Wingfoot Lake, Akron, was a busy place during the first war, as the spawning ground of scores of blimps, hundreds of training and observation balloons.
“Finger patches” of rope ends raveled out and cemented to the outside of the bag were used in 1918 to support the weight of the gondola—an improvised airplane fuselage.
During most of the period between World wars the Navy had only a few J-type ships, but used them effectively in training and experimental work. (U. S. Navy photo)
Which led to one of the interesting aeronautic adventure stories of the period. It happened just after the Armistice.
Men had come out of the war with imaginations afire over the possibilities of aircraft. One challenge lay open—the Atlantic—no one had flown it.
In the breathing spell brought by the Armistice, the British were preparing their new Zeppelin R-34 for the crossing; two English planes were being shipped to Newfoundland to try to fly back; the U. S. Navy had a seaplane crossing in prospect. There was even a German plan. A new Zeppelin had just been finished at Friedrichshafen when the Armistice was signed, and the crew planned to fly it to America as a demonstration—but authorities got wind of it and blocked the venture.
But of all the Atlantic crossings about which men were dreaming in early 1919, none is more interesting than the one projected for the little blimps.
The C-5, newest of the non-rigid airships built for the Navy, was stationed at Montauk, and there one night a group of officers sat intensively studying charts and weather maps. St. John’s, Newfoundland, 1,400 miles away, would be the first leg of the trip. It was easily within the cruising radius of the ship, particularly if they got helping winds, which they should if the time was carefully picked. From there to Ireland was another 1850 miles, also within range with the prevailing westerly winds.