Not only was there not the least mishap to himself or to the machine in landing, but as soon as he had received a few of the many excited congratulations awaiting him, he started off again and flew back the ten miles to the camp of the 30th Infantry on the Aviation Field, where wild cheers greeted the man and the machine that had for the first time linked the Army and the Navy. For this is what, in the wars of the future, or even in the preservation of the future's peace, the aeroplane is certainly going to do, joining as nothing else can the two branches of the service.
I don't think there has ever been so remarkable a landing made with an aeroplane as Ely's, and probably never so much store put by the mere act of coming down in the right place. A few feet either way, a sudden puff of wind to lift the aeroplane when it should descend, or any one of a dozen other things, might have spelled disaster for the whole undertaking, deprived the daring aviator of a well earned success, and the world of a remarkable spectacular demonstration of practical aviation.
On the day of the test I was in San Diego and awaited news from San Francisco with a good deal of impatience. When at last the Associated Press bulletin announced that Ely had landed without mishap I first felt a great relief that there had been no accident to mar the success of the thing, and then a sense of elation that we had taken another long step in the advancement of aviation.
Early in January I went to Southern California to establish an experimental station, and at the same time to instruct the officers of the Army and Navy whom I had invited the War and Navy Departments to assign for that purpose. A part of our experiments were along the line of a new "amphibious" machine that had been on my mind ever since my first experiments in Hammondsport.
I believed that with the proper equipment for floating and attaining a high speed on the water, an aeroplane could be made to rise as easily as it could from the land. [4] I had carried these experiments just far enough in Hammondsport to convince me that the thing was feasible, when I was obliged to discontinue them to take up other business. I knew it would be safer to land on the water than on land with the proper appliances, and that it would be easier to find a suitable landing place on water, for the reason that it always affords an open space, while it is often difficult to pick a landing place on the land. So, when I made preparations for my flight from Albany to New York City, I fitted pontoons beneath the chassis of my machine and a hydro-surface under the front wheel. I wanted to be prepared for alighting on the water should anything go amiss. As a matter of fact, the river course was the only feasible one for this flight, as there were mountains and hills for almost the entire distance.
| [4] | NOTE BY AUGUSTUS POST An interesting story is told of how the hydroaeroplane came to be invented. During the period when he was planning a new series of experiments, Mr. Curtiss, accompanied by Mrs. Curtiss, attended a New York theatre in which there was being presented a play much talked about just then. The curtain went up on the first act, and the noted aviator was apparently enjoying the show when, just as the scene was developing one of its most interesting climaxes, he turned to Mrs. Curtiss and said: "I've got it." On the theatre program he had sketched what ultimately became the design of the hydroaeroplane. This is like a time when Mr. Curtiss was standing one day by the side of one of his motorcycles talking with a customer. He kept turning one of the grips of the handle-bar with his fingers while talking and after finishing the conversation went into his office and developed the idea of a handle-control which had come to him while apparently absorbed in conversation.–A. P. |
It was while on that trip that I decided to build an aeroplane that would be available for starting or landing on the water. I don't know that I had the idea of its military value when I first planned it; but it came to me later that such a machine would be of great service should the Navy adopt the aeroplane as a part of its equipment. I thought the next step from pontoons, to float an aeroplane safely on the water, would be a permanent boat so shaped that it could get up speed enough so the whole machine could rise clear of the water and fly in the air.
It was important to find a location where it would be possible to work along the lines I had mapped out a place where I might be free from the pressing calls of business and the hampering influence of uncertain climatic conditions. In short I wanted a place with the best climate to be found in this country, with a field large enough and level enough for practice land flights by beginners, and with a convenient body of smooth water for experiments with a machine that would start from or land upon water.
Above all, I wanted a place not easy of access to the curious crowds that gather wherever there is anything novel to be attempted; for a flying machine never loses its attraction to the curious. Mankind has been looking for it ever since the beginning of the world, and now that it is actually here he can't get away from it, once it is in sight. A machine that has actually carried a man through the air takes on a sort of individuality all its own that acts as a magnet for the inquiring mind. Once people have really seen an aeroplane fly, they want to know what makes it fly and to come into personal contact with the machine and the man who operates it.
San Diego was brought to my attention as affording every advantage for experimental work in aviation. A study of the weather bureau records here showed a minimum of wind and a maximum of sunshine the year round. I visited that city in January, 1911, and after a thorough inspection of the grounds offered as an aviation field, decided to make that city the headquarters for the winter and to carry on the experimental and instructional work there.