Having heard rumors that suitable ground might be found at Ferryland, we motored there on May the eighteenth, and it was while returning from yet another disappointment that we learned of Hawker's disappearance into the Atlantic mists. Excitement and anxiety about the possible fate of Hawker and Grieve spread all the world over; but nowhere was it more intense than among us at the Cochrane Hotel, who had shared their hopes and discussed their plans. We were a gloomy crowd indeed until St. John's heard the sensational story of their rescue.
Raynham, meanwhile, although very disappointed after the setback that damaged his machine, kept alight the candle of hope and the torch of determination. Before it was possible to know whether or not Hawker had succeeded, he made arrangements for repair and decided to try again. He also invited Alcock and me to use his ground for erecting the Vickers-Vimy. A similar invitation was given by Captain Fenn, now in charge of the Sopwith party.
Neither aërodrome would be suitable for our final "take off"; but we accepted Raynham's very sporting offer, and arranged to build up the Vickers-Vimy, which was expected to arrive any day, on his aërodrome at Quidi Vidi, while continuing the search for a more suitable field.
Our mechanics arrived with machine and engines on May the twenty-sixth, and we set to work at once on its erection. This was carried out in the open air, amid many obstacles and with much improvization, sheerlegs for example, being constructed out of scaffolding poles. Raynham let us use his hangar as a store.
All the Vickers party worked hard and cheerfully from early dawn until dark, each man being on strenuous duty from twelve to fourteen hours a day. Two mechanics remained on guard each night, while the remainder drove about three miles to their billets.
During the whole of this period of a thousand and one difficulties, each mechanic gave of his best, and I cannot pay too high a tribute to those men who labored for us so competently and painstakingly, and yet received none of the glory. Even those who were but indirectly concerned in the venture searched for opportunities of helping us. The reporters representing the Daily Mail, the New York Times, and the New York World were often of assistance when extra man-power was required. But for one of the American reporters—Mr. Klauber—we should have been obliged to start without an electric torch when our own failed at the last moment.
It was, indeed, a nerve-edging time until the machine approached completion. Each day produced some new difficulty. Alcock kept his head and his temper admirably, however, and his intelligent supervision of the mechanics' work was an effective insurance against loss of time.
As the parts of the Vickers-Vimy grew into the semblance of a complete aëroplane it attracted more and more visitors. Many rubbernecks, who seemed to have no other occupation, spent hours in leaning on the nearest fence and watching us. Soon we found it necessary to build a temporary enclosure round the machine. Even that did not keep the curious at a distance. We remained unworried so long as the crowd contented itself with just watching; but the visitors forced us to take special precautions against damage. The testing of the fabric's firmness with the point of an umbrella was a favorite pastime of theirs, and more than once we dispersed small parties whom we found leaning against the trailing-edges, much as Australian soldiers on leave from France used to lean against the lamp-posts of the Strand. One man held his lighted cigar against a wing, and was quite annoyed when asked to keep at a distance.
We were still unsuccessful in our search for an aërodrome. One day a telegram arrived from a landowner in Harbor Grace, offering what he called an ideal field. Alcock raced off to inspect and secure it; but when he returned in the evening his one-sided grin told me that we were still out of luck. "The ideal aërodrome" was a meadow about one hundred and fifty by three hundred yards—and the price demanded for its hire was twenty-five thousand dollars plus the cost of getting it ready and an indemnity for all damage. Land sells in Newfoundland at thirty-five cents an acre.