                             THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT 
              Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: Sunday, October 30, 1994               TAG: 9410280018
SECTION: COMMENTARY               PAGE: J7   EDITION: FINAL 
SOURCE: LYNN FEIGENBAUM
                                             LENGTH: Long  :  111 lines

ON A CARRIER AND A CAMPAIGN

The photo of the battle group in Tuesday's newspaper was fairly small and not very clear. I could barely tell that the ship in the middle was a carrier, the Dwight D. Eisenhower.

But expert eyes noticed that the picture was reversed - or flopped, as they say in the newsroom.

``You can always tell by looking at the carrier,'' said Jack O'Neil, a retired Navy lieutenant commander who flew torpedo bomber planes during World War II. ``The island is always on the right side of the ship, meaning you are at the stern looking at the bow.''

Indeed, the ``island,'' with its control tower and bridges, was on the left or port side in the aerial photo. O'Neil was one of a half-dozen readers who called to set us straight.

The mistake occurred when the newspaper developed negatives provided by the Navy. And I should have spotted it at a glance because, less than a week earlier, I had been aboard another carrier, the Enterprise.

It was a memorable experience, especially the landing and takeoff. I have a new respect for the words ``arresting wire'' and ``catapult'' - and for what it takes to run a floating city of more than 5,000.

For two days, three other landlubbers and I toured the newly overhauled nuclear carrier as it plied the Atlantic about 100 miles off Virginia Beach on a shakedown cruise. (You'll get to read even more about it because military editor Dennis Joyce and staff photographer Motoya Nakamura went several days later.)

We saw radar facilities and hydraulic systems, maintenance shops and hangar bays, mess decks and wardrooms spread around the carrier's 20 or so decks. We scaled countless steel ladders and learned to avoid knocking our knees on the knee knockers (elevated ``door'' frames). And we were reminded that the cable-strung corridors had overheads and bulkheads, not ceilings and walls.

I couldn't help but look at the ship from a woman's view, especially since there were only about a half-dozen others aboard. (The 33-year-old Enterprise is not yet outfitted for women sailors.) I learned that berthing compartments are not for birthing but to house as many as 80 sailors. And that PMS on a carrier stands for Planned Maintenance System.

But mostly we watched in awe as a young crew (average age 23) of radar operators and flight-deck personnel guided planes onto the carrier, day and night, bringing them from 150 mph to a halt in something like two seconds. It was a fascinating sight, especially coming just hours after our own landing.

We had flown out of Norfolk Naval Air Station, along with a planeload of Navy personnel, on a Grumman C-2 Greyhound - better known as a COD (Carrier Onboard Delivery). Our uniform of the day was a ``float coat,'' an inflatable vest filled with items of comfort should we land in the drink . . . strobe light, ocean dye marker and whistle. On our heads were ``cranials,'' safety headgear with goggles and Mickey Mouse ears.

Strapped into our seats, which faced the back of the aircraft, it seemed no time at all before we were in sight of the Enterprise. (I had one of two small windows. Alas, I got too queasy to appreciate the view.)

Our pilot brought us down to about 800 feet; then, at the warning ``carrier break,'' the plane plummeted another 200 feet and made a pass at the deck. The idea was for our COD to hook one of the four arresting wires. It missed - or boltered, as they say.

Second time around, we made it and, rubbery-kneed, were out on the flight deck.

I could go on about what it was like to stand on the windy port bridge wing (a k a Vultures Row) and watch CODs and F-14s make their precision approaches and landings. Or to see the machinery that operates the steam catapult that would later hurl us, like a slingshot, off the carrier.

Certainly, I'll never forget that takeoff - huddled in a semi-fetal position and getting punched into the sky like an astronaut.

For a lifelong civilian, it's a whole different way of life that I've only sampled for 24 hours. But I'll keep it in mind the next time people like Jack O'Neil call and tell us we flopped a carrier photo.

NORTH COVERAGE: Callous or courageous? Even as the Senate race was winding down, more than two dozen callers blasted last weekend's front-page spread, ``What did North know?''

The story cited evidence that ``seems to contradict'' North's claim that he didn't know about drug-running back in the '80s, when arms were being shipped to the Nicaraguan Contras.

That same day, Oct. 22, the banner headline was, ``Wilder endorses rival Robb.''

``I don't know why you all don't just put right on the front page, `Vote for Robb,' '' said Julie Hubba of Virginia Beach. ``That's what you're saying.''