CLIPPER SHIP'S CAPTAIN

Hawke's Bay Herald-Tribune, Issue 58, 24 March 1937, Page 5

CLIPPER SHIP'S CAPTAIN

• An Accomplished Pilot Before the War SOME TYPICAL STORIES Captain Edwin C. Musiek, now rated Pilot No. 1 on the world 's longest airline, has spent five years of his life in an airplane, says J. D. Eateliffe in an article in "Esquire" on the man who will fly the Pan- American Clipper plane to Auckland. He started logging these hours in 1913 at Los Angeles. By the time of the war he was an accomplished pilot. Not caring to risk his neck-— finished pilots were too rare in those days — the Government assigned him to teaching, first at Wichita Falls, later at Miami. In 1931 he joined one of the country 's first commercial airlines— the Aeromarine Flying Serviee — whieh ran ships between Bimini, Nassau and Havana. On this run he received valuable flying-boat practice and started building his reputation. Aeromarine 's ships were painted white, and Musick kept them as clean as an old maid's kitchen. The six pilots under him he drove like a bunch of steers. If the planes weren't spotlessly clean, if their White paint didn't glisten, it was somebody's neck. Sometimes he carried this to an extreme. A native blaek, helping doek one of Aeromarine 's big flying boats, tumbled into the shark-infested waters. Figh appeared from e very where and the black, an ashen grey by then, clambered up the side of the plane. Musick, watching the swift performance gravely from the cabin, leaned out and bawled: "Hey, xf you climb np there, don't mar that paint. ' ' In the autumn of 1927, Juan Trippe organised a ferry-boat airline to fly the 93 miles between Havana and Key West and gave it a resounding label: Pan- American Airways. The scrubby line needed a pilot who knew what a tropical kurricane looked like and also how to handle a flying boat. Musick got the job. Instead of losing Ms hand, Musick got better as each new series of PanAmeriean planes came out. Literally he grew up with the line — and became as flne a piece of maehinery as any plane ever turned over to him. He has flown more than 1100 round trips out of Miami for Latin-American ports, has never had a serious accident, has never lost a passenger. As this^ imposing record grows the flying Coolidge becomes even more tacturn, more slavish to regulations than he was ia the old -Aeromarine days.

If the rfile book calls for a black string neekllo and a pilot appears in a black knitted tie, Musick is distressed. Faney socks or an unpressed uniform will probably bring on an apopletic stroke one day. Musick dislikes any f olde-rol, any unneeessary wordiness. A conple of stories originated a year and ahalf ago on his first flight tq Hawaii. When h© put his plane down on the island, 2,550 miles from the Alameda, California base, Pilot No, 1 found he was off schedule. He apologised briefly to Ms company for arriving 60 seconds early. That same flight a Pan-American Press agent had a brain storm. He wanted new angles on the trip for the various wire serviees. Finally he had an idea— and a very pretty one it was; a deseription of a plane, hundreds of miles out in the Pacific, flying into tho setting sun. Enthusiastieally he deseribed the story to Musick and asked him to wireless it back. He groaned when it arrived. The message "Sunset, 7.58 Musick. ' ' A pretty drab fellow you might say. But there are a couple of poiuts about him worth remembering. He holds more aviation records than any other individual; good, solid dependable records on certaxn distances flown with eertain loads and at eertain speeds. Furthermore, his subordinates idolise him. To them he is a benevolent Huperior, trying at times, yes, but always making them do things that will be best for them in the end.