“Our radio kept up sending messages, assuming that the torpedo-boat destroyers were picking them up. We did not know the radio was useless and that the destroyers had not been receiving the messages.
“All the crew thought the sea would moderate, but the plane was so badly damaged in the high billows that we were unable to rise again.
“We were 60 miles southwest of Pico when we alighted, the position being where we had figured we were before coming down.
“The clearing of the weather proved only temporary, for later a storm came up and continued for 48 hours. With both lower wings wrecked, the pontoons lost, and the hull leaking, and the tail of the machine damaged, the plane was tossed about like a cork.
“In order to conserve the remaining 170 gallons of fuel we decided to ‘sail’ landward, hoping to sight a destroyer on the way. But we did not pass a single ship until we reached Ponta Delgada. Off the port we declined proffered aid by the destroyer Harding, which had been sent out to meet us, and ‘taxied’ into port under our own power.
“During the two days’ vigil of seeking land or rescue ships we fired all our distress signals, none of which apparently were seen.
“Without informing the crew of the fear that I had that we would be lost, I packed our log in a water-proof cover, tied it to a life-belt, and was prepared to cast it adrift when the NC-3 sank.
“The nervous strain was terrible while we were drifting, and the men smoked incessantly. This was the only thing that kept them awake.
“I believe a transatlantic flight is practicable without a stop with planes a little larger than the NC type. The engines of all three of the planes worked perfectly, and could have run 6,000 miles more if there had been sufficient fuel on board.
“Wire trouble in the instrument board was the mechanical defect experienced by the NC-3.”