Neither Harry nor Grieve had much confidence in the lifeboat, in spite of their skill in launching it. For one thing, they had no experience in launching it with the aeroplane either afloat or in a sinking condition. When ultimately they had occasion to launch their boat in mid-Atlantic, Harry and Grieve found that, with the machine right way up, the process presented no difficulty. To simply lift a catch and heave clear was easily done. In the cold inland pools in which they practised with their boat Harry and Grieve also tried out their patent unsinkable clothes, which, contrary to many reports, were not electrically heated.
The clothes which Harry and Grieve wore comprised heavy woollen under-garments, and two jerseys over their ordinary suits. Outside all this was a floating rubber suit with air-bags back and front, ready for inflation if needed. These safety suits were of the American Navy pattern.
In attempting the flight, Harry was of opinion that he was undertaking nothing of an exceptionally hazardous nature. Several flights of over 20 hours’ duration had been made by other pilots previously, and, having confidence in his machine from his knowledge of it, he felt as safe over sea as over land. He would prefer to fall into the water than on to the land, and the boat and special clothing were a good insurance against the drowning risk. The only doubtful factor was the estimation of the probable weather conditions in mid-Atlantic. Murky weather would prevent the use of the sextant, and might therefore impede navigation. Harry believed that at a height of 8,000 feet the conditions over the Atlantic would be similar to those over a like area of North America, which being so, he would be able to reach London in 24 hours.
It was estimated that the 350 gallons of petrol which they carried would be enough to keep them in the air for 22 hours. They proposed to fly at 10,000 feet and, if possible, maintain a speed of 100 miles per hour. As the range of their wireless receiver was 300 miles they would be in touch with the wireless station at St. Johns for three hours after the start. Nevertheless, when it came to the actual test it was very difficult to make out any message owing to the noise emanating from the propeller, and the batteries ran down too.
Naturally, with over a ton of fuel on board to carry them across, the machine would get lighter and lighter as they progressed, a fact which would be in their favour as regards “landing.” Had the engine failed near the start at, say, 10,000 feet the machine would have glided down in about twelve minutes at an angle of 1 in 6, and Harry, choosing a spot at once, could have “landed” anywhere within a radius of about twelve miles. As the machine proceeded further on its course and became lighter and lighter due to the consumption of petrol and oil, the radius within which it could “land” would become correspondingly greater owing to the increasingly fine gliding angle. This fact was one to give the two pioneers added confidence, seeing that ships which under the circumstances prevailing near the start would have been beyond range, if encountered later on in the flight might have been within the gliding range.
When Raynham was asked why he had not any safety device such as boats and tank-exhausters, his reply was that he “proposed to fly the Atlantic, not to fall into it.”
Sir Charles Harris, Governor of Newfoundland, handed Harry a letter for delivery to His Majesty the King, and, with members of the Cabinet and several naval and military officers, inspected the machine on Saturday, April 12th.
Among many visitors was Harry’s old friend Raynham, and Harry returned the call on the following day. The two who, six and a half years before, had struggled for the British Duration Record were now matched for Atlantic honours.
After the inspection the tanks were filled, and on the main planes seals were attached by the representative of the Royal Aero Club, Major Partridge, who gave Harry an envelope addressed to the secretary of the club, in which the number of the engine and a list of identification marks were enclosed for Harry to deliver on landing. Truly for Harry and Grieve it was now only a matter of sitting still and awaiting the pleasure of the elements. Before the tanks were filled the petrol and oil were strained six times.
A storm in mid-ocean was reported early in the day (April 12th), with westerly winds right across the Atlantic, which caused Harry to decide to start at 5 o’clock in the afternoon, but when 5 o’clock came preparations were not complete, so a further postponement until 6 o’clock was made. But the weather conditions went from uncertain to bad, and thence to worse, with a westerly gale blowing at St. Johns, and so the flight had to be declared “off” for that day. But at the first opportunity a start would be made, and this was provisionally fixed for mid-day on the morrow, Sunday.