Mid-afternoon on 9th December 1980, my pilot, Flight Lieutenant Steve Martin and I were briefed for a Low-level practice intercept sortie as part of Steve’s work up in the F-4 Phantom II. Steve had arrived on 23 Squadron three weeks earlier.
We set off to our operating area 30 miles east of Lowestoft at 15.00hrs and everything proceeded normally for the first 1hr20min. It was our turn to act as target for our playmate, we decided we would provide a tricky target by flying at 250 feet asl at 250kts. Just as we turned in, I called for a fuel check (there is no fuel gauge for the rear cockpit), the response indicated we had used over 2000lb of fuel in the past 2 minutes, the expected use would be less than half this figure so we suspected a fuel leak and set off for base climbing at max power. Subsequently, it was determined that No 1 (feeder) fuel tank had split due to a manufacturing fault and dumped its contents onto the two engines.
As we were climbing Steve reported that a FIRE light had come on, this warning indicated that the rear of the engine is exceeding 800°C – most likely a fire. I looked out at the wings and could see fire reflected on the cranked section of both wings. This was easy as it was getting dark. Steve then reported that other engine FIRE light had illuminated. Both engines indicating that they are on fire. Further, the ENG light, indicating that the centre section of the engine temperature exceeds 600°C. Simultaneously, the third warning light for the engine system, OVHT, came on. Thus, all 6 warning lights indicating that each engine was on fire. The other crew commented later that there was about 200yds of flame behind our aircraft.
Before we could discuss our situation any further the intercom failed. The intercom amplifier is at the base of the tail fin on a Phantom, thus very adjacent to the fire. As we couldn’t communicate with each other I decided to eject. Steve heard the bang of my seat firing and agreed with my decision and followed me almost immediately. I was aware of a bang and then a rush and the next thing I remember is seeing a small flickering flame, which I think was the remnants of the rocket charge. I must have rolled forward with my head between my knees. Before I could think of anything else, the parachute deployed and I looked up and was surprised to see a multi-coloured canopy, for some reason I expected it to be white. I noticed the aircraft heading west on fire.
We subsequently discovered that the aircraft crashed in the wake of a Trinity House Ship having passed within feet of the top of the mast. I found myself on my chute at 7,000ft and began sorting out my survival kit, I deployed the dinghy pack and initiated the Personal Locator Beacon (PLB) which was newly modified so that it could be operated whilst on our parachute. We were the first to use the new PLB in UK. I attempted to pull up the dinghy pack because I was oscillating under the chute, this proved difficult so I gave up to get ready for hitting the water. It was getting dark as we descended. The Torso harness was still in use and, therefore, to release the chute on landing I had to remove the safety pins in the Koch fasteners then on landing unclip the fasteners. My plan was to unclip the fasteners as the dinghy pack hit the water, however, I hadn’t thought it through and the pack hit the water about half a second before I did! But I did manage to disconnect the chute successfully.
The wind was blowing over 30kts and the speed I hit the water meant I went deep and even with an inflated life jacket I had trouble holding my breath until I surfaced. I pulled the dinghy pack towards me and operated the dinghy inflation. In my hurry to board the dinghy I reached for the handles to pull myself in; it just folded up as it still needed time to fully inflate. Once on board I settled in completing the drills. Then when I had the chance to look around as I reach the top of each wave and was disappointed that there were no ships in sight. But pleased to see that Steve appeared to be in his dinghy. It was now time to keep warm (sea temperature was 7°) and try and get the dinghy as dry as possible.
It didn’t seem very long before I saw the lights of an approaching SAR Sea King. Fortunately for us, the SAR helicopter was at RAF Coltishall rotors turning for some night winching practice when they heard our PLB signals and were on route to us before we hit the water. The lift was straightforward, and we flew to RAF Hospital Ely.
There were a couple of further incidents before we landed at Ely. The SAR crew picked up our dinghies and while doing this the autopilot failed and had to be gathered quickly by the captain. My immersion suit leaked and I was feeling cold so asked for some heat. Unfortunately, the heater overheated and had to be switched off. The rest of the trip to Ely passed without incident. After numerous X-rays I spent the rest of the evening tucked up in bed watching a couple of Beatle films on tv in memory of John Lennon who had been murdered the night before.
We returned to Wattisham the next day and I flew three days later.
To all at Martin-Baker, my heartfelt thanks for their meticulous work and fantastic seat that ensured I could enjoy the 45 years since my nighttime dip in the North Sea.
Nick Morgan
