SUCCESSFUL TASMAN FLIGHT

Press, Volume LXXII, Issue 21941, 16 November 1936, Page 10

SUCCESSFUL TASMAN FLIGHT

Mr Clark Lands in Dark at Wigram

FINISH OF LONG TRIP FROM ENGLAND

Enthusiastic Welcome from Huge Crowd

Making a night landing in the light of flares and motor-car headlights, Mr Ernie Clark, the young Canterbury flyer, arrived at Wigram aerodrome a few minutes after 8.30 last evening, completing his long flight from England. He had left Richmond aerodrome, Sydney, approximately 14 hours previously, on the difficult last leg across the Tasman. He made his first New Zealand landing at Blenheim, intending to stop the night there, but was easily persuaded from Christchurch to take to the air again and finish the journey to his home province. For his fine flight a great crowd of between 20,000 and 30,000 people gave the North Canterbury farmer-flyer one of the most tumultuous welcomes any flyer has ever received here. Thousands broke the barriers and, rushing madly* across the field in the dark, shouting and cheering, surrounded his machine until the engines had to be stopped. For a moment the crowd was quite out of hand. The enthusiasm of the welcome was beyond all doubt sincere. The obviously modest bearing of the airman only served to heighten it. Thousands tried to shake his hand as officials ushered him with difficulty to the club-house for the official welcome, and even then, while other speakers spoke of their pleasure at his safe arrival, a thousand throats shouted in unison “We want Clark.”

None of the authorities interested in the arrival or the control of the ground expected for a moment that Christchurch would show its appreciation of Mr Clark’s flight in such a remarkable way. Early in the afternoon a crowd of a few thousands gathered at the aerodrome, but thinned out considerably when it was learnt that the arrival would not be until early in the evening. Approaching 6 o’clock, the - numbers increased. Then came the advice from Blenheim, that Mr Clark had landed. The news flashed over the ground. There were obvious signs of the deep disappointment of the crowd. But Mr P. R. Climie, the secretary of the Canterbury Aero Club, thought rapidly. In a minute he had a call through to Mr Clark himself. There were thousands waiting to see the arrival, Mr Climie told him, and the whole city would be bitterly disappointed. Mr Clark expressed surprise that there was so much interest in his flight but agreed at once to start his machine again, and instead of staying the night at Blenheim, to come on to Christchurch. "We will have flares out and you should make it by 8 o’clock,” Mr Climie said. “The wind is favourable and we very much want you here.” “Right,” came thd voice over the Wire, and the crowd was happy again. Light From Motor-cars But even by that time it seemed obvious that the landing could hardly be made in dusk even, and as it proved it was pitch dark when the drone of the machine was heard behind the aerodrome. With flares burning along the landing way and the lights of hundreds of motor-cars flashing over the ground, the crowd strained their eyes into the darkness to catch the first glimpse of the aeroplane. A light flashed from the cockpit as the flyer

cii'cled the aerodrome, flying low and going twice round before he came in behind the defence force hangax’S. The machine could not Joe seen when it touched ground, but the crowd, surging against the rope barriers, heard the drone of the engine, and breaking past policemen and club members standing on guard, rushed across in the dark towards the spot. Policemen and officials shouted them back, and the wireless blared a warning, but carried away by sheer enthusiasm, the people streamed on until even motorists had joined in a race for a sight of the airman. Airman’s Appeal The aeroplane was taxied towards the clubhouse, the idea being that Mr Clark should be shepherded from the machine immediately into the shed. But a solid mass of people blocked the way, shouting for the airman to make an appearance. He stood up, looking not nearly as worn and tired as he was expected to look, and, when the engine had been stopped, quietly appealed for a clear way for the machine. The crowd near gave way immediately but it was impossible to taxi thx’ough safely, and the Percival Gull was taken into one of the defence hangars, while Mr Clark was ushered with difficulty to the clubhouse for the official reception. All the time thousands shouted and cheered him. They shouted for “Clark” continuously, and when he appeared at the window, and gazed down on 20,000 faces, they gave him a cheer. Keen Crowd At the end of the reception, more than 20,000 voices rose in three cheers, which echoed over the aerodrome and in the chorus “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow.” After the ceremony, Mr Clark was taken into a refreshment annexe for a brief respite, but evexx then thousands stood outside. Club officials kept Mr Clark literally locked up until the crowd had begun to disperse, but it was not until at least an hour after the reception had finished that the ground was moderately clear of cars and people.