From our student air traffic control towers on the flight line at Keesler Air Force Base, near Biloxi, we watched in amazement at the bravery and daring of those intrepid Catalina crewmen. Several of the lumbering "Ninety planes" stood at the ready to rescue seamen or aviators in distress along the Gulf Coast. The birds were called by Air Force types as the "Ninety planes", because they were reputed to take off at 90, cruise at 90 and land at 90 knots airspeed.
When alarm bells went off, signaling a distress call for the Catalinas to respond as quickly as possible, flight crews scrambled across the ramp in a dead run. They clambered aboard their twin engine Catalina seaplanes. In seconds the engines roared to life, usually belching smoke and shaking the whole plane before coming up to operating speed. In less time than it takes to tell the story, with engines still cold and potentially able to quit running any second on a wet and dreary morning, the high-winged amphibians headed for the runway. Somebody's life could depend upon quick reactions and the skills of the flight crew.
The big balloon tires were soft enough to permit take-offs on grass or pavement. And on more than one occasion pilots headed for the Gulf in the most direct route from where they were parked. That included taxiing across grass between the runways, angling over taxiways and making a beeline for the north-south runway. Soon engines roared to full power and the ungainly looking seaplane accelerated for take-off. At the departure end of the runway was a stand of tall southern pines. Just one sputter of an engine could spell disaster, but steadily and with determination the Catalina roared off on its rescue mission.
Most pilots are reluctant to push their plane's engines without first making a careful check of power settings, magneto drops or various temperature and pressure readings. Those truly gutsy Catalina pilots didn't have the luxury of time to make sure everything was perfect. They were on a life or death call and every second could count.
On other occasions we watched the Catalinas practicing take-offs from the waters not far off shore. Up in the control towers we got a good view over and past the trees at the end of the runway. The show that the Catalinas put on was fascinating indeed, especially when seas were calm.
Around and around we'd watch the Catalinas taxi across the water. Then they'd straighten out and roar over the waves for takeoff. It was a necessary process, for the flying boats had to have choppy water to break the hull suction that inhibited take-off. From calm smooth waters they just couldn't manage it. But by making waves and roughing up the waters they could then accelerate and get airborne.
Those amazing Catalinas and the daring airmen who flew them I'll always remember. They never got the notice or credit they deserved. Theirs was a dangerous, yet vital, mission.