“Meanwhile Raynham got away on the Avro at 7.40, which meant eventually a start of 1h. 35m. He seemed to have a little trouble in carrying his load, as he had to make three attempts to get off, and he was flying very cabré through the earlier part of his flight. The Green engine, however, sounded serious, solemn, and steady, and seemed to inspire confidence. Hawker made a start at 9.15 without even testing or trying the magneto in any way.
“Then commenced a magnificent and exciting contest which lasted till well after dark.
“The A.B.C. spluttered a little at first for want of a warming-up, but by the time it had done one circuit of Brooklands its revolutions were up to 2,000 per minute, and Hawker was able to throttle down slightly. There was a tense feeling all round, and an ache in the heart of the Sopwith crew that the magneto had not been properly fitted during the previous night. Hawker’s handicap was realised more and more when it was found that if Raynham remained aloft until within 1 hour and 35 minutes of the limiting hours of the competition (which were from sunrise till one hour after sunset), Hawker could not possibly win.
“There was a stream of people to and from the anemometer throughout the day, which instrument happily showed the atmospheric conditions to be little short of ideal. The speed of the wind during the day did not vary more than five to eight miles per hour.
“Raynham, with his wide experience, took the greatest possible advantage of this, and made a really splendid flight, with the Green throttled down to the very slowest revolutions that the machine would fly with, and with the tail dropping in what appeared to be a fearful position to the onlookers. Hawker, with tail well up (and his machine lifts the loads remarkably easily), was flying steadily round at a height of about 400 feet, the A.B.C. emitting a steady hum. Raynham, on the other hand, was flying very low, and on some occasions was only about 30 feet high. By about eleven o’clock he evidently had become extremely bored with pottering round and round, because he commenced a series of antics round the sheds, and at one time about half-way round a turn he suddenly doubled back on his own track, and did a turn or two round the wrong way, all the time, however, with his engine ticking round at something like 950 revolutions per minute only, the appearance of the machine being terrifying to behold to those who dread sideslips.
“Hawker all this time was steadily plodding away, making the safest flight possible, and the very machine had a look of determination about it. The two slow-speed propellers turned solemnly round, and the engine explosions were lost in a continual buzz through the high engine speed. That he was out to win if possible was obvious from every movement. Raynham’s champions grew a little nervous over the flippancy of their pilot, and a shutter of one of the sheds was quickly requisitioned, on which were painted the words in large letters: ‘Fly higher.’ It had not much effect, however, although it served apparently to sober him a little.
“Towards one o’clock impatient questions as to how much oil and petrol they were carrying began to circulate amongst the onlookers, and it appeared that Raynham’s oil supply was likely to run out before anything else. On more than one occasion the Green suddenly slowed down in revolutions, only to pick up again just as quickly. Someone pointed out later on that the short pipes coupled to the exhaust ports in the cylinders of the Green no longer emitted the puffs of smoke that had been prominent in the earlier stages of the flight, and misgivings as to the oil supply began to travel abroad.
“Excitement reached fever-heat between two and three o’clock, the strain of watching the two machines circle round hour after hour becoming intense. It was not even like a motor race, where one can see fairly early in the run who is likely to be the winner. In this conflict, speed did not even count, and the contest might terminate any second by either running out of fuel or by an engine stoppage. Little work was done in the sheds, and every few minutes mechanics would appear at the various doors to find and call out to their mates that both machines were still up.
“‘Raynham’s down!’ The cry spread across the ground at about 3.10 p.m., and a frantic rush was made to the front of the sheds, and sure enough he was just on the point of touching. He terminated his flight at 3.11½ p.m. exactly, having been in the air 7 hours 31½ minutes—truly a splendid performance. We all rushed across the ground, and Fred May, of the Green Engine Co., jumped into his car and came tearing up to the spot. Raynham climbed out, looking somewhat tired, but apparently none the worse for the 7½ hours’ toil. He said that the oil had run out, and though he had held on as long as he could, the engine had been dropping in revolutions for the last half-hour, and he did not want to risk it seizing up altogether.
“Up to the very minute of Raynham’s landing it is doubtful if a single person on Brooklands would have given a shilling for Hawker’s chance of putting up better time than Raynham with the latter’s hour and a half start; but things now changed, and as all eyes were turned upwards and ears listening to catch the rhythmic beating of the engine, the question went round: ‘Will he keep up for another two hours?’ The engine sounded happy enough, and if nothing happened there was no reason why he should not, as he had a big load of fuel. The excitement now began steadily to rise as the minutes were ticked off, and to the Sopwith enthusiasts every minute seemed an age. They all went back to find something to do that would pass the time more quickly, but had to come out again with dread in their hearts that they might find Hawker ‘taxi-ing’ along the ground.