Angels of the Danger Zone: Photographing the Real Top Gun

Precision, Trust, and Speed at NAS JAX

Princess of the Skies, Queen of Cumulus, Empress of Elysium...Zachary had heard just about every nickname under the sun given to these efficient machines. Lesser names often stuck as well. Hardware. Equipment. Man-made marvels. People could call them whatever they wanted, but to him they were more than machines made to be flown in, more than stunts for the public eye. In a way, Zachary felt as close to the Blue Angels fighter jets as a cowboy did his horse.

Line Abreast Loop/followed by Four Point Hesitation Roll

When the Blue Angels perform at NAS JAX in Florida, it's mandatory to arrive early.

It makes sense to bring a chair, hat, and some really good walking shoes. Just getting from the parking lot to the actual fenced-off flight demonstration viewing area is a bit of a haul.

So...that's exactly what we didn't do.

Blue Angel Pilots Prepping for Flight

By the time we arrived at the visitor viewing area, it was wall to wall tall people. One of the drawbacks to being a 5' 6" photographer is all the other people simply trying to enjoy the event, increasing the chance of photographing the back of a stranger's head.

Well, the air was full of the usual Top Gun energy and the crowd was tight, so we headed into the nearby dirt field and I did what often has worked. No tripod, just dirt. In essence, I laid on the ground with a 500mm lens (not the fastest glass on earth) and prayed.

Up Close and Personal in the Dirty Loop Maneuver

From the ground (no kidding) during loops and set ups, it can look like you're up there with the Blue Angels. No second chances but everyone took a good number of images in the hope of getting a few decent pics.

The Final Salute

We salute not only the stealth pilots who remain Top Guns in America's heart, but also the great alternating crews of about 45 highly trained individuals who travel with the pilots and media teams to the shows.

The Best of the Best!

As a young child, Zachary feared heights more than anything his imagination could contrive. But the years went by. Times changed, and so did he. Having been through enough ordeals to have all but beaten that fear out of him, he was a very different person than he was in his youth. Nowadays, the smell of jet fuel and the ear-shattering roar of the engines was as invigorating to the soul as good food and drink. And he couldn't imagine a day without it.