NEW MAGELLAN

Evening Post, Volume CX, Issue 68, 17 September 1930, Page 16

NEW MAGELLAN

EARTH-GIRDING SMITH

CONQUERED TWO OCEANS

DREAM FULFILLED

The airmen of to-day stand much in the same relation to posterity as did thoso hardy explorers and adventurers of the sixteenth century, who first braved the dangers of the unknown seas, either to find a shorter route to India or to plant the flags of their countries in strange lands.

If Lindbergh is to go down in history as the Columbus of the air, then Major Kingsford Smith will undoubtedly be known as its Magellan, for his has been the first attempt'at encircling the world in an aeroplane over oceans, writes S. J. Woolf in the "New York Times."

It was just before he took'off to complete tho last lap of this epoch-making flight—the lap from New York to California —that he posed for mo in New York. Behind him was the most dangerous part of his trip—he had crossed the' Pacific to Australia, flown to the British Isles, and had reached this continent.

. Short, but muscularly. built, he gives the impression of treniendous energy, an impression intensified by his nervous activity and alertness. His face is long, his forehead slightly protuberant, his nose large, and his .pale. blue eyes are penetrating^ ■ Tanned and weather-hard-ened, his face' has well-marked lines, such lines as have all men who live niueh of their" lives in the open. And yet, despite this ruggedness, he has about him something that brings to mind a fellow-Australian —Percy Grainger.- Perhaps it is the wavy sandy hair, or the blue of the eyes, or the thin mouth,1 or perhaps it is something more subtle than any of these: a similarity of imagination," of outlook. For this airman is something more than just a flyer. There is "a note of poetry and fancy about him that suggests that he can keep his ears tuned to the hum of the motor and yet see the clouds about him. He has a humorous turn of thought, and a quickness of expjpssion, a sailor man's wit and a sailor man's sentiment. He has the ,lovo of home that is the sailor's, the nostalgia that none experiences save those who have wandered. A HUMAN DYNAMO. He is a human dynamo of energy. Nevertheless his square-tipped fingers and his almost knotted hands are those of a man who can tinker endlessly with gadgets, who can give his nerve force to manual work. It is impossible for him to sit and do nothing. His movements are quick and incisive, and about him always is an air of action. It was the man in whom I was interested, rather than in what he had done; it was. the point of view that prompted the performance rather than the performance itself which I wanted to hear, about. "Was it a desire to benefit science, or a reckless devil-may-care spirit of: adventure —the same spirit that sent Drake and Hudson and countless other Britons over uncharted seas? "I was born in Australia," he told me, "thirty-three years ago, tho baby of a family of seven children. My father owned a sugar plantation, but my memories of it are very hazy, for when I.was about six years old I was sent to Canada, and I stayed there until I was 12' years old. When I went back my family was in-Sydney. , "I went to school there and thon I studied electrical engineering. I had just become an apprentice when the war broke. There's no use my telling you what the feoling was in my country. "What our troops did speaks for itself. But the wild sights about me, the bands playing, the flags waving, and the boys leaving, were too much for me, and at 18 I enlisted and set sail for France." riRST "PLIGHT." I asked him whether at this tinio he had any interest in flying. "Tho only interest I had shown, up to that time, was when I was about sis. A Professor Penland was giving exhibitions in a balloon in our part of the country. If; was white, and up in tho sky it looked to me like a large umbrella. So one day I sneaked into tho house and got one, opened it and proceeded to jump off our chicken house. If my brother, who was considerably older than I, had not seen me and rushed over to catch me, I do not think I'd be posing for you now. "When I went to France I was in the infantry, and I had no thoughts of flying at all. Indeed, it seemed to me a pretty dangerous sport. But after I had been in the trenches for some time, cold and wet, with the dugouts not much better, and after I had seen a number of my comrades killed and wounded right there beside me—after that, as I looked up and saw those fellows in the air and heard about the comfortable quarters they had behind the lines and the clubs that were composed solely of aviators, I began to think that perhaps they were having the better time of it. Moreover, I was fed up with trench life. I was willing to take a chance at anything, no matter what it was, just to relieve the awful monotony. So I made application for the air force and was accepted." As an aviator Captain Kingsford Smith—he was not then a major— brought down a Jiumbcr of enemy 'planes, for which ho was awarded the Military Cross, but he was finally downed himself. His foot was injured. After his recovery he went to England, where he became an instructor in flying. WITHOUT A JOB. "Then," he went on, "the war ended, and I was without a job. But if 1 say so myself, by that time I knew more about flying than I did about electrical engineering, so I camo over to this country and went out to California, where I took up passengers on observation flights." After two years of flying on the west coast, he felt tho call of home. So he returned again to Australia and began flying there.

"I managed to save a little money. What was even better, I gradually began to be known for my flying. Then I made the quickest flight on record around that continent and naturally this increased my reputation.

"When I was in California I often would go out to tho shore and look at the ocean and wonder how long it would take for mo to fly home. The idea took hold of me. The more I studied the maps the more convinced I was that it could be done. The illfated attempts to reach Hawaii did not discourage me. I suppose I am a fatalist, and for some reason I was convinced I could make it.

"At all events, the idea of a transpacific flight would not leave mej and back home I finally persuaded the Government to promise me financial assistance. I started for California again, but "by the time I reached there the Ministry was turned out, and tho new one would not stand back of the old one's promise. But I had gone too far to stop. I decided to finance it I myself. I borrowed money, and on the day I hopped off from Oakland in the k'ootl. old Southern Cross I was exactly 'jf»,000 dollars in debt. I guess there

were a number of people hoping I'd make it, for more reasons than one."

I. asked him which. crossing was the more difficult, the Atlantic or the Pacific.

"There were two different problems," he replied. "Suva and Hawaii are like needles in haystacks. It is a pretty ticklish job finding them in a great big ocean, but the weather was better. On the Atlantic flight I got radio reports constantly. To tell you the truth, I was not particularly anxious -or fearful about fogs. What I wanted to know was about the storms, for up to this time fogs had never bothered me. But it was pretty shaky I during those hours that we were flying ! blind, and to make matters worse one compass pointed east another one west. That is something I do not understand and cannot explain, and it is something that I feel roquires a solution." In reply to the question as to whether he experienced any doubts as to finding land eventually, he answered: a bit. I was absolutely certain that we would make it, and never for a minute did I lose confidence. Do you see that grip over there?" ho asked, pointing to a large suitcase. "I left that here with some of my things, so that I would have them when I flew here. I did not leave a suit, because I did not have one to spare. That's the reason we had to radio here to have some on hand for all oi: us when we arrived.". ALONE. "What were your feelings as you sped over the ocean?" I asked. "One of intenso loneliness and isolation. Saul and Stannage were behind me, Van Dyk beside me but although the three of them were right in the 'plane, for some reason or other I seemed to forget them. The noise of the motors drowned any conversation, and all our communications were of necessity written. But as we got away and I looked down and saw at first the great expanse of water and then nothing but fog, the world seemed not to exist. I felt that I was alone in the universe. In a way I seemed a little world spinning through space. An entity. The earth was no longer there, nor were the stars; my companions, as far as I was concerned, had disappeared. The only reality that I could grasp was my own self. "It was with a feeling of relief that we at last found ourselves over land. But as we flew around trying to get our, locations, as the impenetrable fog hid from our eyes what waß below us, I felt that at least we had solved some mysteries. There is no doubt in my mind that most of those men who have been lost had flown through these heavy curtains that Nature hangs over that part of the world. They lost their way and kept going blindly until fuel was exhausted, when they dropped. MOUNTING HOPE. "As it is I can imagine their feelings, the hope that each moment the fog would lift so that they might learn where they were. I know their thoughts, as they saw their gas gauges slowly dropping, while they whirred through the skies, not knowing where they were." His bright blue . eyes had stopped twinkling. Then he quickly shook his head and, as if he were speaking to himself, went on:— "But after all, what's the difference? It is all in a limetime, and what is to be will be. However, all of them have added their mite to the thing that is bound to happen in the near future, and that is regular air travel over the ocean. When you consider that it is but little more than twentyfive years that we have had heavier-than-air machines, and weigh tho progress that already has been made, you can judge how soon this wiJi, be nil accomplished fact." •