CHAPTER VIII
ACROSS
Log Book:
SUNDAY—At the present time we have been out an hour. Land has gone in the haze and we are almost into the fog bank which hangs always off the coast of Newfoundland. We have 1500 ft. and both boys are in the cockpit. Me, I am holding down a pile of flying suits, as we left every ounce we could spare at Trepassey and the three cushions were among the things discarded.
We made three tries before we got off and went up from a heavy sea with one motor so wet it has just come in full recently. We had to throw out all our canned gas. We have only 700 gals, with us now.
* * * *
That was the first entry in the log book following the actual take-off from Trepassey. We left the harbor about 11:15 in the morning, having waited until then for final weather reports. The villagers had seen us “start” so often they had lost faith, so there were only a few on shore to see the Friendship take the air.
I had left a telegram to be sent half an hour after we had gone.
“Violet. Cheerio.
“A. E.”
That was the message. The code word “Violet” meant “We are just hopping off.” That was our official good-bye to America.