ROOK ABANDONS FLIGHT IN MOTH TO AUSTRALIA.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 18188, 22 June 1927, Page 1

ROOK ABANDONS FLIGHT IN MOTH TO AUSTRALIA.

DAMAGES TAIL-SKID IN KARACHI LANDING. By Telegraph.—Pres* Assn.— Copyright. Aus. and N.Z. Cable Association. (Received June 22, 9.15 a.m.) KARACHI, June 21. Dennis Rook, landing in semi-dark-ness damaged the tail-skid which will necessitate a week’s delay. LONDON, June 21. j Owing to damage to his machine and also because of the monsoon, Rook i has abandoned his flight to Australia. For a bet Dennis Rook undertook to fly to Australia in a Moth plane. Without any warning he landed at Croydon aerodrome, London, one evening and told the mechanics to tune the machine up as he was leaving for Australia the next morning. Below is a sketch from the „ Melbourne “ Ilerald ” by Dr J. Noel Brown, of Ouyen, who made the acquaintance of Rook on board ship, and who pictures him as a lovable Don Quixote. I made the acquaintance of Dennis Rook while a ship’s surgeon on an overseas tramp, and spent many fascinating hours in the company of this modern Don Quixote. Cultured and debonair, with an immaculate accent, he joined our boat in Adelaide. He apparently came from the clouds, but inquiries elicited that he had just arrived on an English tramp and wanted to work his passage to Fremantle. As he had assisted the company on one occasion during a strike by helping to fire a boat around the coast, a compassionate skipper gave him a passage. He donned a pair of old dungarees during the day, and worked on deck, cleaning, chipping and painting. lie had a mate’s certificate, so he dined with us in the officers’ mess. He occupied one of the few state cabins. Casual conversation led to the unravelling of the most fascinating life history I have heard. His knowledge of Australia would make the average cityite blush. He has “ overlanded ” from Darwin to the north-west coast of West Australia; he has been in a drover’s camp for two months; overland from the Northern Territory to Charleville (Queensland) ; he has broken road metal and driven a baker’s cart in Broken Hill. lie is a son of a retired Indian Army doctor, of Brighton, England. He served in the Royal Flying Corps, the Field Artillery, and, towards the close of the war, in the Tank Corps. It was owing to his experience in this branch that, he devised a caterpillar type of tractor for hauling timber in West Australia. He was optimistic that the West Australian Government would take it up after the war. He was for a time an instructor in civil aviation in an aerodrome in India, and his knowledge of Indian life and conditions was inexhaustible. Ambitions for some occupation that might prove more financial he found his ■way to Australia, presumably in his usual way—that is, as an A.B. or a quartermaster. ( He chartered—or bought, I forget which—a small barquentine of a few hundred tons, named “ The Rachel Cohen.” He got together a scratch crew, including a mate with a master’s ticket, and started trading up the northwest coast in admittedly some of its most unknown and dangerous waters. The Rachel Cohen went up in flames in Darwin Harbour, while only a few aboriginals were on board. Rook -watched from shore all his worldly assets disappearing in smoke. The Court of Marine Inquiry refused to clear him, and he was actually charged with arson. His story of his trial, if I fully recounted it, would prove too 'Gilbertian, but he related it with the utmost nonchalance and humour. He was forced to stowaway on a boat to Thursday Island, where he met an erstwhile college pal working oh the jetty among a polyglot crowd. He stowed away again—I won’t mention the vessel, but it is a well-known trader. He was put off at Cairns in a pair of dungarees and little else. Then followed a tramp through the sugarcane fields. This he admits was the cruellest thing he had been through. He evidently had a wretched experience among the Italian fanners in those parts, because he could get neither food nor work. He had a few pineapples and some water for four whole days. Eventually he reached a certain town, and owing to his experience and mechanical knowledge got employment in a garage and remained there some months. There is a certain garage in Melbourne that will remember him. My last few hours with “ Rookie ” I spent at luncheon at the Savoy Hotel, Perth. Accompanied by his most charming fiancee, a well-known Perth girl, he regaled us by telling how he drove the London-to-Brighton express during the general strike in England. This is one of the fastest scheduled trains in the world, and “ Rookie,” on his first run, accompanied by an old guard who knew the signals, ran the train into Brighton only three minutes behind time. I must confess that at first I am ashamed to say, we, his companions on that tramp steamer, were a little sceptical. However, one long evening J spent in his cabin viewing documents and the most amazing photos of aboriginal life I have ever seen, invaluable snaps of tanks and aeroplanes in action, etc., made me feel very contrite. Now for the man himself. He is tall and slight, with a small moustache and a voice that recalls a West End hotel lounge. lie swings along beside one immaculate in spats and with walking stick cheerily talking about the latest novel. lie is exceptionally well read, and in hisvmeagre kit one found such contrasting literature as Masefield’s ‘Everlasting Mercy’ and Francis Thompson’s poems.