JEAN THE HEROINE

Taranaki Daily News, 2 June 1934, Page 5

JEAN THE HEROINE

perils of the flight thrilling log story “TERRIFYING EXPERIENCE” “There is no doubt that I was in real peril in the monsoons and sandstorms, but getting through these troubles leaves One no time to think of personal dangers,” said Miss Jean Batten on the morning after her arrival at Darwin, when discussing her log, which is an amazingly plain tale of grit and determination. • “I can honestly say that I never felt nervous once, arid actually enjoyed the . greater part of the flight, especially the last hop over the Timor to Darwin, added the 24-years-old record-breaker. Simple, and without comment, Miss Batten’s log tells of a day over the sea on the hop to Cyprus, of blistering heat of 140 degrees over the desert, of hours of peril when a pipe burst and sprayed her with hot oil as she neared Allahabad, threatening a forced landing; of blind flying in a monsoon after Rangoon, with an engine that was mis-firing. And yet Miss Batten says: I was never conscious of feeling very tired. Even tonight I feel that it will be no strain to fly all day to-morrow. I have not felt it a gruelling trip. I feel that all the effort was well worth while now that I have broken the women’s record. How long I will hold the record is another question. Record-breaking is principally a matter of personal determination. ' Miss Batten was on the aerodrome well before dawn on the morning after reaching Darwin, personally overhauling her machine by the light of a pocket electric torch. As soon as it was light enough to take off she swung her propeller herself and made business-like preparations to get away on her flight across the Australian continent. STORY TOLD BY LOG. The following are extracts from Miss Batten’s log as published by the Sydney Sun:— May 11: Took off at Cyprus at 5.30 a.m. for Damascus. 8.30: Snowcaps .of mountains of Lebanon in sight, rising 12,000 feet sheer from the plain. Too high to cross and too dangerous to try, because down-draughts would wreck the plane. Altering course to fly round them. 11 a.m.: Round Lebanons at last, and in sight of Damascus. 1 p.m.: Off again after delays. Had to leave my suit at Damascus to cut down weight and give the plane a better chance to climb into rarified air. I. p.m.: Air Force plane has just turned back after escorting me over first 30 miles of the desert. Am making for Fort Rutvah—a little French outpost in the middle of the Syrian Desert. 2 p.m.: The first sandstorm: A terrifying experience. Had to fly blind through it for half an hour. It is impossible to climb. Choking sand is everywhere. 4 pun.: Down at Fort Rutvah for a wash. 5 p.m.: Back at Fort Rutvah for the night Had to turn back because of bigger sandstorms. Day’s run, 620 miles. May 12: Left Fort Rutvah at 6.30 a.m. end reached Bagdad at 10.30, after a bad trip. Sandstorms alternated with the first of the monsoonal rainstorms all the way. Noon: Off from Bagdad. More storms in the distance. 2 p.m.: Flying over ancient Babylon, but very little to be seen except huge mounds. Storms are getting worse. Flying only 40ft. above the railway line, but lost sight of it in the last storm. 4 p.m.: Reached Basra, where Air Force is welding cracked pipe. Day’s run, 600 miles. . "LIKE A FURNACE BLAST.” May 16: Left Allahabad at dawn for Calcutta, but temperature climbed to 140 in the' sun at noon. Face blistered and air like a furnace blast. Half an hour from Calcutta an oiL pipe burst and sprayed everything with hot oil. Thought I would have to make a forced landing, but pressure remained constant, so carried on, pumping out stream of dirty oil all the way. Engine was terribly hot but carried me safely to Calcutta. Landed with only three quarts of oil left. Day’s run, 500 miles. May 17: Calcutta to Rangoon: Refuelling at Akyab. Three Aero Club machines escorted me over first 30 miles across Sunderbund’s swamp and jungle. Crossed Aralcan Yom as Mountains. Day’s run, 760 miles. . May 18: Left Rangoon in threatening weather at daylight. Weather much worse than I imagined it could be. Struck monsoonal storms about half an hour in air. Rain is terrible, falling in icy black sheets. Almost like flying from day into night. It is so dark that I cannot see instruments on the dashboard, and am flying blind for scores of miles at a time. Got down to 40ft. above water but cannot see coast and have to depend on instruments alone. Rain is teeming down in stinging sheets. Cockpit floor swimming in water. Cannot get out of drain-hole quick enough. Am wet and uncomfortable. WATER IN THE PETROL. 11. Engine misfiring with water in petrol. Serious, because no landing ground anywhere, and cannot see land. 11.50: Engine picking up again and hopes rising. Noon: More misfiring, but carburetter seems to be clearing. A break of sunshine. 2 p.m.: Following the coast, but losing sight of it for half an hour at a time in interminable rain. 4 p.m.: Down at Victoria Point at last. Day’s run, 600 miles. ' May 19; 7 aun.: Got off safely after sticking in mud in patches. Am well on way ’to Singapore, after anxious few minutes in mud at Alor Star for refuelling. Down at Singapore well before dark. Day’s run 770 miles. May 20: Left Singapore 7 a.m. 9. a.m.: Above Sumatra. Can see great crocodiles sunning on the river banks slithering off into water when I fly low. Would not like to land among those brutes. 3 p.m.: Down at Batavia. Day’s run, 610 miles. May 21: Another dawn to dark flight. Left Batavia 7 a.m. Reached Rambang at noon. Off again at 1 p.m. and arrived at Lombok at 5 p.m. Head winds all day. Day’s run, 740 miles. May 22: Feeling a bit tired after working pn engine last night at Lombok. No one there who knew anything about machine, so had to do it myself. Got away at 7.30 a.m. and reached Koepang at 2 p.m. 6 p.m.: Just finished overhauling engine and ’plane for to-morrow’s hop across Timor. Day’s run, 550 miles. ON THE FINAL “HOP.” May 23: Off on final hop at last, and feeling wonderfully thrilled that the record is in sight. Have no collapsible boat like “Scotty” or parachute like Amy Johnson, but I am not thinking of those things. Feel nothing can go wrong now. Engine purring along beautifully. The sun is shining brightly and the sea gloriously calm. It is quite peaceful and wonderfully restful. 11 a.m.: Wind seems to have dropped, but do not like to alter course, for fear I might be out in my reckoning. Will wait until I sight Australia. 2 p.m.: Still going well and making good time. Should sight land soon. 2.30 p.m.: Hooray! Australia in sight. Nearly there at last. 2.50 p.m.: Drifted a little bit south of course, turning north for Darwin,