ROMANCE OF THE AIR.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVIII, Issue 20987, 25 September 1931, Page 11

ROMANCE OF THE AIR.

SOUTHERN CROSS' FEATS. ARRIVAL AT HONOLULU. THE START FOR SUVA. / ON "THE LONG, LONG TRAIL." BT Aia-COJIiIODORE KXN'GSrORD SMITH. (Copyright.) No. VI. A lightening of the eastern horizon heralded the dawn a few minutes before six. It was very chilly; we were flying afc over 6000 ft. at, this time to keep above the clouds and the ocean was concealed from sight. All through the night, as our load had been decreasing, we had been steadily increasing our altitude to get above the clouds. The new day cheered us np; we were flying on, and a growing sense of triumph and elation filled us. I was able now to bring the plane down by easy stages from 7500 ft. to 1250ffc. * J We now began to look out for the land and frequently thought we had sighted one or more of the Mant islands which form the group. Suddenly—it was 10.52 a.m.—the real terra firma did appear far away on the port bow. As we approached* ib did not dissolve like the other apparitions, but stayed "put." <Jt was the | lofty peak of Mauna Kea, snow-capped, { 12 : 0C0lt. high. Almost immediately after- ■ wards, other landmarks swam into our j ken, and soon the bold promontory of j Diamond Head guided us in toward i Wheeler Fieid. | We passed over Honolulu, gleaming I white in the sunlight below us. and • headed on the last lap to Wheeler Field, 22 miles away. Soon the Southern Cross glided down, and I taxied the machine up to the position indicated by one of the United States Army Air Force men and switched off all three engines. This was at 12.17 p.m. The Arduous Flight Afiead. So far, so good, but this was only the first of three stages, aud the second and most arduous lay ahead—the longest ocean flight ever attempted. Before we went to bed at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel, where we were the guests of the manager, Mr. Cost, we had a conference with Major Miller, who was in charge of Wheeler Field aerodrome, and Captain Lowell Smith, the first round-the-world flier, as to our immediate Requirements. These included an overhaul i of the motors, the draining of our petrol tanks so that we could measure what remained, and thus ascertain our hourly consumption from Oakland, arrangements for our take-off, and some inquiries about the Phoenix Islands, which lay on our route to Suva. Wheeler Field was good for landing, but Barking Sands—so called because of the peculiar noise made by the sand—was better for our take-off. We had already arranged for a supply of petrol to be there, and on the afternoon following our landing I climbed into the Southern Cross once more, to take her on the . short flight of 90 miles to the beach on Kauai Island. I landed there without difficulty at six o'clock. An inspection of the beach reassured me, for it was in much better condition than I had expected. A gang of men had cleared a runway of 4500 ft. since, for our load of 1500 gallons of petrol, I judged that we should not be clear of the ground until the plane had travelled at least 5500 ft. The weather reports were satisfactory, and we were anxious to push on, despite the doleful prediction of a number of people that the next stage would prove our undoing. "A Dot on the Map." We rose at 3 a.m., and drove to th«» beach. It was a warm and rather muggy morning; the air was still, the sea calm and the moon was bright as we cliipbed into the cockpit to warm up the motors. At 5.20 I gave the signal for the start. Lowell Smith had gone ahead and was standing at the 3500 mark on the runway as a guide fop our take off. The Southern Cross dashed along the beach in beautiful style, and when still 100 ft. short of Lowell Smith she lifted hi to the air, and we were off. But the next moment my confidence was rudely disturbed. Wo had only cb'mbed about 300 ft. when we struck a series of off-shore bumps which made the plana bounce and jerk in a most alarming manner in our heavily-laden condition. For a few moments it needed the greatest care to ease the jolts, bub they scon passed, and we settled down on our course on the long, long trail. Everything now depended on the accuracy of onr navigation, for-we were making "a long shot at a dot on the map," and that dot was over 5000 miles away. Fortunately from Wheeler Field they were still sending out a radio beam to guide us on the way, and we to carry this helpful buzz for about 700 miles on the new stage. The weather was magnificent, the sea was an oily calm; the sun was shining and I was able to fly low at about 600ffc., thus conserving our petrol. Wireless Out of Action. Now we were buzzing along at 500 ft. and making 80 knots. I was worried by the clouds ahead, which looked like rain, and I could not spare petrol to climb above it, nor did I like the thought of flying low in our over-laden state. Whiia my thoughts were busy with these possibilities, Warner passed through a note. He had lost the buzz of the radio beam from Wheeler Field, and we were only three hours out! But worse was to follow, for shortly after 10 a.m., Warner passed through another note to say that the wireless was completely out of action. I did not like this at all, for we were now cut off from the world entirely, but somehow I felt that Wasner would get the radio going asjnin. and sure enough he did. About three hours later he passed through another note: ''Both transmitters working 0.K." Meantime the breeze was freshening, and was helping us along, so that I estimated our ground speed must be at least SO knots, which was very gratifying. But the weather was deteriorating, and soon we were bucking into rain storms, trying to dodge them, flying round them and up and through them. This was very trying, for at times we were flying '"blind." and the climbing was taking toll of our petrol. This blind flying in rain storms was a very unpleasant feature of our various long-distance flights in the Southern Cross. Relief From Another Fright. At noon Lyon reported that we had made good 650 nautical miles. Our average speed over the ground was still maintained at SO knots and despite the rainstorms we were getting along well. Then we had another fright. About half-past three that afternoon the starboard motor suddenly coughed. It was the first time since we had left Oakland that the monotonous roar of the engines had been interrupted by even so slight a sound. A tremendous cough was followed by a splutter and kick. Then it ! died away and the engines roared ou. Again we heard it. What could it be? We were nearly a thousand miles from | the nearest land; we were in mid-ocean—-lan ocean which, viewed from | looked grim and menacing. The i and splutter continued for about eig minutes. Then it ceased. To this day I have never been certain m my own mad. What caused the temporary irregulanty. but probably a minute speck of come foreign substance had passed th™ petrol filter caused a passu* turbenoa h v