THE HUDSON FLIGHT
Over Storm King
The captain was very kind and courteous, asking us to remain in the pilot house, where we might get a better view of the country along the way, and displaying the keenest interest in the project. He answered all our questions about the winds along the Hudson and seemed to enter heartily in the spirit of the thing until we approached the great bridge at Poughkeepsie and I began to deliberate whether it would be better to pass over or beneath it in the aeroplane. Then it seemed really to dawn upon the captain for the first time that I was actually going to fly down the river in an aeroplane. He apparently failed to grasp the situation, and thereafter his answers were vague and given without interest. It was "Oh, yes, I guess so," and similar doubtful expressions, but when we finally left the boat at Albany he very kindly wished me a safe trip and promised to blow the whistle if I should pass his boat.
Albany afforded a better starting place than New York, because there were convenient spots where one might land before getting well under way, should it become necessary. This was not true of the situation at New York City. As to the advantage of prevailing winds, it seemed to be in favour of Albany as the starting place, and I finally decided to have everything sent up to the capital city. On my way up I had stopped at Poughkeepsie, in order to select a landing place, as at least one stop was deemed necessary to take on gasoline and to look over the motor. We visited the State Hospital for the Insane, which stands on the hill just above Poughkeepsie, and which seemed to be a good place to land. Dr. Taylor, the superintendent, showed us about the grounds, and when told that I intended stopping there on my way down the river in a flying machine, said with much cordiality: "Why, certainly, Mr. Curtiss, come right in here; here's where all the flying machine inventors land."
Notwithstanding the Doctor's cordial invitation to "drop in on him," we went to the other side of Poughkeepsie, and there found a fine open field at a place called Camelot. I looked over the ground carefully, locating the ditches and furrows, and selected the very best place to make a safe landing. Arrangements were made for a supply of gasoline, water, and oil to be brought to the field and held in readiness. It was fortunate that I looked over the Camelot field, for a few days later I landed within a few feet of the place I had selected as the most favoured spot near Poughkeepsie. This is but one thing that illustrates how the whole trip was outlined before the start was made, and how this plan was followed out according to arrangement.
I shall always remember Albany as the starting place of my first long cross-country flight. My machine was brought over from Hammondsport and set up; the Aero Club sent up its official representatives, Mr. Augustus Post and Mr. Jacob L. Ten Eyck, and the newspapers of New York City sent a horde of reporters. A special train was engaged to start from Albany as soon as I got under way, carrying the newspapermen and the Aero Club representatives, as well as several invited guests. It was the purpose to have this train keep even with me along the entire trip of one hundred and fifty-two miles, but as it turned out, it had some trouble in living up to the schedule.
The aeroplane, christened the "Hudson Flier," was set up on Rensselaer Island. It was now up to the weather man to furnish conditions I considered suitable. This proved a hard task, and for three days I got up at daybreak, when there is normally the least wind, ready to make an early start. On these days the newspapermen and officials, not to mention crowds of curious spectators, rubbed the sleep out of their eyes before the sun got up and went out to Rensselaer Island. But the wind was there ahead of us and it blew all day long. The weather bureau promised repeatedly, "fair weather, with light winds," but couldn't live up to promises. I put in some of the time in going over every nut, bolt, and turnbuckle on the machine with shellac. Nothing was overlooked; everything was made secure. I had confidence in the machine. I knew I could land on the water if it became necessary, as I had affixed two light pontoons to the lower plane, one on either end, and a hydro-surface under the front wheel of the landing-gear. This would keep me afloat some time should I come down in the river.
We bothered the life out of the weather observer at Albany, but he was always very kind and took pains to get weather reports from every point along the river. But the newspapermen lost faith; they were tired of the delay. I have always observed that newspapermen, who work at a high tension, cannot endure delay when there is a good piece of news in prospect. One of those at Albany during the wait, offered to lay odds with the others that I would not make a start. Others among the journalists believed I was looking for free advertising, and when another of the advertised starters for the World prize reached Albany he was greeted with: "Hello, old man, are you up here to get some free advertising, too?" One of the Poughkeepsie papers printed an editorial about this time, in which it said: "Curtiss gives us a pain in the neck. All those who are waiting to see him go down the river are wasting their time." This was a fair sample of the lack of faith in the undertaking.
The machine was the centre of interest at Albany during the wait. It seemed to hold a fascination for the crowds that came over to the island. One young fellow gazed at it so long and so intently that he finally fell over backwards insensible and it was some time before he was restored to consciousness. Then one of the newspapermen dashed a pail of water over him and at once sent his paper a column about it. They had to find something to write about and the countryman, the flying machine, and the fit made a combination good enough for almost any newspaper-man to weave an interesting yarn about.
Our period of waiting almost ended on Saturday morning, May 30th. The "Hudson Flier" was brought out of its tent, groomed and fit; the special train provided by the New York Times to follow me over the New York Central, stood ready, with steam up and the engineer holding a right-of-way order through to New York. The newspapermen, always on the job, and the guests were watching eagerly for the aeroplane to start and set out on its long and hazardous flight.