In a rare and costly mishap, a $60 million U.S. Navy F/A-18 Super Hornet sank into the depths of the Red Sea after it was accidentally dragged overboard from the aircraft carrier USS Harry S. Truman. The incident, which occurred during an evasive maneuver while under fire from Houthi rebels, has raised fresh concerns about safety protocols, naval readiness, and the vulnerabilities of high-tech fighter jets operating from carriers in increasingly hostile and unpredictable environments.
While no personnel were harmed in the incident, the loss of one of the Navy’s most advanced multirole fighters is a serious blow—and it’s not an isolated case. Just over three years ago, in a similarly high-profile accident, a British F-35B stealth jet plunged into the Mediterranean Sea after a failed launch from HMS Queen Elizabeth. Both accidents underscore the perilous nature of carrier operations and the immense technical and financial losses when things go wrong.
According to a statement from the U.S. Navy, the F/A-18E Super Hornet was being towed inside the hangar bay of the USS Harry S. Truman when the ship performed a sudden evasive maneuver. The maneuver, part of the carrier’s standard defense tactics to avoid missile threats, inadvertently caused the towing crew to lose control of the jet. Both the aircraft and the tow tractor were lost overboard.
“The F/A-18E was actively under tow in the hangar bay when the move crew lost control of the aircraft. The aircraft and tow tractor were lost overboard,” the Navy confirmed. Fortunately, sailors quickly moved to safety, and no injuries were reported. The Navy has launched an investigation into the mishap and emphasized that the air wing remains “fully mission capable.”
These types of incidents are rare but not unheard of. Nimitz-class carriers like the Truman are nuclear-powered giants with massive operational footprints and are built for survivability under attack. Part of that survivability involves the ability to zigzag unpredictably—especially when navigating dangerous waters like the Red Sea, where the Truman has faced repeated threats from Iran-backed Houthi rebels.
This latest mishap follows a string of troubling incidents for the Harry S. Truman. In February 2025, the carrier collided with a merchant ship near Egypt. Two months earlier, in December 2024, one of its Super Hornets was hit by friendly fire from the guided missile cruiser USS Gettysburg. Thankfully, both pilots safely ejected. These incidents collectively highlight the increasingly hazardous nature of modern naval deployments and the mounting pressure on carrier strike groups operating in contested zones.
The U.S. Navy is not alone in facing such challenges. The Royal Navy suffered its own high-stakes accident in November 2021, when an F-35B stealth fighter fell into the Mediterranean shortly after attempting to launch from HMS Queen Elizabeth. The jet, valued at over $100 million, failed to take off and instead dropped off the carrier’s ski-jump ramp directly into the sea.
Initial confusion surrounded the cause, with speculation about foreign object ingestion in the engine. The final report confirmed a basic but catastrophic human error: a plastic rain cover, known as an engine intake blank, had not been removed before flight. This oversight blocked airflow, causing the engine to stall and preventing the aircraft from lifting off.
The pilot managed to eject safely, and the aircraft briefly floated next to the ship before sinking to the seafloor—over 6,500 feet deep. The recovery operation was urgent and shrouded in secrecy, not only because of the loss itself but because of the advanced technology on board the F-35B.
The F-35B crash kicked off a high-priority international effort to recover the wreckage before adversaries could. The aircraft was loaded with sensitive radar, sensors, and stealth systems that, if salvaged by hostile powers, could pose a major national security risk.
Reports indicated that Russian surveillance aircraft had closely monitored HMS Queen Elizabeth throughout its deployment. Given Russia’s deep-sea salvage capabilities, including the use of the specialized vessel Yantar and deep-diving submarines, the UK was under pressure to act quickly.
Working with the U.S. and Italy, the UK launched a recovery mission involving remotely operated vehicles (ROVs), divers, and sonar technology. The U.S. Navy provided key salvage equipment based in Spain, including the Towed Pinger Locator 25 (TPL-25), capable of detecting emergency beacon signals underwater.
Despite extensive efforts, locating the jet proved difficult. The sonar beacon intended to guide rescuers failed to transmit, delaying recovery efforts. Eventually, the wreckage was found about a mile from the point of impact, largely intact but inverted on the seabed. Divers used inflatable bags and ROVs to carefully bring the jet to the surface over the course of several days.
Once retrieved, the wreckage was transported to a secure Allied port and then flown back to the UK for forensic examination. The incident became one of the most technically challenging and secretive salvage missions in modern naval history.
Perhaps the most unsettling element of the HMS Queen Elizabeth crash is its cause: a simple oversight. The intake blank, meant to protect the engine from foreign objects while parked, was left in place. As the jet accelerated for takeoff, the blank was sucked into the engine, dooming the flight before it even left the deck.
Ten months after the incident, an investigation by the UK Defence Safety Authority confirmed that inadequate checks and failure to follow procedure led to the loss. It was a stark reminder that even the most advanced aircraft can be undone by routine human error.
Carrier operations are inherently risky. Flight decks are crowded, fast-paced, and dangerous. Moving, fueling, arming, and launching aircraft requires tight coordination between deck crews, pilots, and command centers. A lapse in protocol, a distraction, or a momentary misjudgment can lead to disaster.
The losses of the F/A-18 and F-35B—both during routine or non-combat activities—raise questions about the strain placed on naval forces and the true cost of global power projection. Each jet represents not just millions of dollars but years of development, training, and technological integration.
When these aircraft go down, it’s not only a financial loss but a security one. Every crash risks compromising classified systems. Every salvage operation demands significant resources. And every delay or mishap on the flight deck can ripple across an entire deployment.
With increasing threats from Iran-backed militias, Chinese naval provocations, and Russian surveillance, Western naval forces are operating in increasingly hostile and congested waters. The tempo is relentless, and the margin for error is narrowing.
Both incidents underscore the urgent need to improve operational discipline and review safety protocols aboard carriers. In the U.S. Navy’s case, that means re-evaluating towing procedures during active deployments and ensuring hangar operations can be paused or stabilized during evasive maneuvers. In the UK’s case, it has meant stricter pre-flight checks and better accountability mechanisms for deck crews.
Technological solutions, such as smarter failsafe systems, automated object detectors, or enhanced aircraft restraint systems, may offer partial relief. But ultimately, these accidents are a human challenge—one of coordination, training, and vigilance.
As military deployments grow more complex and adversaries grow more sophisticated, preventing the next jet from falling into the sea may depend less on high-tech hardware than on old-fashioned attention to detail.
The accidental losses of high-value fighter jets into the ocean serve as a sobering reminder that even the best-equipped navies can falter. In both the F/A-18 and F-35B incidents, no lives were lost—but the stakes could have been much higher.
Carrier-based aviation will always involve risk. But when tens of millions of dollars in cutting-edge equipment—and potentially sensitive technology—end up on the ocean floor due to human error or unanticipated maneuvers, it’s a wake-up call.
