CHAPTER XX
MOTOR ENGINEERING AND RACING
Formation of the Hawker Engineering Company—The Racing A.C.—Amusing Experiences—Remarkable Performances Due to Efficient Streamlining—Several Records Broken—An Accident—The Hawker Two-stroke Motor-cycle.
CHAPTER XX
Immediately after the war efforts were made by the Sopwith Aviation and Engineering Company to turn out domestic utensils from aluminium. Mr. Sigrist tells the tale of Harry walking into his office one morning after discovering the new object the firm was to produce, and sitting down, said: “Well, Fred, what do you think of it! Saucepans! Where do I come in? I never thought I should live to find myself in a job that Mrs. Beeton could do better than I.”
I believe a good many saucepans were made, which, according to a contributor to a flying paper, “involved strenuous work on the firm’s chief tester,” and also a certain wooden toy was turned out in good numbers; but the firm commenced real post-war work in the production of the A.B.C. motor-bicycle.
The company continued with the production of this cycle for some time, but was eventually unable to weather the slump of 1920, and in the September of that year the Sopwith Aviation and Engineering Company closed down.
In November a new company was founded by Messrs. Sopwith and Sigrist and Harry, known as the H. G. Hawker Engineering Company, which started in the production of a 2-stroke motor-cycle and also special aluminium body-work. After the appearance of Harry’s streamlined A.C. a considerable demand for like racing bodies appeared, until most of the best known racing light cars became furnished with Hawker streamline bodies.
In the meantime Harry had been working hard at every spare moment on his A.C., the acquisition of which is very interesting. One day in the summer Harry went for a short run with one of the directors of Messrs. A.C. in a new model fitted with an overhead valve engine. It was purely an experimental production, and after the run Harry wanted to see the drawings. He immediately saw possibilities as a racing car, and then and there wanted to buy it. He did buy it, and then followed months of real hard work, bringing in its wake alternate successes and disappointments. From the moment he brought the car home there was little rest for all concerned with it, his own energy and enthusiasm being enormous. The engine was hurried into a standard sports chassis and headed for Brooklands in a remarkably short space of time, to be back again for modification almost as quickly. Many dark days followed. Troubles that would have broken the heart of some men followed in what seemed like endless succession. In one day he had six gaskets “blow” before he found the right means and material to withstand the tremendous pressures involved. It does not take much experience to know what this means in terms of work, as the gaskets were all hand made, and the “head,” complete with pipe systems, connections, etc., had to come off each time.
This trouble over, and a set of pistons with decidedly ambitious tops having been designed and fitted, he proceeded to lap at what were then remarkable speeds indeed, and in spite of the fact that the very necessary parts frequently fell either in or out of the engine, he never lost faith in it. I remember, towing him home for it seemed the hundredth time, saying with a lack of his optimistic patience: “Let’s burn the thing and buy a motor-car!” but his cheery reply was: “Never mind, we’re really beginning to go now!” and proceeded to take the motor down prior to an all-night sitting. Coffee and cakes figured at intervals in these “all-night jobs,” and I expect the neighbours wondered if he ever slept.
On one occasion he walked into the office of Mr. Weller, the designer of the engine, at the A.C. Works and, laying a mutilated mass of metal down on the desk, exclaimed: “Here you are. How’s this for an A.C. con.-rod? How soon can I have another?” One had to be produced, and off down to the track again. He fitted stiffer valve-springs and reconsidered the “cam contours,” with the result that the speed kept creeping up and curious rumours regarding some kind of forced induction floated round the paddock, much to his amusement.
Mr. Weller tells of a very funny incident. When everything had been looking promising, one afternoon Harry, smiling as usual, came into the office and called him down to the yard. “Come and have a look at the engine,” he said. “I’ve got something to show you.” And he had. Mr. Weller found the remains of the precious engine strapped to the back of Harry’s Rolls-Royce, the body of which he had recently discarded, and in the interval of the fitting of the new body ran it for “use,” as he called it.
A gaping hole was in the crank-case of the engine big enough to put a boot in. Harry then produced a tangled remnant which had once done duty as a connecting-rod, saying: “It shot clean across the track! I walked back and found it lying on the grass; it was still warm when I picked it up.” It was quite true he found it in the exact spot he shed it, but while the design was almost identical, on close inspection the stamping number proved conclusively that it was not an A.C. rod at all, but some other unfortunate who must have gone round just before. As far as I know, the proper remains were never found.
Even this disaster failed to deter Harry. Although the cross-shaft was smashed and A.C.’s had no spare crank-case available, he very quickly improvised a bracket and remounted the magneto in front of the engine, where, driven by a chain, it operated very well. A patch was welded on the crank-case and the engine was soon running again with as much “pep” as ever.
With the advent of high and sustained speeds the exhaust valves commenced to give trouble. The valve-heads could usually be found reposing on the bottom of the sump, but on one occasion, after a fruitless three-hour search, Harry discovered the valve-head must have gone out through the exhaust-pipe!
Once, as the car was coming off the Byfleet banking on the track, after a lap or two at speed, unmistakable sounds proclaimed that the “umpteenth” valve-head had broken. It being the day before it was to race at a meeting, it was a very serious matter, but Harry, nothing daunted, mechanically began to tie the rope attaching the A.C. on to the Minerva, saying: “We’ll be with them when the flag falls.” That his confidence was justified is now a matter of light-car history. The Minerva I have just mentioned was my car, which Harry had had fitted with an enclosed body upholstered in Bedford cord for comfortable winter motoring. It degenerated into a travelling workshop for the A.C., which little car I always followed proudly to Brooklands, complete with tow-rope and spares, and nearly always, less proudly, preceded it home, connected by the rope.
Photo by]
[Temple Press, Ltd.
THE 12-CYLINDER RACING SUNBEAM AFTER HARRY’S SMASH AT BROOKLANDS, WHEN SEVERAL YARDS OF CORRUGATED IRON FENCING WERE TORN DOWN.
[Facing p. 312.
Photo by]
[Temple Press, Ltd.
MR. T. O. M. SOPWITH, C.B.E., AND HARRY, WITH THE HAWKER TWO-STROKE MOTORCYCLE—A POST-WAR ENTERPRISE OF THE HAWKER ENGINEERING COMPANY.
[Facing p. 312.
Soon the A.C. started to reach the 90 miles per hour mark, and it was then that the single-seater streamline chassis was made in which Mr. Weller gave great care to questions of weight distribution as well as the elimination of any external details which might cause resistance. To this chassis Harry designed and built in his works his now famous streamlined body, and in his able hands the success of the combination exceeded everyone’s expectations from the start, and at its début created a sensation in racing circles.
The car made its first public appearance in its streamlined form at the Easter Meeting of the B.A.R.C., where it caused a great deal of enthusiasm, it being the first really streamlined racing car ever seen at Brooklands. But it was not the first time it had actually been on the track, so although “terrificly fast for a 1½-litre car,” as one current motor paper had it, it was handicapped out of any hope of winning either of the races entered, but succeeded in taking second place in both. In the second race he made a very spectacular run through the whole field, with the exception of the limit man who won the race.
After winning the 1,500 cc. Scratch Race at the Junior Car Club Meeting and also the very interesting short sprint of 250 yards against Captain Fraser Nash’s famous G.N. named Mowgli, he began to really “tune up” for records. He was very anxious for his A.C. to be the first 1,500 cc. car to attain 100 miles an hour, and on June 3rd he gained the coveted distinction on his A.C. under official observation. He attacked the flying and standing half-mile records, which stood to the credit of the G.N., and established world’s light car records by achieving the speed of 105·15 miles per hour for the flying and 61·43 miles per hour for the standing starts. Those records caused a great sensation in the motor world, and even the lay Press showed some sort of enthusiasm for the latest achievement of the world whose efforts are generally ignored.
Harry received many letters of congratulation from the people interested in the first “100 miles an hour light car,” and I think the real sporting atmosphere of Brooklands was conveyed in a genial letter of congratulation from Mr. Lionel Martin, who was not too proud to say he had coveted the distinction for the Aston-Martin car, which I know Harry appreciated very much, as also the hearty grip of Captain Nash who, till then, had swept the board at Brooklands with his G.N., but who now realised he had met his match in the A.C.
In practising for the Midsummer Meeting of the B.A.R.C. on June 25th, he had a very narrow escape from disaster. I was timing his lap speed from the stand, when, as he was about to enter the railway straight at about 100 miles per hour, he suddenly appeared to slide down the banking, and a huge cloud of dust concealed him from view. A man immediately behind me, who had been watching the A.C., exclaimed: “Hawker’s off the track! He’ll need his luck now!” Running down the steps of the stand, the first person I saw in the paddock was Mr. Coatalen just getting into his car. He took me round to the spot, where, as one would quite expect, Harry was standing up by the side of the track, waving his hands to denote his complete fitness. His appearance, however, was terrible, as his whole face was covered with blood, but, rubbing it with his handkerchief, asked for volunteers to help him out with the car, which could not at first be seen. It had completely hopped the three-feet concrete parapet that surrounds the track, and was reposing, right way up, in the long grass.
Remonstrances to him to leave the getting up of the machine to the many willing volunteers who had arrived on the scene were of no avail; he hated any sort of fuss, and only left for the paddock when the car was on the track again. It appeared the cause of the accident was the side of the bonnet, over which there was no strap, coming loose and hitting Harry on his forehead, dazing him for the minute. Later, holding out his goggles, complete, but splintered in a thousand pieces and covered with blood, Harry said: “Hang it all, these are my favourite goggles! Just fitted me before; only fit for Triplex display window now!”
We towed the A.C. home, very little damaged considering the jar it must have received in negotiating the parapet, and the whole of that night was spent in taking the body off and looking for any possible trouble. New wheels were substituted for the two completely buckled ones, and Harry raced the car the next day at the B.A.R.C. Meeting, where, unfortunately, engine trouble prevented him winning any races.
After the sprint records he had put up, Harry’s intention was to go for sustained and still greater speeds with the object of attacking world’s records irrespective of size before the end of the year, but he was only destined to live three more weeks, leaving the car, his loved car on which he had spent so much of his interest and time during the last six months, at the height of its fame, for others to carry on to the 120 miles per hour goal.
During this time, Harry and Sopwith displayed much enthusiasm in their two-stroke motor-cycle production, and they entered and themselves rode machines in many competitions and trials, with a good amount of success.
Harry designed and made in the works a special racing two-stroke cycle, but although he had it out on the road on its maiden trip, he was never to have it out on the track, and after his death the work on this cycle was not continued.