Sixty-seven years ago, a B-17 bomber ditched off the coast of Guadalcanal in the Solomon Islands. Thirty-five years ago, I lived in the Solomon Islands and worked as a Peace Corps volunteer. My first visit after all of those years brought me to the village of Ndomo in November for a day of scuba diving. This was no typical dive, filled with a beautiful corals, colorful fish, and assorted exotic sea creatures. I was now diving on a unique Pacific World War II wreck, hidden underwater and, largely overshadowed in the land and sea histories of the battle of Guadalcanal.
Solomon Islands RPCV Mike Phelan finds the final resting place for this B-17 "flying fortress" in 70 feet of water near Guadalcanal
Mike Phelan: B-17 wreck, encrusted in coral and sponges, tells an amazing story decades later
* BY Mike Phelan
* Posted January 20, 2010 at 1 a.m.
Caption: Almost 70 years after limping back and crashing en route to Henderson Field, the top turret and its 50-caliber guns of a B-17 sit off the shores of Guadalcanal. Provided by Mike Phelan
Sixty-seven years ago, a B-17 bomber ditched off the coast of Guadalcanal in the Solomon Islands. Thirty-five years ago, I lived in the Solomon Islands and worked as a Peace Corps volunteer. My first visit after all of those years brought me to the village of Ndomo in November for a day of scuba diving. This was no typical dive, filled with a beautiful corals, colorful fish, and assorted exotic sea creatures. I was now diving on a unique Pacific World War II wreck, hidden underwater and, largely overshadowed in the land and sea histories of the battle of Guadalcanal.
The final resting place for this B-17 "flying fortress" is a black volcanic sandy slope in 70 feet of water just outside the fringing coral reef. Largely intact except for its tail assemblage, the fuselage sits silently. Four Wright turbocharged engines are still attached to the 103-foot wing span.
The throttle controls are frozen in place, probably at a low power setting with the propellers feathered to cushion the impact. The 50-caliber upper ball turret still has the two guns pointing upward, forever locked in mortal aerial combat. The cockpit seats are empty. Coral and sponges have encrusted most of the aircraft, but its aluminum alloy skin has resisted the corrosive effects of the sea better than the adjoining 30 or more steel-plated naval ships of the Japanese and American navies sunk in nearby Iron Bottom sound.
This dive lasted only 35 minutes. But my thoughts of the aircraft and its crew have stayed with me much longer. Upon returning to the United States, I was determined to research the story, and what a story it is.
This B-17, a model E, with one of the first signature large tails, was built in 1941 by Boeing in Seattle. Originally identified by its airframe number 41-2420, it was renamed by its crew Bessie. The aircraft was eventually relocated to Henderson Field on Guadalcanal in September 1942, and served in the 42nd Bombardment Squadron. The plane was captained by 1st Lt. Charles. E. Norton and had a crew of nine.
On Sept. 24, Bessie took part in a bombing mission of Tonolei, a Japanese seaplane base in the Shortland Islands, near New Guinea. Attacked by Japanese Zeros, the badly damaged aircraft limped southeast back to Guadalcanal and the U.S.-controlled Henderson. Unfortunately, the plane did not make it. Bessie ditched into the sea no more than 200 yards offshore, 20 miles west of the U.S. lines in a Japanese-controlled area.
War records show that Norton was taken prisoner after evading capture for six days in the high grasses of the Guadalcanal hills. He died of a severe leg wound sustained in the crash landing. Another crew member, Sgt. Bruce W. Osborne, a gunner, also survived the crash. His remains were found in 1944 by Navy Seabees in the nearby hills long after the Japanese retreated from Guadalcanal.
Other crew members' fates are unknown and they were labeled by the War Department as presumed killed in action. Navy salvage divers in 1944 visited the wreckage and reported that four parachutes were found inside the aircraft indicating other crew members may have made it to shore.
Today, Bessie sits proudly beneath the sea. The roar of her engines is long silent, but her story can still be heard. She tells the story of desperate times in war far away. The story forever memorializes the supreme sacrifices of her brave crew on that fateful day.
Phelan, of Stuart, has been an avid scuba diver for 43 years.
