Arrester: Hook

The wind was whipping across the deck at thirty knots, and the carrier was pitching in the swell. Jax didn't aim for the deck; he aimed for the wires. Four high-tensile steel cables, stretched across the landing area, were held just inches off the deck by leaf springs, waiting to be snagged.

"Three-zero-five, Hornet Ball," Jax called out, his eyes locked on the "Meatball," the glowing amber light on the ship's optical landing system that told him if his glide slope was true. arrester hook

Lieutenant "Jax" Miller nudged the stick of his F/A-18 Super Hornet, the horizon of the Pacific Ocean tilting sharply as he banked into the carrier’s landing pattern. Below him, the USS George Washington looked like a postage stamp lost in a dark blue void. The wind was whipping across the deck at

The heavy "stinger" of the hook struck the deck, trailing sparks as it skated across the non-skid surface. Then, it found purchase. The hook's curved point snagged the #3 wire, the "target" cable for every naval aviator. "Three-zero-five, Hornet Ball," Jax called out, his eyes

If the hook missed—a "bolter"—he needed enough speed to lift off the short deck before he tumbled into the sea. CLANG.