BY AIR TO AUSTRALIA.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXV, Issue 19931, 27 April 1928, Page 14

BY AIR TO AUSTRALIA.

FLIGHT OF THE RED ROSE. MRS. MILLER'S NARRATIVE. A WOMAN'S HAZARDOUS TRIP. FIRST STAGES OF THE JOURNEY.

BY SEES, KEITH MILLER. (Copyright.) t No. I. TBelow appears the first of ten articles written l)y Mrs. Keith Miller, the first woman to make the long and hazardous flight from England to Australiu. Mrs. Miller flew ns passenger with Captain W. N. Lancaster, who piloted the neroplune th« Red Rose. In her opening article Mrs. Miller tells of the departure from London last October, and the first stages of the flight half acro=s the world. Publication of the articles will be continued daily.]

This air Journey to Australia was Captain Lancaster's idea. Ever since the war days in France he had dreamed of the time when he would hop off in London and land in Melbourne. Ho had kept the idea at the back of his mind, but always it was a solo flight for which he wanted money. The possibility of a passenger never entered into the scheme of things.

Five months before I left Croydon in the Red Rose Captain Lancaster told me of his desire. Five months after leaving Croydon we landed in Darwin—the desire accomplished.

As soon as I heard the scheme I was interested. The journey appealed to my craving for adventure and travel. We formed a partnership and shook hands on it. I put all the money I possessed into it, and when we were stuck, and found we couldn't raise enough money for the machine, Captain Lancaster's mother came to the rescue and helped us through. We named the machine "The Red Rose" after her, as she was known as Sister Red Rose in a charitable mission.

jTlllionaires who seem to find it difficult to spend their money wisely should remember airmen occasionally. Flights simply eat up cash. It is not only for the purchase of the machine that funds are required. Thero arc thousands of things to be paid for. It's like a dressmaker's hill; you bargain on so much for the making of the frock, and then discover that extras have mounted up without your notice.

There sisemed such a terrible lot of organisation to do that 1 didn't think about my own flying luggage until quite late, and I was faced with the problem of trying to keep down weight, and yet have all necessities with me in the aeroplane.

Flying Light. When I contrast the luggage 1 took with me from Melbourne, and the gear I ... - brought back with me from London. I am inclined to smile. Really, though, women make far too much fuss about frocks and hats, and now that I am back in Australia, and have to wear skirts instead of shorts,. 1 find I have lost a lot of my " former interest in clothes. All the luggage with which I left London fitted into a small leather bag such as those made by the various handi- . crafts associations. In it I stuffed a sponge bag containing a tube of toothpaste, a toothbrush, and one small cake of soap; one change of underclothing (the lightest possible), one clean pair of socks, •, one pair of shorts, a small comb and a -iu- one paij- of silk stockings, one clean shirt, mirror; one small box of powder, one pair of satin evening shoes, and one frock—an evening gown of black ninon and lace, which came up on the journey like a recurring decimal. Brogues and ~ breeches I was wearing. The tiny tairror was used for timing the magnetos, and later it got broken, so that I was left without a looking- - • ffliec \{\r VtQi** liucn'f lionn linieliofl tinpii

glass. My hair hasn't been brushed sine* _ w .f left England, and it has been cut by every kind of camp barber in Europe and - Asia.

People have asked me how flying af- ; fected my complexion. I find that it is beneficial rather than harmful, as fresh »i/ is the best tonic I know of. But all this is getting ahead of myself. W T e arc still in London, preparing for the r journey. The Red Rose came from Manchester to Croydon, accompanied by Mrs. Elliot Lynn, now Lady Heath, flying a siinUar machine. Our plane is the same tyjlP as Hinkler's, but his has been prepared for greater speed, and has a much lamer fuel capacity. When Captain Lancaster told Sir Keith Smith in London about the flight, he said, "Oh, well, it is a very good way in which to commit suicide." But it looked as if Sir Keith didn't want us to come to an £ untimely end, for he gave us all the advice and help he possibly could. The Day of Departure.

At last came the day of departure. We were keyed up with enthusiasm and anticipation. What did the dav3 hold for us ? New countries, new people, the excitement of being each hour a little closer to Australia. We were able to write in the log book of the G-EBTU: "October 14— Commenced flight to Australia from Croydon Aerodrome." It was a great moment. We had £25 in our pockets, but in our hearts was optimism and that thrill of commencing on a stupendous adventure. The morning was very foggy, but Lady Ryrie and her daughter came to the aerodrome and wished us God-speed. A bowl of fragrant, scarlet petals was then scattered over the machine, and as each softly curling petal fluttered to the ground it %vas named the Red Rose, and ail was. ready for the start. We carried letters from Sir flranville Ryrie to the Prime Minister, and others from Sir Sefton Braneker, and despite all the' bad lnck which dogged our trip, they have been delivered. We hung round C'rovdon aerodrome all morning, keen to be away, in spite of the bad weather. But we were not allowed to depart, and those hours of waiting seemed the most fretful of the whole journey. At half-past two the fog lifted, and we started off. after receiving the advice that it would be unwise to make for Paris that day, but to spend the night at Abbeville. We were escortpd by Captain N. Stack to Lympne, where we had to land to clear Customs. Days of Dirty Weather.

At last we were really on our way! . Visibility was very bad from Folkestone to Abbeville, and the fog wn« so thick that we saw no water at all. We arrived at Abbeville at nightfall, beloved by many Australians for its horseflesh steaks, and there were -no lights at the aerodrome to show us where to land. We came down in a small field near the town, and carried our hiKKace to the aerodrome. It seemed unreal, somehow. Two hours from England, not yet in Paris, yet. definitely on the flirrht to Australia. Mv mind was a confusion of hopes, ambitions and great desires that night in ouaint old Abbeville, with its busy ancient Europe market-place. Next morning, shortly after half-past nine, we were on the way to Paris. After leaving lovely Beauvais, with its gorpeons cathedral, behind, we saw a hip; French air-liner,on the ground in a small field. All the passengers were standing round We circled once and saw that it was only «v forced landing, and the passengers waved to us that everything was all right. Forced landings seem quite casual in view of the greater catastrophes which ran happen, and they never worry me now. We were met at Le Bourget, in Paris, l>y the Imperial Airways pilots, who gave Us a very wonderful time. Filling up and looking over the engine occupied the day, but our thoughts were on the mowow. Bad weather continued to accompany • * bava heard of people pursuing the fepring through Europe—working up tbr«agh Spain to the Northlands so that winUr'* fc«ath never touches thorn. It tfe. •. -

seemed to me an if all the fogs of the world were dogging our propeller, and -we had filthy weather after leaving Paris. We flew on our compass for 120 miles, and for 2£ hours wo couldn't see anything. Blinding rain added to our troubles, and the machine had a good buffeting before the clouds cleared near Dijon, We landed at Lyons and recovered our breath.

A Glimpse of the Sun. At eleven o'clock next morning the machine left for Marseilles, where we saw the sun for the first time on the journey. It was a very bumpy trip, as there were quite a lot of cross winds down the wonderful Rhone Valley, with every hill crowned with a castle or a church. At one stage we dropped 300 ft. sheer, and 1 was shot right up from my seat on to the centra section, and came down with a most awful whack. At Marseilles, with its crowded quays, French aviators helped us to look over tho machine. The Mediterranean was our first glimpse of blue water, and it seemed a good omen after all the fog and grey weather We had encountered.

A very Amusing thing happened at Marseilles. The aerodrome is a long way from the city, which backs into the foothills, and we had a train journey after w/> had stabled the machine. I was ravenously hungry, and we were taken to a funny little peasant place, where fowls walked round unconcernedly and got tangled lip with our feet. Sardines and onions, thick hunks of bread and cheese, and very bad French wine, which tasted lika vinegar, were spread before us, hut didn't stay there long. Afterwards we had about a mile to walk to get the bus back to the railway for Marseilles, and our speed was hampered, by a flock of sheep and goats which pot mixed up with ns and our luggage. The sight of the bus in the distance didn't upset tho herds, but it made us do a sprint in order to catch it. Marseilles to Rome.

The next morning we set off for a non-stop run to Pisa. We Hew over Cannes and Nice, courting the sea practically all the way. It is very ugly flying country, as the mountains come right down to the water's edge. We ran into fogs again, and had to come down to see just where this bright blue Mediterranean was. Even the noso of the machine was invisible, I began to have my doubts as to whether or not all the sun was in Australia, and hoped that wo would striko a little warmth and brightness as we got further south. On arrival in Pisa wo greeted the Leaning Tower by circling it, and tho famous landmark looked wonderful from tho air. We landed in the afternoon, and were the guests of the Italian Air Force, who were most hospitable; but even all their kindness couldn't alter the churlishness of the weather. It rained hard during the early part of the following day, but cleared for a while just before lunch-time. Captain Lancaster decided to push on to Rome, hut the break in the weather did not last for long. After flying for fifteen minutes we ran into heavy cloudbanks and rain, so landed at Vaccina, a little aerodrome on the coast of Italy, for a breather. The officers took us along to the mess, played the niano, and gave us a perfectly topping half-hour. We were anxious to reach Rome, however, so pushed off again in the rain, and came down before dark. Rome from the air still keeps something of its ancient glory, and the innumerable bridges spanning tho Tiber seemed like so many clips cutting a silver ribbon into sections. Tho city which has been the centre of so much world-shaking history could be encompassed within the far-reaching vision of the eye, and not even the Caesars dreamed of such an anoroach as ours to their City on Seven Hills. Adventures in Italy.

We were very sorry to leave Rome, and would have liked to have seen more of that historic city, but felt we must push on as quickly as we could, so left next morning for Naples. All the time we were in Italy the Italian Air Force gave us all possible help and courtesy. The president of the Aero Club in Naples took us for a delightful drive, and we were most interested in the little, narrow streets, where there is hardly room to pass. Washing flapped above our heads on lines strung from window to window across the lanes. As a return compliment Captain Lancaster to<jk the president for a flight, which he appreciated greatly. Soon after leaving Naples for Catania we found ourselves close to Mount Vesuvius, from which smoke curled as from an evil pot. In Catania we received from Mussolini, by special messenger, good wishes for a successful trip and all sorts of ornod luck.

The Italians had written "Viva Mussolini" all over our machine. Signor Balboa, Minister for Air, also came to the aerodrome to speed us on our way. Just before we started for Malta I was sitting in the rear cockpit, pumping up petrol with a hand pump. I caught my knuckles on the side of the machine, and they started to bleed profusely. The Italians kindly came to the rescue with a bottle of iodine,' .Tust at this moment Signor Balboa came to bid us farewell. Tie shook hands with Captain Lancaster, and before I realised what was happening ho gallantly bent down and kissed my hand. Imagine my horror when I saw that his mouth was covered with blood and iodine. However, the age of chivalry is not yet past, and His Excellency saved me from embarrassment by smiling. We left our kind friends, the Italians, and started off for Malta.