Harry bobbed up somewhere near me and started a sort of roll-call. Meanwhile a rowing-boat had put out from the shore and come alongside my sister and I. We had just about had enough of floating about, although I do not suppose it was really so long as it seemed, and thankful enough for the boat; but suddenly one of the two Australian soldiers, who had pushed out the first boat they could find, found it was sinking, and unceremoniously left for the shore alone. They had forgotten to put the bung in! However a launch soon came up and we were safely “beached.” Harry towed the Kangaroo to shore, where he found the magneto had suffered badly by its immersion in water, and proceeded to dismantle it. By about nine o’clock he was ready to start back with it, this time without the floats. It was quite dark, and little more than half-way across the Solent the magneto gave out again. They moored behind an anchored vessel and in the dark Harry had no little job in getting things right. He eventually arrived back at the hotel at about eleven o’clock, still in his wet clothes. As for my sister and myself, Mr. Smith, who was one of the victims, took us back by the Southampton steamboat, in which the captain, hearing of our plight, kindly allowed us the use of the engine-room as a drying-ground, and for the journey of just over an hour we steamed away merrily.
The new floats were procured, but the actual race itself was a fiasco.
There were three French and one Italian competitor beside the English, and on September 10th, the day of the race, the weather was good and everyone had arrived. Just at the hour arranged for the start a thick fog descended, completely blotting out the points to which the machines had to fly.
Harry, who had again damaged his racing floats on landing at Bournemouth from Hythe, only just managed to get off the water with one float nearly submerged. In the compulsory landing after one lap he landed near the shore, the machine being pulled on to the beach by the mechanics before it had time to sink.
The fog had not lifted, and as it was impossible to find the boundary buoys everyone gave it up, with the exception of the Italian competitor, who did round after round at a terrific speed, but it was very doubtful if the actual round was flown each time, as the outpost people could not distinguish the passing of any machine.
In fairness to the Italian competitor, it must be said that nearly all the French and English competitors had had float trouble, and it was doubtful if, had the weather been good, he would have had many rivals. There was a good deal of controversy afterwards as to whether the Cup should be awarded; ultimately it was agreed that the race should be run the following year in Italy, but the 1919 race was to be considered as null.
After this race Harry and I had arranged to go to Scotland on a visit to Mr. Sopwith, there to enjoy a stag-shoot. Harry was an exceptional shot, and the previous autumn had had the unique experience of shooting two royal stags in one day. This year, however, the railway strike prevented our going, which naturally was a great disappointment to Harry.