking. As the parking area filled, each plane passing above me stopped closer to where I was positioned.
I was so engrossed with the landing procedures in front of me that I was not aware of the danger building behind me. Suddenly, a plane stopped to park on the deck directly alongside the catwalk. The pilot pivoted the rear of the plane toward the safety officer and me, giving us the full effect of his engines—about six feet from our heads! The safety officer frantically gestured for me to follow him through a hatch about ten feet away. With no time to shut my aluminum camera case, I dragged it with me as I backed toward the hatch on my hands and knees. The case got too hot to touch; fortunately, the handle that I clutched so tightly was made of plastic. Of course, the cameras most
Jersey (BB-62) was almost impossible to capture. Once order to fire is given, it takes six or more seconds before the blast actually occurs. A motor-driven camera runs through 36 exposures in six seconds, making it very easy be out of film before the guns fire. On the other hand, V waited until I saw the blast, then I already would have waited too long. However, unlike missile firings, there ate many opportunities to photograph the big guns during a ^ routine test firing. With persistence, good reflexes, and 0 of luck, I managed to capture the “big moment.”
Proceedings / Decen*l*er
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^ ^B‘n^ 8ranted permission to photograph the ^ | eParlure of a nuclear-powered attack submarine out me ~n ^ew London, I hired a private helicopter to assist c°mm >ny ^ S°°n found that my pilot, who had been trated,SS\°ne^ before by photographers from Sports Illus- subm ’ ■ eserved his daredevil reputation. We stayed with the speed*™!16 a^most an hour as she left port and picked up letls ’ ' usual, finding the best combination of angle,
thing 0,1 e^evatlon took time. The pilot was game for any- ri„e S° We maintained our distance in front of the subma- niovin * s^eways at the same speed my subject was perfect ^booting out the side door of the helo gave me a Carner(^anta^e po*nt from which to change lenses and must ha ^ s^ht °f as directly in front of his sail
the from6 >error‘zed the skipper, who no doubt imagined “Nu , ~P(l8e headlines of New London’s morning papers: captai^a^.^ttacb Sab Crashes into Helicopter at Sea.” The after ! lna^y blasted his horn; I got the message—right g0tn f'°l my photos—and headed for home. subni 6 ln,e ^ater’ while taking photographs on board a Sn>arted ^ Strate8*c missile submarine, my eyes watered and otodern 1 was almost unable to see. Was
l Jinan technology unable to get pure air into a submarine? air Sv , caPtared the culprits who were contaminating the pain ^ m °f the entire submarine (and who were feeling no °rs i cause they were equipped with gas masks): two sail- e galley, peeling onions for the day’s meal!
/J°°h two separate trips for me to photograph a Tri- had m*SS^e ^aunch from a submarine. The first launch h°ssibii- t0 ^ PostPoned until nighttime, a hopeless photo 1 lt^’ tlespite the fact that it provided dramatic visual
eed«ngs / December 1983
effects for spectators. For my second attempt, the sea was rough and a bit stormy. Our escort ship was rolling, making it rather difficult to keep a long telephoto lens focused and aimed at the spot in the water where the missile was expected to emerge. When the countdown came to “one,” I pressed the motor-drive button and the missile emerged from the deep six frames later. It seemed to hang in the air for a split second as it ignited and blasted off with a terrifying beauty, the force of which hit me in the chest like a fist. It lit up the gray overcast sky and then quickly disappeared into the low clouds above. I took my finger off the shutter release button and, glancing at the frame indicator on my camera, found irrefutable evidence that the event had been a fast one: I still had unused film.
/had lost count as to how many times I had signed a waiver before being strapped into an aircraft or facing another risky photographic adventure. So putting on a Marine Corps helmet and flak jacket and signing my John Hancock on another waiver we,re routine for me. Running alongside marines engaged in a frontal assault was not too different, l thought, from covering a football game. To get the best pictures, I knew I had to be slightly in front of the action. Only later did the sergeant of one of the fire teams tell me I was crazy to have stayed ahead of his men that way. He let me in on the secret that many of those riflemen had never fired live ammunition in such circumstances before, and any one of them could have accidentally tripped and blown my head off. Obviously, some photography requires a certain measure of ignorance—or stupidity! I don’t know which was more dangerous, surviving my years of convoy duty in the North Atlantic, or surviving the photographing of Keepers of the Sea.
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