CHAPTER V
FIRST ATTEMPT TO FLY ROUND BRITAIN
The Task of the Flight Round Britain—And the Machine for the Job—Public Interest in the Pilot—“Good Luck!”—The Night Before the Start—A Mayor’s Early Call—And the Sequel—The Scene at the Start—To Ramsgate at Sixty Miles per Hour—An Aerial Escort—The Ramsgate Cup—Fog in the Thames Mouth—To Yarmouth in Next to No Time—Harry Collapses—Pickles Relieves Him—And Meets with Misfortune—Starting All Over Again.
CHAPTER V
Before the start of the Seaplane Circuit of Britain considerable doubt was expressed as to whether or not the competitors would be able to complete the course in the 72 hours allowed. That the task would not be easy was gauged from the fact that an air route following a coast-line is by no means a desirable one, seeing that fog is apt to congregate there, and the proximity of cliffs promotes a tiresome, and perhaps treacherous, “bumpiness” in the air. In these respects the essaying of a flight of 1,500 miles round the coast probably involved a more severe trial of pilot and machine than a flight across the Atlantic Ocean.
That recreative contributor, “The Dreamer,” in Flight, July 26th, 1913, wrote:
“As the time for the start of the Round Britain race draws near, I am given to wondering what the result will be: whether any one of the four pilots who have entered will get through within the time. It is possible, of course, that one or even more may do so, but it is to be a great fight and the adventures are likely to be many and varied. Flying has progressed considerably since the last circuit of Britain, and taking into consideration the long-distance flights now made almost weekly, it would hardly be safe to prophesy entire failure. However, to take an aeroplane round the coast of England and Scotland, with a call at Ireland, is no child’s play, and should luck be against our brave pilots and they fail to complete the course in the time allowed, or even do not get round at all, they will yet have done an infinite amount of good to aviation. The mere fact that they have entered at all, and that they have faith in the machines they fly to accomplish such a journey, is most praiseworthy, especially when it is borne in mind that at least three out of the four are flying machines of their own design and construction, and the fourth, although he cannot quite be bracketed in these conditions, has a very high place in the realms of aviation. The more so, that he is an amateur enthusiast first and last. Given suitable weather, I should not be greatly surprised, and should be immensely pleased, to hear that all four had completed the course. Should any one of them manage it in the stipulated time, aviation, including the building of English engines, should receive a fillip the value of which is almost incalculable. Messrs. McClean—Cody—Sopwith—Radley, here’s good luck to you; your pluck is appreciated in the whole world of aviation.”
The machine which Harry piloted in the Round-Britain Seaplane Circuit was of the tractor type. Indeed, its design and construction followed the lines of the standard 80 h.p. Gnome-engined tractor biplane which had been doing so well previously, necessary modifications being introduced to suit the 100 h.p. Green engine and floats provided in place of the land chassis. These modifications gave the fuselage, or body of the machine, a more tapered nose than the land machine and perhaps a prettier appearance. It was the success of his tractor biplanes that prompted Sopwith to enter a machine of this type in preference to one of his Bat Boats. Kauper’s seat was in front of Harry’s, and the control was by a wheel mounted on the “joy-stick,” rotation of the wheel operating the ailerons, or lateral balancers, and a fore-and-aft movement of the lever working the elevator. The rudder was operated by the orthodox foot-bar. The petrol-and oil-tanks, each holding 45 and 10 gallons respectively, were installed under the passenger’s seat about the centre of gravity, so that as the fuel and oil was consumed Harry felt no extra strain on the controls, which would have been the case had the machine not been so balanced. By kind permission of the proprietors of Flight I am able to reproduce the following from a description of the machine, which appeared in their journal on August 16th, 1913.
“Having already achieved such remarkable success with his tractor-type land machine, Mr. Sopwith decided to enter a biplane of this type, fitted, of course, with floats instead of wheels, for the Daily Mail Race Round Britain, in preference to one of the Bat Boat type, and, in consideration of the large open stretches of sea which have to be negotiated, we are inclined to think that he has chosen wisely.
“In its general outlines, this machine possesses the same smart, business-looking appearance which characterises the land machines, further enhanced, perhaps, by the tapering nose of the fuselage, allowed of by the installation of a 100 h.p. six-cylinder vertical type British Green engine, instead of the 80 h.p. Gnome motor with which the land machines are usually fitted. The fuselage, which is of rectangular section, is built up in the usual way of four longerons of ash, connected by struts and cross-members. In the rear part of the body these are made of spruce, while in front, where the weight of the pilot, passenger, and engine is concentrated, and where, therefore, greater strength is required, these members are made of ash. The main planes, which are very strongly built over main spars of solid spruce of I section, are slightly staggered, and are also set at a dihedral angle in order to give the machine a certain amount of lateral stability. From a point just behind the pilot’s seat back to the rudder-post the fuselage is covered in with fabric, whilst the front portion is covered with aluminium, forming on top of the nose of the fuselage a very neat and cleanly designed cover over the motor....
“The main floats, which have been built by the Sopwith Aviation Company, are of the single-step type and are built up of a framework of ash and spruce covered with a double skin of cedar. Two bulkheads divide the floats into three watertight compartments, so that should a float become damaged, causing one compartment to leak, the other two would still have sufficient buoyancy to prevent the float from sinking very deeply into the water. Two pairs of inverted V struts connect each float with a lower main plane, while another pair of struts running to the front part of the fuselage help to take the weight of the engine. Spruce is the material used for chassis as well as plane-struts, the latter being hollowed out for lightness.
“Inside the comparatively deep fuselage, where ample protection against the wind is afforded to pilot and passenger, are the two seats, arranged tandem fashion, the pilot occupying the rear seat. In front of him are the controls, which consist of a rotatable hand-wheel, mounted on a single central tubular column. Rotation of the wheel operates the ailerons, which are fitted to both top and bottom planes, and which are interconnected. A fore-and-aft movement operates the elevator, while a foot-bar actuates the rudder. It should be noticed that the control cables are only exposed to the effects of the air and salt water for a very short length, the elevator cables entering the body just in front of the fixed tail-plane and the rudder cables a couple of feet from the rudder-post. The engine is supplied with petrol and oil from tanks situated under the passenger’s seat, the capacity of the tanks being 45 gallons and 10 gallons respectively.
“For the purpose of easy egress in case of a smash, the centre portion of the top plane has been left uncovered. In order to minimise end losses due to the air leaking out of the opening thus produced, what might be called baffle-plates have been fitted to the inner ends of the wing. These baffle-plates have been made streamline in section, as it was found that an ordinary thin board would bend owing to the pressure of the air trying to escape past it. With full load of fuel and passengers on board the weight of the machine is 2,400 lbs., and her flying speed is 60 to 65 m.p.h.”
Before the start of the Round-Britain Seaplane Circuit Harry was inundated with messages from unknown correspondents, and, in order to be spared the attentions of the public, he stayed aboard a yacht while not tending his machine.
As a starting and finishing base for the Seaplane Circuit, the Royal Motor Yacht Club very kindly lent to the Royal Aero Club their floating club-house, the Enchantress. Among those on board on the occasion of the start were Sir Thomas Lipton, Colonel Holden, C.B., Commander Cummings, Major Lindsay Lloyd, Major Stephens (secretary of the Royal Motor Yacht Club), Captain Robinson, the Mayor of Southampton, the Sheriff of Southampton, Mr. and Mrs. James Valentine, Mr. W. B. R. Moorhouse, Mr. J. H. Ledeboer, Mr. Thomas Marlowe (Editor of the Daily Mail), Mr. Hamilton Fyfe, and Mr. Harold E. Perrin (secretary of the Royal Aero Club). Prior to the race, Harry’s machine was stationed on the Medina River at Ryde, where on Friday the 15th, the day before the race, the officials proceeded to mark the various components of the aeroplane in due accordance with the rules of the competition.
The intensity of the interest aroused by the Round-Britain Seaplane Race may be gauged by the fact that on the morning before the start of the competition the passengers on one of the Cowes-Portsmouth steamers loudly cheered, and cried “Good luck!” to Mr. Sopwith as they passed him on his yacht Ceto, which was anchored near the Enchantress. In an aside to a friend while acknowledging the cheers, Mr. Sopwith said he only hoped no one would wish Harry good luck. Every time he had done that during the Mortimer-Singer Competition he had failed. The last time he had not done it, and Harry won. In none of the big things which Harry had done had he received a good wish from him.
Harry and Mr. Sopwith had a big talk at the hangar before parting on Friday night, and one read in the newspaper on Saturday morning of “the owner giving his jockey the last instructions.”
Hopes were particularly high in the Sopwith bunks on Friday night when a fresh southerly breeze sprang up, for it was realised that such a wind on the morrow would greatly help Harry after he had passed Dover. But the glass remained high. Fog would be the greatest danger, and if only sufficient wind would rise to blow it away, all would be well.
The race was originally scheduled to begin at 6 a.m. on Saturday morning, August 16th, but late on Friday night the start had to be postponed until after 10 a.m., as it was found that the shed in which the machine was housed made it practically impossible for the machine to be launched until high tide. It was hoped, too, that the delay would enable McClean to bring his Short machine along in time to start with Harry and provide the added excitement of a neck-to-neck race. Those who were privileged to enjoy the hospitality of the Enchantress overnight were delighted with the prospect of a good night’s rest without the necessity of breakfasting at an unearthly hour in time to witness a 6 a.m. start.
Nevertheless, at 5 a.m. one heard voices diligently enquiring for Mr. Perrin, the secretary of the Royal Aero Club, and a general commotion and clamour seemed to be in progress on the gangways and in the corridors outside the cabins. A little bird told that the Mayor of Southampton, who through having retired early had not received notice of the postponement of the start, announced late on Friday night, came on board the Enchantress before 6 a.m. in full regalia, to be greeted by the secretary of the Royal Aero Club clad in plebeian pyjamas. The outcome of all this was that most people got up and had a 6.30 “brekker,” while a Sopwith Bat Boat and a Borel hydro-monoplane, carrying out evolutions in naval hands, relieved to some extent the monotony of the few hours pending the time when Harry would be ready to start. The water was remarkably calm and the day bright and sunny. Any wind that was rising came from the south, and would obviously be an aid to Harry in traversing the East Coast.
At about 11.30 Harry arrived on the scene with his machine, and landed a considerable distance from the Enchantress, about midway between it and the shore. A medley of racing yachts, motor-boats, steamers, and boats put out to meet him, and after about ten minutes these were seen to draw away—a sign that Harry was about to start.
The scene as Harry and Kauper were starting up their engine was inspiriting. The sunlight dancing on the water, the throngs lining the Netley shore, the countless mastheads with their pennants, all combined to make a charming spectacle. From 5 a.m. thousands of people had been lining the shore and sojourning in boats to see the flight begin. Just before the start, Mr. Sopwith, Mr. Perrin, and other officials gave Harry his final instructions from a motor-boat. With a “Right—thanks!” Harry put in his breast-pocket the official landing-cards handed up to him by Mr. Perrin. Somebody in a yacht cried out, “Good-bye, Hawker! Good luck!” which must have moved Mr. Sopwith to tears if he heard it.
At 11.47 a.m. on Saturday, August 16th, 1913, Harry rose from Southampton Water, and after disappearing from sight past Calshot and passing over the Solent, he sped off for the open sea. Before most people had realised that a great attempt to defeat the elements had begun, he was out of sight.
A very true description of the start was given by Mr. H. Hamilton Fyfe of the Daily Mail, in which he said:
“The morning was perfect. The sunshine made the landscape glitter in a warm glory of light. The southerly breeze tickled the surface of the water into sparkling ripples—the ‘smiles without number’ of summer. A wind had come up out of the sea and said, ‘Oh, mist, make room for me!’ The coast-line was clear. The Isle of Wight shimmered well within view. This had been the weather from the early hours, and it was a great pity the intention to leave at six was not carried out—a pity I mean from Mr. Hawker’s point of view. The delay was by everyone else hailed with joy. ‘Oh, it’s nice to be up in the morning, but it’s nicer to stay in your bed,’ sang Sir Thomas Lipton, quoting Mr. Harry Lauder’s song, and everyone sat up later than usual because there was no need to cut short the hours of bed.
“The reason for the delay was twofold. At the last moment the compass in the machine was found to need adjusting, and also it would have been necessary to put the waterplane into the Medina River from its shed between 1 and 2 a.m. ‘I need a good night’s rest before I start,’ Mr. Hawker pleaded, and so it was settled that he should wait for another tide. The telephone was kept busy announcing the postponement, but unfortunately there were many people who could not possibly hear of it.
“As soon as Mr. Hawker dropped into the water between the Enchantress and the shore, Mr. Perrin went out to give him a copy of the final rules and regulations and to take the exact time of his start. The pilot and his passenger, young Kauper, had no elaborate flying-suits on. Their coats and caps were of rough waterproof canvas, but they wore their ordinary trousers and boots. They might have been doing an everyday practice flight. ‘Have you got any grub with you?’ I asked them. ‘No,’ they said. ‘Can’t be bothered. We’ll get it at the stopping places.’
“Nothing in their manner, save a little suppressed excitement, betrayed by a slight huskiness of voice, suggested that they were starting on an attempt to fly 1,600 miles over sea almost straight on end. I suppose the thought, ‘How foolish and unnecessary,’ was in the Oriental minds of a party of lascars in a launch who were being taken up to Southampton from the troopship Rohilla lying close by. They hung over the side to see as much as they could of this latest invention of the ‘white mad folk,’ but I know every English man and woman there heartily admired the two Australian boys for their nerve and skill.
“A Great Day.
“As they made their last preparations I saw as in a moving picture kaleidoscope the scenes of the starts in earlier Daily Mail flying contests. I saw Louis Blériot in the field behind the beach at Baraques, near Calais, setting off at sunrise across the Channel and asking just before he started, ‘Where is Dover?’ I saw Grahame-White pelting off from Wormwood Scrubbs at six o’clock in the evening and vainly chasing Paulhan, who had got away from Hendon an hour before. I saw Brooklands in that hot afternoon when one after another the machines entered for the Circuit of Britain rose and sailed away to the delight and amazement of the huge crowd.
“The actual letting go was unemotional. Ours was the only boat close by. There was a clear path for the start. The crowds were too far away to cheer. Exactly at 11.47 the motor began its rattling din and the machine moved off without difficulty, foamed along over the water, and leapt suddenly into the air. Gradually, as he went down towards the Solent, Mr. Hawker climbed up to a good height. He was watched with intense sympathy until he disappeared into the sky. Then everyone heaved a deep sigh of satisfaction and said, ‘Well, it has been a great day.’”
“The two naval airmen, Lieutenant Travers and Lieutenant Spencer Gray, were to have convoyed him as far as Ramsgate, but to the grim amusement of Mr. Green, inventor of the air motor used by Mr. Hawker, and of Mr. Fred May, managing director of the company, both their foreign engines had broken down. The Gnome in the Borel machine was repaired by the afternoon, but the Austro-Daimler in the ‘Bat Boat’ had something seriously wrong with it, and Lieutenant Spencer Gray had to tow his waterplane to Calshot as evening fell.”
Seen from the Enchantress, Harry’s machine appeared to the special correspondent of the Daily Mirror as a big dragon-fly chased by a crowd of angry little water-beetles. At times it seemed that the “beetles,” sending up clouds of spray, would overtake their quarry, but the “dragon-fly” shot ahead desperately; and suddenly, as though it had just found the use of its wings, leapt out of the water and soared up gloriously into the air. The motor-boats snorted and grunted at this sudden manœuvre, slowed down their engines and abandoned the chase!
The first stretch to Ramsgate was 144 miles; the next to Yarmouth 96 miles; and the third to Scarborough 150 miles. To have any reasonable chance of completing the whole course in the appointed 72 hours, Harry realised that he would have to get at least as far as Scarborough on the first day. His delay in starting after 10 a.m. was due to difficulty in adjusting the compass, which had to be done, as he would require it in negotiating the mist and fog hanging about the Solent and the Thames Estuary. Assuming that he would reach Scarborough on Saturday, he expected to cover the 446 miles from there to Oban on Monday; on Tuesday he would make Dublin, 222 miles distant from Oban, and proceed on to Falmouth, a further 280 miles, leaving the final stretch from there to Southampton to be completed on Wednesday, on which day his time would be up at 4 p.m.
Having reached the open sea, Harry, keeping well out from the land and maintaining a steady height of about 1,000 feet, followed the South Coast, and was seen by numerous holiday folk at Brighton, Eastbourne, Folkestone, and Dover, which he passed in good time.
After rounding the corner of England he was assisted by the light southerly wind. The first control, Ramsgate, 144 miles from the start, was reached at 2.11 p.m., an average speed of 60 miles per hour having been kept up. While passing Margate, Harry saw a Blériot monoplane rising to greet him. This was M. Salmet, who was giving exhibition flights at Margate. Harry and Kauper enjoyed his company for a few minutes while he flew along beside them. On arriving at Ramsgate, they were welcomed by the Mayor (Alderman Glyn) and members of the Corporation, the Mayor, speaking through a megaphone, announcing that they had won the Cup offered by the townspeople to the first competitor arriving at Ramsgate. Ramsgate was en fête with much bunting, and crowds were there from Deal, Dover, Broadstairs, Margate, Canterbury, Whitstable, and all the villages for miles around, thronging the shore, piers, harbour, and every point of vantage. Local coastguards acted as patrols in two motor-boats, to keep the official control area clear. Mr. Thomas and Mr. Ramsden Tagore, members of the Royal Temple Yacht Club, lent their craft to the Royal Aero Club. At 3.20, the Aero Club officials having inspected the machine and handed to him a clean waybill with which to proceed, Harry started his engine and began the second stage to Yarmouth. Crossing the mouth of the Thames, he was unable to see either bank owing to the fog, and, steering by compass, he proceeded northward, afterwards passing Walton-on-the-Naze and Clacton, at which places holiday crowds enjoyed a passing glimpse of the machine in the distance, flying strongly.
Those who have made the tedious journey by steamboat from Yarmouth to London, taking the greater part of the day, will particularly appreciate the marvel of travelling all along the coast-line from Southampton to Yarmouth in less than five hours, including a rest of one hour at Ramsgate. At Yarmouth Harry and Kauper were received with an enthusiastic welcome at 4.38 p.m. At the time of landing, Harry was feeling quite fit, but soon after he had been rowed ashore he collapsed. He had been troubled by the gases escaping from the rather short exhaust-pipe, and this, coupled with the fact that, as Kauper reported, the sun had been very trying, and Harry had not worn any goggles, led to the case being diagnosed as sunstroke aggravated by the conditions under which he had been flying. I am inclined to think that his actual breakdown was completed by the change of conditions from piloting the seaplane to being rowed ashore in a small boat, and it was a lucky circumstance that this temporary breakdown was not deferred until he had taken the air again.
The following communication from a special correspondent of the Evening News, published on Monday, August 18th, 1913, sheds some light on the circumstances:
“Yarmouth, Monday.
“The hope expressed by Mr. Sopwith that Mr. Hawker may have recovered sufficiently to make a fresh start from Southampton this week is based on the opinion of the doctor attending the airman. His view is that Mr. Hawker should be quite fit again in a couple of days.
“The doctor tells me that no specific cause can be assigned as the reason of the airman’s breakdown.
“It is, he says, a general accumulation of nerve strain, lack of rest, and, on top of it all, Saturday’s hot sun.
“Mr. Hawker’s breakdown was most dramatic. When the machine came to rest on the water he hopped out of the seat, and, standing on the floats, was active in directing the disposition of the machine.
“‘Be ready to fill her up,’ were his words on leaving her.
“I walked up the beach with him to the officers’ quarters. ‘Fit as a fiddle,’ was his own phrase, and though grimy and travel-stained, he looked fit.
“Suddenly a change occurred. He passed his hand wearily over his eyes, and his whole complexion changed.
“The room was speedily cleared, a draught was administered by the doctor, and a cold compress applied to the forehead, but it was apparent to onlookers that he could not possibly go on.
“Indeed, Lieutenant Gregory tells me that had Mr. Hawker essayed to do so he should have put his official veto on the attempt.”
The fact that Yarmouth was one of the controls proved to be one of the big local attractions of the season, and people flocked in from all parts of Norfolk and Suffolk. Lieutenant Gregory, R.N., who was in charge of the East Coast Naval Air Stations, spared no pains in perfecting the local organisation. The control area was a triangle, of which the apex was the familiar lightship which faced the Naval Air Station. The Mayor of Yarmouth, Mr. Westmacott, personally assumed responsibility for keeping the control area free from intruding boats.
When they landed, Harry and Kauper were very deaf from the incessant roar of the engine during the flight, and their friends had to shout their loudest to make themselves heard.
As soon as it was found to be out of the question for Harry to proceed with the flight, Mr. Sopwith at once took steps to find a pilot to assume control of the machine and carry on the work which Harry had so well begun. Through the kindness and sportsmanship of Messrs. Short Brothers, he was able to engage the services of their pilot, Mr. Sydney Pickles—like Harry, an Australian. The Daily Mail not expecting pilots to fly on Sunday was a fortunate circumstance which gave Mr. Sopwith all the time needed to get Mr. Pickles on the scene by Monday morning without sacrificing flying time or having his new pilot tired out before the start.
At 5.30 a.m. Pickles with Kauper made a determined effort to get away, but the sea was too rough, and there was nothing to do but switch off the engine and be taken in tow. This was just as well, as subsequent reports showed that much rougher seas were running at Scarborough, the next control, where the buoys marking the official control area were washed away.
But troubles were by no means at an end when Pickles switched off and waited for help. Propelled by a strong north-easterly wind, the machine drifted southward from a point north-east of the St. Nicholas Lightship, past the harbour entrance, down to Gorleston Bay, where, after being taken in tow by a rowing-boat, the machine was beached. An examination of the machine as it lay on the shore at Gorleston showed that, in spite of the buffeting it had received, very little damage had occurred. The elevator and one of the floats were damaged. As Mr. F. Sigrist, the works manager of the Sopwith Aviation Company, said at the time, the incessant bump of the water, which was on that morning about as soft as concrete, was sufficient completely to break up a good many machines.
After breakfast Mr. Sopwith, Mr. Sigrist, Mr. Pickles, and Lieutenant Gregory held a conference, principally to decide whether or not the machine should be sent back to Southampton by air. After much discussion, which resulted in such a division of opinion that the toss of a coin was resorted to as the deciding factor, the machine was dismantled and sent back to Cowes by rail to be ready for a second attempt. The railway companies were very obliging in providing facilities for rapidly transporting the machine in time for it to be re-erected and to make a fresh start to accomplish the whole circuit before the close of the competition. One cannot help expressing sympathy for Mr. Pickles in being robbed by a heavy sea of his eleventh hour opportunity of participating in the flight.
In the meantime, Messrs. Short Brothers and Frank McClean, with the assistance of Mr. Fred May, of the Green Engine Company, got their machine into serviceable trim, and hoped to fly to Southampton on the following Thursday evening, to be in readiness to make a start on the Friday, but owing to radiator troubles they were forced eventually to abandon the contest.