The glories — and tragedies—of ‘Free Flight’

Press, 17 July 1980, Page 15

The glories — and tragedies —of ‘Free Flight’

By

ROSEMARY BRITTEN

The “Free Flight” exhibition at the Robert ■McDougall Art Gallery (until July 18) is not for those who believe that if God had meant us to fly, he would not have given ns the railways. Rather, it is for all those who have dreamed of flying without benefit of the internal combustion engine, or any other sort of engine.

From the high central dome ,of .the gallery are suspended a colourful profusion of balloons, hang gliders, and kites. Delicate transparent pictures of dirigibles and hot-air balloons move gently as you p£ss. . , ....

A manned balloon is a rare bird now; 100 years ago they could be , seen more often. When the balloon was in its heyday a man could make a living, ballooning; some did. Some died. , ....

One such was Captain Lorraine whose brief visit first entertained - and then shocked Christchurch. ' Born David Mahoney at Auckland in 1872, he drifted from job to job, toured with theatrical companies, and then in . England found , the spot ' that become his occupation ! —ballooning. I •' He learned the technique from a Captain Lorraine and, at the age of 19, was giving public ascents in England and 1 France. He quickly became known for his daring and his disregard for danger. A popular act. was to as-. cend •to about 7000 feet and then descend by parachute, leaving the balloon jto be recovered later. He assumed his tutor’s name. . and returned to Auckland in 1898. The following March he married - a-pretty Christchurch girl, , a Miss Juriss, and came ' south; making, ascents in Wellington on the way. He arrived in Christi church in time for Show Week — Carnival. Week. ' Christchurch took its mer- . rymaking seriously in 1899. Carnival Week meant dinners and balls and parties, waxworks , and

vaudeville, theatre and sports meetings, culminating in the race meetings and the A. and P. Show.

Captain Lorraine made two ascents which pleased the crowds but were financially unsuccessful; too many people found they could watch a balloon without paying. The Mayor and' some other prominent citizens arranged to, give him a benefit performance on November 2, a week before Show Day. In return for their generosity he promised them the best show ever — he would ascend higher than before, and as he drifted slowly down he would preform on a trapeze attached to his- parachute. About 1000 people gathered in Lancaster Park to see the gaily striped bah loon, “Empress” and the daring Captain. It was typical Christchurch Show weather,' cloudy' and warm. In the late afternoon,, just before the gas-

filled balloon was ready to - take off,, a gusty norwester brought clouds of stinging dust, and made the balloon dance and

strain at its anchoring sandbags. The captain climbed on the shoulders of “Hercules” (a strong man lent by a visiting vaudeville show) and tied his parachute to a ring halfway up the side of the balloon. The sandbags were removed and 20 volunteers held the ropes. Captain Lorraine’s young wife brought him the trapeze which he attached to the parachute, and he settled himself on a knotted rope below the balloon.

The “Lyttelton Times” describes him: “The Captain sat quite at ease, a strong, well-knit figure clad in dark blue uniform, the coat of which he had laid aside. There was not a trace of anxiety on his fine, ‘ clean-shaven face, and nothing of self-esteem

or bombast in the bearing of the man.” The captain said goodbye to his wife who then stepped back into the crowd, the band played “Rule Britannia,” the holders let go the rope, and the balloon bounded up clear of the people. The crowd gasped in shock as the parachute broke free and dangled below the balloon. The

captain held the attached trapeze, but the silk hung almost to the ground. Hercules caught it, and holding it with difficulty against the pull of the “Empress,” shouted to the captain to jump. Perhaps fearing anti-cli-max more than danger, he called back; “It’s all right; let go.” Hercules obeyed and the balloon leapt up about 100 feet. The parachute opened then, slowing the rate of climb, but the strong wind carried him rapidly eastwards.

A silent and horrified crowd could see Captain Lorraine sitting on therope, holding the cords of the balloon with one hand and the trapeze with the other. Another gasp went up as the parachute fluttered down, empty. Relieved of its drag, the balloon shot up -very high, and was blown speedily towards Sumner.

In the park, knots of anxious people gathered around those spectators with field-glasses, and the balloon was watched as it sailed high over Mount Pleasant. The . captain could be seen climbing the rope netting up the side of the balloon, trying to tilt it so that gas could escape.' The balloon did not seem to be collapsing and descending as it dis-

appeared over the hills. Someone telephoned the Lyttelton Police from the Lancaster Park Hotel, and parties of people left for Sumner by carnage and for Lyttelton by train. Mrs Lorraine went to Lyttelton and waited on the wharf. There was only one witness to the final scene — the signalman at Adderley Head. He saw the half-full balloon descending rapidly

and sailing out to sea with the captain sitting quietly in the ropes. He watched through his telescope until the balloon was about opposite the entrance to Port Levy, where it suddenly collapsed and fell fast from about 1000 feet.

He could see Captain Lorraine sitting on the partly inflated balloon as it got smaller and smaller. It sank in about 10 minutes.

A pilot boat put out' immediately and by hard rowing reached the spot about five minutes later, but there was no trace of man or balloon. It was

joined by a tug from Lyttelton and by the Sumner Lifeboat, but in tire strong wind, choppy sea, and growing darkness, they found nothing. Mrs Lorraine returned to Christchurch. Searches of the sea and coastline continued for days, but no trace was ever found of Captain Lorraine or his “Empress.” People offered assistance to the young widow. A benefit concert was organised (nearly 59 pounds collected at the door), the Gas Company announced it would make no charge for the gas which inflated the fatal balloon; subscription lists were opened; and two firemen collected money in the . Square every day during Show Week. The Athletic and Cycling Club which was to have sponsored Captain Lorraine’s ascent on Show Day, gave all proceeds from that meeting to the fund.

Ministers found a readymade subject for their Sunday sermons, deploring the reckless disregard of the value of human life which allowed it to be imperilled for' mere amusement.

The media took a broader view. “Ballooning was his profession,” said the Editor of the “Lyttelton Times,” “and he followed it with that modest bearing and cool courage which every Briton admires.”

He went on to say that the balloon should have been fitted with a safety valve so that, gas could have been let out. gradually and the balloon brought down under control. “Progress in the science of air. travelling,” he wrote, all too truly, “must, it seems, be paid for in the lives of those who make experiments.”