Chapter VIII.
FLYING MACHINES: HOW TO OPERATE.
Instinctive balance—When the motor skips—Progressive experience—Plum Island School methods—Lilienthal’s conclusions—The Curtiss mechanism and controls—Speed records—Cross-country flying—Landing—Essential qualifications—Ground practice—Future relief.
Any one who has learned to ride a bicycle will recall the great difficulty at first experienced to preserve equilibrium. But once the knack was gained, how simple the matter seemed! Balancing became a second nature, which came into play instinctively, without conscious thought or effort. On smooth roads it was not even necessary to grasp the handle-bars. The swaying of the body was sufficient to guide the machine in the desired direction.
Much of this experience is paralleled by that of the would-be aviator. First, he must acquire the art of balancing himself and his machine in the air without conscious effort. Unfortunately, this is even harder than in the case of the bicycle. The cases would be more nearly alike if the road beneath and ahead of the bicyclist were heaving and falling as in an earthquake, with no light to guide him; for the air currents on which the aviator must ride are in constant and irregular motion, and are as wholly invisible to him as would be the road at night to the rider of the wheel.
And there are other things to distract the attention of the pilot of an aeroplane—notably the roar of the propeller, and the rush of wind in his face, comparable only to the ceaseless and breath-taking force of the hurricane.
The well-known aviator, Charles K. Hamilton, says:—“So far as the air currents are concerned, I rely entirely on instinctive action; but my ear is always on the alert. The danger signal of the aviator is when he hears his motor miss an explosion. Then he knows that trouble is in store. Sometimes he can speed up his engine, just as an automobile driver does, and get it to renew its normal action. But if he fails in this, and the motor stops, he must dip his deflecting planes, and try to negotiate a landing in open country. Sometimes there is no preliminary warning from the motor that it is going to cease working. That is the time when the aviator must be prepared to act quickly. Unless the deflecting planes are manipulated instantly, aviator and aeroplane will rapidly land a tangled mass on the ground.”
Result of a failure to deflect the planes quickly enough when the engine stopped. The operator fortunately escaped with but a few bruises.
At the same time, Mr. Hamilton says: “Driving an aeroplane at a speed of 120 miles an hour is not nearly so difficult a task as driving an automobile 60 miles an hour. In running an automobile at high speed the driver must be on the job every second. Nothing but untiring vigilance can protect him from danger. There are turns in the road, bad stretches of pavement, and other like difficulties, and he can never tell at what moment he is to encounter some vehicle, perhaps travelling in the opposite direction. But with an aeroplane it is a different proposition. Once a man becomes accustomed to aeroplaning, it is a matter of unconscious attention.... He has no obstacles to encounter except cross-currents of air. Air and wind are much quicker than a man can think and put his thought into action. Unless experience has taught the aviator to maintain his equilibrium instinctively, he is sure to come to grief.”