NEW RECORD-MAKER

Evening Post, Volume CXX, Issue 124, 21 November 1935, Page 8

NEW RECORD-MAKER

BKOADBENT'S FLIGHT BATTLE WITH MONSOONS "FRIGHT OF MY LIFE" (From "The Post's" Representative.) SYDNEY, November 13. What is the long-distance flyer made of? Whipcord and steel? Something of super-resilience, at all events; something that beaten and bent to the ground, springs quickly upright, as strong and vigorous as ever. The question and answer are prompted by Sydney's most recent recruit to the world's "aces," H. F. (Jim) Broadbent. Look at him walking along a street, and you would never link him with a series of mighty aviation deeds. You would think, perhaps, that the limit of his endurance would be a three-set tennis match, or a couple of hundred yards' swim through the surf. He is of thin build. He is barely of medium height. Yet he has proved that, as an airman, he is capable of amazing endurance. He has performed notable feats in Australia, notably his 10,000 miles flight round Australia earlier this year in less than four days. Now he has written his name on the scroll of international fame by breaking Sir Charles Kingsford Smith's solo record from England to Australia by 7i hours. "NEVER AGAIN."

Broadbent did the journey in a Percival Gull 'plane in 6 days, 21 hours, 14 minutes. He arrived at Darwin on Saturday afternoon, utterly exhausted, his face unshaven and lined, confessing that he had suffered the fright of his life, and pledging himself never to attempt another record flight. His face told the story of his terrific fight against tropical disturbances between Rangoon and Darwin—the same storms and the same stage that proved so disastrous to Kingsford Smith. "Never again!" said Broadbent, as he stepped from his 'plane. "It is a senseless ambition, I suppose, for records today have short lives; but I have always wanted to be first to fly solo between England and Australia under seven days. I have done it and I am satisfied. But I have nearly killed myself. It was all I could do to keep going. I have been sick and after the fourth day I didn't think I could carry on. I wrote a cable at the end of the fourth day, saying I was chucking up the whole business, but when I went to the cable office to lodge it, it was closed. Next day I had a better run of weather and was cheered up by the petrol supply just holding for a night landing at Rangoon, so I tore up the cable. I have never been so afraid in all my life as on this flight. Never again will I fly across long stretches of sea in a single-engined aeroplane." THE LAST HARD LEG. Everyone expected that Broadbent, tired and unnerved, would take ills time on the journey from Darwin to Sydney. But not this young man in a hurry. Less than .nine hours after touching Australian soil, he had taken off again, in moonlight, and had reached Sydney before dusk the same day, accomplishing the longest day's journey for a light 'plane ever done in Australia. "And it was the worst day of the whole flight," said Broadbent. "All the way I had a ding-dong trattle to keep myself awake. I got so bad, that pinch myself as hard as I could, I really could not hurt myself." Broadbent, who left London with C. J. Melrose and flew with him to Singapore, reached Rome on the first day and Athens on the second. He flew through fog, then heavy snow to Bagdad on the third day, then through equatorial dust to Karachi on the fourth day, and to Rangoon on the fifth. "My picnic began there," he said. "I encountered storms and *• ind fiercer than I have ever conceived. Clouds were black all around me. Suddenly I would see a break in the walls and make for it, leaving my course and hoping to pick it up later. I flew round and through monsoons, backwards and forwards and sideways. I was scared stiff. To make matters worse I had a new machine, valued at £2OOO, uninsured. FLYING IN STORMS. "Several times I resolved during storms I was encountering that I would sit on the ground and take things easy; but some brightness came along to cheer me and I pushed on. All the way from Batavia I battled against the elements. I went through two of Sumatra's peculiar squalls along a 200-mile line, with torrential rain and a 70 miles an hour wind. My ground speed was 210 miles an hour. I was flying low, hurtling at unbelievable speeds, for me, over palm trees. I shipped 20 gallons of water. The last two hours to Koepang were terrible. Comings over the Timor Sea I allowed for 50 degrees of wind drift. The wind was fierce and the waves were whitetopped. 'Where is Australia,' I kept asking myself. I could see for only 100 yards. I was almost on the water. Suddenly I saw a wind indicator. It was Cape Fourcroy emergency aerodrome on Bathurst Island. I had fluked a direct course."