Flights & Flyers

Glorious Failure. The four men in the Southern Cross strained eyes and ears. Surely they should have sighted Cape Race by this time. Surely an intelligible radio bearing should come to guide them Major Charles Kingsford-Smith scowled at the grey fog outside his cockpit, cursed the compasses that pointed crazily to East and West. Beside him stolid Dutch Evert Van Dyk held the controls, stared straight ahead. In the cabin behind him Radioman John Stannage frantically worked key and dials. Navigator J. Patrick Saul searched in vain for a patch of sky that he might fix his sextant to a star. Now their latest radio bearing showed them 175 miles east of the Cape, when they had thought it only 75 miles.

This was the Grand Banks fog, the bete noire they had armed themselves against before taking off from Portniar-nock, Ireland. This was the fog that had swallowed Nungesser and CoU; Hamilton and the Princess Loewenstein-Wertheim; that nearly claimed von Huenefeld and the Bremen pilots. Now their own fuel was running low. No chance of making New York nonstop, or even U. S. soil. They must be somewhere near Harbor Grace Newfoundland, but how see the airport through such a fog? Then came a rift. The plane dived through it to a perfect landing at Harbor Grace. Thus last week after 31 trying hours, the Fokker Southern Cross, already famed for its flight from California to Australia (TIME June 18 1928) from Australia to England, became the second to make a nonstop flight westward across the Atlantic and land on North American soil, first to continue into the U. S.

Next day the Southern Cross flew on to New York and a rowdy reception at Roosevelt Field, Long Island. Manhattan claimed the quartet as its heroes, ignored the suggestion of failure in the enforced stop in Newfoundland; saw only the glory in their achievement. From Washington hurried British Ambassador Sir Ronald Lindsay to extend the congratulations of his government.

But eagerly the Major accepted an invitation to telephone his fiancee, Mary Powell in Melbourne, Australia, nearly an hour, the conversation went on: "Oh no, I'm not going to fly back across the Atlantic . . . we're flying right on to San Francisco. I'll try to dispose of the plane there Our September [wedding] date still stands, darling.

Spartan Brothers. Kenneth Hunter's tooth ached. John Hunter clung hard to the control stick to keep from falling asleep Their second-hand Stinson Detroiter, City of Chicago, its left wing tank leaking badly, listed far to the right. The Wright J-6 motor coughed and sputtered after 18 days of continuous flight. Brothers Walter and Albert Hunter came up in their Plane Big Ben for the 154th time with gas and oil, with a meal prepared by Sister Irene John and Kenneth pushed on on, circling Chicago's Sky Harbor airport-finally waggled their wings in triumphant acknowledgment of the cheers they knew were coming from the crowd below. Thus, last week, did the Family Hunter of Sparta, Ill., break the endurance record of 420 hr. 21 min. set last year by Dale ("Red") Jackson and Forrest O'Brine in the St. Louis Robin (TIME, Aug. 12).

Utterly exhausted, afraid to close an eye lest the man at the controls doze off and wreck the plane, John and Kenneth yet refused to land, insisted they were feeling fine." boasted they would flog their complaining craft along until July 4.

To the Hunters the victory was epochal. It meant, they hoped, $200,000 in bonuses from fuel, radio, cigaret and food companies. Failure would have meant a return to the coal mines of Sparta, to make up the $11,000 staked in the attempt.

Bermuda Round Trip. Roger Q. Williams and Lewis A. Yancey last year flew from the U. S. to Spain, to Italy, then quarreled. Recently Yancey in a seaplane flew from Long Island to Bermuda with an interrupting forced landing at sea. Last week while he was in Buenos Aires "good-willing," Williams, with Harry P. Connors (Navy-trained navigator) and Errol Boyd (onetime Royal Air Force-trained copilot) flew from Long Island to Bermuda, did not alight, banked and returned to their start in 17 hr. 8 min., first time such trip had been done. Their ship was the Columbia, Clarence D. Chamberlin & Charles A. Levine's 1927 trans-Atlantic transport.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.