220329 Sentinel, Chasing a Typhoon

Typhoon Winds
I still remember the night back in 1965.

This was what a typhoon looked like on radar. This was on a 250 mile range from the center of the screen to the edge of the screen. So this appears as a 200 mile wide typhoon top to bottom.

We frequently see news broadcasts about storms that rip buildings and homes apart with 80-90 mile per hour winds. They are dramatic and impressive.
When I see them I am reminded of this story,
It was 1965 and we were assigned to VW-1 on Guam. VW-1 was a weather reconnaissance squadron. Its mission was to track typhoons across the wide Pacific and report on them to protect naval units and civilian populations on the islands and mainland of the Pacific Rim countries. The squadron also provided overnight radar coverage for the Seventh Fleet off Vietnam. This particular incident centers on one mission reporting on a typhoon.

This is the plane we were in during the typhoon, the picture was taken on a dependant's day viewing.

We were out chasing a big typhoon in the middle of the night in the middle of the Pacific. We monitored the storm all through the night and reported on its course and speed. The air was so turbulent even 100 miles away that we had to remain in seat belts at our radar consoles all night long. The Lockheed super constellation we flew in was a huge aircraft with an enormous wingspan. The wings on those planes would flap like a bird’s wings in turbulent skies. The constant jarring and bouncing was so bad that even the more seasoned crewmembers were getting airsick. Those trying to sleep in the bunks on the plane were also strapped in to keep from being tossed out to the deck. The plane smelled of regurgitation. I admit my gag reflex operated more than once, but I did not upchuck. The next morning, it was decided that we were to penetrate the eye of the storm to make meteorological measurements inside the center of the typhoon. For those who may not know, the center of the typhoon is actually quite calm, the edges do all the damage. The pilot changed course and into the typhoon we went, penetrating a typhoon with 120 nautical mile per hour winds, roughly 142 miles per hour winds! The wind shear was dramatic. The constellation dropped several hundred feet in a few seconds and it was enough to lift one’s stomach up into his throat. The aerographer's (meteorologists) took their measurements during the several minute flight across the eye of the storm and then it was back to carving our way out through the opposite wall of the typhoon. Everyone’s stomach felt as though its contents were sent through a blender, but we made it out (otherwise how could I be telling the story?)
I thought about that this morning and it occurred to me that if 80 mile per hour winds can tear buildings apart, how lucky we were to purposely fly through a 142 mile per hour barrier and then do it again a few moments later. We were in the middle of the vast Pacific Ocean. There would have been nothing left of us, or the plane, if a wing had sheared off. The only ones who would have ever found us would have been the sharks who would have had full bellies for a few hours or days.
All of this boils down to one thing; when I was young, I never gave things like that a thought. Now that I am old, I look back on those days and adventures and I wonder how I made it and why. Had we gone down in the Pacific, I would have missed a lot of wonderful life experiences.