All flights are exhibition flights. The day of a quiet, mind-your-own-business type of aerial journey has not yet arrived. Exhibition performances of any sort are generally hazardous. There were nine men killed in one recent automobile meet. If the automobile were used exclusively for races and contests, the percentage of fatalities might easily exceed that in aviation. It is claimed that no inexperienced aviator has ever been killed. This may not be true, but there is no doubt that the larger number of accidents has occurred to the better-known men from whom the public expects something daring.
Probably the best summing up of the danger of aviation may be obtained from the insurance companies. The courts have decided that an individual does not forfeit his life insurance by making an occasional balloon trip. Regular classified rates for aeroplane and balloon operators are in force in France and Germany. It is reported that Mr. Grahame-White carries a life insurance policy at 35% premium—about the same rate as that paid by a “crowned head.” Another aviator of a less professional type has been refused insurance even at 40% premium. Policies of insurance may be obtained covering damage to machines by fire or during transportation and by collisions with other machines; and covering liability for injuries to persons other than the aviator.
On the whole, flying is an ultra-hazardous occupation; but an occasional flight by a competent person or by a passenger with a careful pilot is simply a thrilling experience, practically no more dangerous than many things we do without hesitation. Nearly all accidents have been due to preventable causes; and it is simply a matter of science, skill, perseverance, and determination to make an aerial excursion under proper conditions as safe as a journey in a motor car. Men who for valuable prizes undertake spectacular feats will be killed as frequently in aviation as in bicycle or even in automobile racing; but probably not very much more frequently, after design and workmanship in flying machines shall have been perfected. The total number of deaths in aviation up to February 9, 1911, is stated to have been forty-two.
What It Is Like to Fly
We are fond of comparing flying machines with birds, with fish, and with ships: and there are useful analogies with all three. A drifting balloon is like a becalmed ship or a dead fish. It moves at the speed of the aerial fluid about it and the occupants perceive no movement whatever. The earth’s surface below appears to move in the opposite direction to that in which the wind carries the balloon. With a dirigible balloon or flying machine, the sensation is that of being exposed to a violent wind, against which (by observation of landmarks) we find that we progress. It is the same experience as that obtained when standing in an exposed position on a steamship, and we wonder if a bird or a fish gradually gets so accustomed to the opposing current as to be unconscious of it. But in spite of jar of motors and machinery, there is a freedom of movement, a detachment from earth-associations, in air flight, that distinguishes it absolutely from the churning of a powerful vessel through the waves.
View from a Balloon