FLYING
IMPRESSIONS OF A FIRST TRIP
(By W.8.N.)
"What is it like?" Certainly like nothing on earth. The novel sensation and glorious exhilaration beggars description.
It is the first flight of the day, on a lovely morning, with just a nip in the air which blew off the Rimutakas. The Avro machine, with its 100 h.p. Gnome engine, has been stripped of its coverings, and oiled, fed, and groomed for its daiiy performance at the Hutt Park.
"Are you ready?" asks Captain. Russell. "Well, climb aboard," and up we I ■clamber, and are soon ensconsed in the sheltered, comfortable seats, tandem, behind the pilot's seat. Captain Russell Eees us securely strapped in and takes his seqt. "Petrol on, switch off, suck in," he calls, and the mechanic, Mr. Sachs, revolves the propeller a few times to draw the gas into the cylinders before the spark is turned oti. "Contact," calls the mechanic, and "contact" replies the pilot, as he switches on the current. A sudden swing of the propeller blade by the mechanic, who immediately jumps back, the engine starts to hum its song and the propeller to raise a breeze which, makes the light particles of paper, etc., fly, and flicks off the hats of unwary spectators. A few preliminary revolutions of the engine, to warm her\ for the work ahead, and the assistants pull away the wheel chocks, and we are taxying down the park. Forward and back we go to get the engine right for the flight, and then we race away into the eye of the wind,, hardly feeling the bumps of the uneven ground, so lightly are we running and so fine is the springing, and then, before we are aware, we are rising gently over the fence and across the ploughed fields to the north, where, out of shelter of the hedge, we feel the first effect of the breeze—the gentle sensation of the rise and fall of a pleasure boat over a wavelet. Down goes one wing as we swing round in a graceful curve, and before we have time to think we are wheeling round over •the sea, and then back over the heads of those we were lately standing with, now mere dots on the park. As we face the valley again, a glorious panorama unrolls itself, and Upper Hufct comes into view with the river, like a silver thread, below us; houses are foreshortened till they become aE roofs, streets are chalk lines, and people have practically disappeared. ■ Suddenly you think thie is where you ought to feel afraid. You remember how on high buildings you have hed the sickening sensation of desiring to throw yourself over; but here your spirits soar with your body into the clouds, and you envy no man, except the pilot in his splendid mastery of the machine, which is obeying his gentlest touch, and your ambition soars to the day when you may guide your own machine through space. We are now well above the hilte, Hying over Petone, and as we gaze towards the south the snowclad Kaikouras spring into view, with the Picton Sounds and other landmarks in the foreground. Wellington, nestling among the hills, has become a child's toy-city, and as we rise over the Korokoro hills the ocean on either side of the island meets our vision, and we realise what) a tiny dot.in the waste of waters our Dominion is. As we swing round over the rmrbour, we come to know the value of the aeroplane for spotting submarines, for there, far below us, we see clearly down to the configuration of the sea bottom. . Suddenly the busy hum of the engine is silenced, and as we see the earth coming up to meet us we realise we are planing down, and know with keenest regret that our first "fly' is about to, end. Below us is the estuary' of the Hutt -river, yonder are the spectators awaiting our landing. Ahead ; s a gap in the pine trees ; skilfully the aviator guides his 'plane through it, a;nd gently, as a- feather coming to rest, we touch the ground. Up the field we taxi, round again to the starting point, and with a sigh of regret at the realisation, our "flip" is over, and we are. treading prosaic earth again. "Is it not dangerous?" Given a faithfully built machine and aviators of the knowledge and skill of Captain Russell and Messrs. Bolt and Going, of the staff of Messrs. Walsh Bros., and danger is practically non-existent. Certainly aviation is much safer than motoring. "The trouble is," said Captain Russell, "that the public is apt to make heroes of aviators who do quite ordinary feats, and our desire is to educate the people to know that aviation is one of the safest and most comfortable methodis of locomotion."
As the result of her experience, at least one Petone lady has decided to learn the art under the expert oversight of Pilot-instructor Going..
Messrs. Walsh Bros, intend shortly to enrol a summer school in. Auckland.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/EP19200904.2.89
Bibliographic details
Evening Post, Volume C, Issue 57, 4 September 1920, Page 9
Word Count
843FLYING Evening Post, Volume C, Issue 57, 4 September 1920, Page 9
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