“SOLO TO SYDNEY”

Gisborne Times, Volume LXXII, Issue 11404, 3 January 1931, Page 9

“SOLO TO SYDNEY”

HOW F. C. GHICHEST ER LEARNED TO FLY.

Mr Chichester says that he is often

asked: “How. did you learn enough in five months to enable you to fly V to Australia?”, He replies: “Briefly ' I only just did learn enough in the time. It has been said that flying is an art, like writing or making love. If you'-cannot do it nobody will ever teach you, and if you can nobody will ever stop you. But about the art of flying there is at least one notable difference: the writer and the lover can try again; the aviator must master his technique in tho few weeks when the instructor is beside him to prevent a mistake from costing him his life. . . . Personally, used to learning things off my own bat, by the try-and-try again method, as, for instancy,- ski-ing, when I think I fell 444 times the first day, T found learning to fly with an instructor extraordinarily difficult, and in fact I had to put in 24 hours of dual instruction before I was con- . sidered safe tq go solo for five minutes. In tho process I drove eight instructors to lifting the bowl of wine oftener than usual, ‘Land a ’plane,’ they would say, /why! it’s easy!’ And-so it is. > It’s as easy for a beginner as it is for a newrhum driver to steer his car through a six-foot gateway 20 consecutive times, at 70 miles an hour, without touching either side. And some young fellows who had just left school would he off solo after only six or seven hours’ drill. 'Sometimes I would despair. I’d make a perfect landing, but 50 feet above {the aerodrome. More usually the instructor' -would save by inches the ship and the crew, about to fly full-tilt into the wire fence. . . . Here was I making a W'l htful fuss about that portion of the game which can be described as “flying without tears.” Why! That

was nothing. I had to be back in i s New Zealand within six months from W ihe day I landed in England, at the end of July.”

PROGRESS AT LAST

■ tl . . . It was costing me £4 an hour for instruction. You might think that the pain of paying him £4 for 60 minutes in an aeroplane would, he sufficient sacrifice to provide yourself with 60 minutes of unalloyed hliss. No, sir, not at all. Before you have finished your course you will he seen with bended head, and hat in hand, humbly begging an instructor to allow you to present him with a trfling £4. However, learning to fly has its compensations. The day arrives when at last you make two three-point landings in succession. It is the same as being in love; your heart swells with love for your neighbour ; the drone of Cirrus engines no longer suggests incipient engine-knock at every heat; you forget your creditors; the world is at your feet, flyng is child’s play.. . • Next morning . . .- you set out for. the aerodrome with the nearest resemblance to a rush possible in I/ondon. Bursting with confidence, you board a ’plane. I reproduce some of the politer parts of the ensuing castigation: “ ‘Cut off your engine. Keep your eye all the time on . the spot where, you want to land. Widen your arc of approach as you are obviously overshooting. Watch the flying speed on .the turns. Try-to keep the speed at a steady 60 miles an hour when landing. You have slight rudder on all the time and left wing is low. Give your engine a short burst to see it’s all right. You have flat-..-jtened out much too soon. .JNo use a perfect landing 60 feet too high. Put on your engine and go round again.” round again.’ ‘‘Next time: “■‘Man alive, can’t you see you’re headed straight for that fence? More engine quickly. Watch that ’plane taxi-ing across the aerodrome. He ""' r has ■no right to move while we are landing, but you can’t run into him.’ “Bhmpl The wretched machine hits the ground and rebounds 15 feet into the air. ‘For the love of Mike put on your engine when you do tha,t and don’t wpie off your undercarriage by dropping back-stalled on to +hp deck ’ You then make the world s wcu-sh landing in a series of rabbitheps. The instructor (what a life.) inspects to see what damage has been “At last the time really did come when I was pronounced more' op less safe to pilot a ’bus solo. . . F™n that moment I was able to pick up things more * rapidly. ; X # apt acquiring an ‘A’ or mug-pi ° s enae. First to put m seven solo. The only- hardship....in. ... to translate it into £4 hour, Then the sealed baragraph, to do the 65UU feet height test.. At 7000 feet I passed through > solid belt of cloud which totally concealed' '•the -earth . from Spfi; \ S ,/-, 7 b 1 - .

*' K. , f When Mr. F. C. Chichester, the young -land agent from New Zealand, left England to fly to Australia, the newspaper reports made at appear that the flight was a very casual undertaking. It was not the fault of the newspapers that they gave that impression. Mr. Chichester “did not want to discuss his trip with people solely for fear of ridicule.” How different are the facts is demonstrated in an entertaining book which Mr Chichester has written about'' his flight. He Writes humorously with a practised hand, for one of his early ambitions was to be a novelist. Despite his light touch, however, the book gives a remarkable insight into the intense training and arduous preparation . which lie undertook before he left England.

that moment. But I desisted from climbing after 10,500 feet, because by then I had had enough to work out that it was costing me 1/9 every extra 100 feet I climbed.”

“PRIDE GOETH BEFORE. .” "On August 28, 1929, I secured my license. On September 8 I bought a Gipsy Moth .. . On the 11th I flew up to Liverpool, and thence on the 14th to visit my parents in North Devon. Here T. learned flying lesions numbers 17 and 18 I had been showing the lads of the village what a smart little iboy I was with a real live aeroplane. On renewing ;my acquaintance with terra firma I made a shocking landing on a rabbit burrow. . ! Wo came to test with drooping plumage like a winged partridge. In no time we constructed soap-box replicas of the original struts, not'to mention one or .• two additional ones which we* invented ourselves: Eighteen hours later we took to the air again. And a very nice repair, too. F.L. 17: Don’t try to impress an audience. F.L. 18: Don't land in a .cul-de-sac, whence you are unable to rise if you make a dud landing. “Next day I took our old gardener for a flight. When we landed again Wilkey said: ‘Do you realise what this date is, Master Francis?’ ‘No,’ said I. ‘Well,’ he replies, ‘this is your birthday. Twenty-eight years ago this day ’twas I that was sent to fetch the doctor to help you to make your first landing in this world. And I never did think that day, that 28 years later you’d be taking me up in an aeroplane.’

“Two days later the time arrived for me to set out once more for Brooklands. Back we scudded at the rate of knots. With this flight I had definitely passed the extreme novice stage, when, flying is 93 per cent wear, tear, and fear, and exciting all the time. From now on it changed to 5 per cent great exhilaration, 10 per cent blue funk, 15 per cent placid enjoyment, 40 per cent fatigue and tedium. At the same, time there was still an undercurrent of excitement all the while. Of course, to get the 5 per cent it is well worth putting up with the other 95 per cent., otherwise no one would fly. . .It is good sport landing in a strong wind. ... I flew the machine in carefully and came successfully to a halt. Fine! I felt proud of my piece of work There is some proverb about pride. I began taxi-ing towards the hangars. This necessitated travelling across wind. I had the interesting of seeing the port wing-tip dip slowly and gracefully to the ground. Unable to dip farther, the lip slowly crumpled up. The other wing rose equally slowly till the whole, machine balanced itself on tho port wing-tip. Thence it seemed to take a leap into the air, landing fair and square on its nose, with the tail sticking up vertically towards heaven. I found myself in the undignified position of dangling in the safety belt,, and looking down at the ground 10ft. below. End of Flying Lesson No. 19. Price £75.”

A “KUSH ROUND EUROPE.” Mr Chichester determined to ‘‘crush round Europe” for experience. He still owed money on the machine, so it had to be insured. Captain Lamplugh, who underwrote the risk, insisted that Mr Chichester should take an experienced pilot* Joe King, with him. “From the word ‘Go!’ on October 25 that trip was ‘-great sport,” says Mr Chichester.’ ' ‘Let her go,’ says Joe King, pushing the throttle full open. He being an experienced pilot, I -'assumed ho wished to take the ’plane'himself, and then we'only just cleared tho trees on St. George’s Hill by a foot or two. However, I didn’t bother, as that-• was in keeping with Joe’s style. . , “ ‘Hey I’ roared a voice through the telephone, ‘what on earth aro you doing?’ “ ‘Doing,’ I replied indignantly,, ‘why, I’m not touching any of the controls.” - “ ‘Nor am I,” says Joe. “Joe slept most of the way to Paris, but he did . not go any farther. At Paris he found an old business friend'. Not having seen her for a long time, there were such arrears of business correspondence to make up that he remained,’ and I carried on solo.” In 25 days Mr Chichester visited eight countries, and of 28 landings,' eight were made in fields. The . 'following is a translation of a paragraph which appeared in the “Bukaresti Dimineata” of November 14, 1929,'' while, he was in Roumania: r ' >. . . .■ - . ■ '-‘JASSY, Nov. 12. - “An English aeroplape landed

hero yesterday for a short visit, piloted by Mr Chicesero, of New Zealand, director of the Gddvin Chicesterc Aviation Company, of London. - “Mir Chictesterc is flying one of the company’s ’planes. He left New Zealand last week, touched at London, then at Paris, where he picked up another aviator. Ho continued over Milan to Jugo-Sla-via. Then on approaching Z»greb his propeller broke at a height of some hundreds of .feet, and the aviators were in great danger. The pilot succeeded in landing near the ’Zagreb airport, and after repairs continued towards Roumania.” After that Mr Chichester was surely entitled to feel that he was qualified to essay the flight to Australia. His account of that' flight, which occupied 17 days in flying time, is a splendid story, which not only tells of great (courage and infinite resource, hut also • reveals a man of a most amiable-nature., with not a little of the poet in his make-up.