THREE GALLONS OVER

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 485, 15 October 1928, Page 1

THREE GALLONS OVER

Thrilling Story of Long Battle Against Hard, Relentless Winds

WAY LOST AT NEWCASTLE r-DAY Kingsford Smith’s face will wear again that winning smile, for he and his companions have won out once more. It was a hard battle against wind and storm. The Southern Cross reached Sydney in 22 hours 51 minutes from

Blenheim, whereas it took only 14 hours 12 minutes to fly from Sydney to Christchurch. The way was lost at Newcastle, and valuable time was spent, with the petrol getting fearfully low. Only three gallons were left when the plane landed. It was a courageous fight against heavy odds; but the end crowned the toil, for Sydney welcomed the airmen in Sydney

fashion, thousands having waited till the morning to acclaim these bold pioneers of long-distance air travel.

(United P.A.—By Telegraph — Copyright)

SYDNEY, Sunday. "How do you do, everybody? Hero we are. We are glad to have a word with you. We have only three gallons of petrol left, but here we are.” In these words Squadron-Leader C. E. Kingsford Smith, the people’s idol of the moment, greeted the waiting thousands on the wireless in Australia and New Zealand soon after he had stepped down from the Southern Cross at the end of the epic flight of his three companions and himself from the Dominion. The plane made the Australian coast st midnight at Newcastle. Thick, heavy weather made the task of groping their way to Richmond difficult. Reports came in rapid succession from various points that the plane had been observed, but in the haze there was much uncertainty as to its location. Consequently the thousands of people gathered at Richmond airdrome and the other thousands waiting in their homes listening -to the wireless accounts of the Southern Cross, spent an anxious time. Finally, at 2.15 a.m., Sydney time, Kingsford Smith brought the plane down and made a perfect landing amid the plaudits of the huge crowd of spectators who had maintained an allnight vigil. CONFIDENT ALL THE WAY Those last two hours had been filled with alternating hopes, exultations and fears as the news filtered through the air that the plane had been seen, or heard, here, there and elsewhere, and then had been lost in silence for a while, evidently trying to pick up its bearings. The actual flying time was 22 hours 51 minutes. Two hours were occupied on the stage from Newcastle to Richmond, in coming down the coast, then across North Sydney westward to the airdrome. Kingsford Smith told the crowd they had encountered a strong head wind all the way and that on the journeydown from Newcastle they had to turn back to pick up their bearings. Fog also gave trouble. “Never at any time did I feel that we would fail,” said the pilot, “although I knew we were cutting things pretty fine.” The first person to greet the airmen was “Doc.” Maidment, the man who had superintended the plane’s engines. Kingsford Smith assured him the engines had run splendidly. Next came Mrs. Smith, the airman's mother. Their affectionate meeting was soon ended by the hero-hunting crowd, however, and the personal touch was gone in a twinkling. SHOULDER-HIGH Kingsford Smith and Flight Lieutenant Ulm and Messrs. Litchfield and McWilliam were seized by the cheering, surging crowd and carried shoulder high across the field. They were rescued from their too boisterous admirers by a party of police and Air Force men and taken to the shelter of tile hangar. It was an amazing welcome. The crowd plunged through toe barriers. Cheers and motor-horns made a wild babel of sound, which almost drowned .•* r °ar of the giant Fokker’s engines before they stopped. The air™en at last got free and left for their homes.

Mrs. Ulm carried her husband off m triumph. Kingsford Smith accomimnied his family and the other two men found much-needed rest with

friends. But the crowd remained a long time discussing the great event and the incidents of the night. HEART-BREAKING ODDS Yesterday’s crossing of the Tasman briefly is a story of wonderful achievement against almost heartbreaking odds. With the first streaks of dawn, after leaving Blenheim, the plane ran into a cold, biting, westerly. Realising the impossibility of the heavily-loaded machine climbing high to fly over this head wind which dogged the airmen all day, Kingsford Smith tried for hours to creep along beneath it. Ulm gives a vivid glimpse of that attempt with the rolling seas barely 500 ft. below and the plane pitching through the buffeting gale. The Southern Cross, with her powerful triple engines, could at one time do no more than 49 knots. This lends emphasis to the recent statement by Kingsford Smith insisting that any regular trans-Tasman service of flyingboats must employ craft powerful enough to climb above a tempest in emergency. Thousands of congratulatory messages are pouring in upon the intrepid crew of the Southern Cross. Among the first was one from the Prime Minister, Mr. Bruce, expressing his gratification at the successful termination of the great flight. He said it was the most severe test to which Kingsford Smith and Ulm had been subjected. They came through with the same courage, determination and skill that marked their previous flights. The people of Australia had followed their fortunes throughout the day and night with the greatest anxiety and rejoiced that they were safely back. BATTLE WITH THE WINDS ULM TELLS THE STORY WAY LOST AT NEWCASTLE (United. P.A.—By Telegraph — Copyrigjit) SYDNEY, Sunday. [The following- narrative of the Southern Cross flight has been written for the Australian and New Zealand Press Association by Flight-Lieutenant C. T. P. Ulm. ] Wo took off at 4.55, New Zealand time, using about half a mile runway, and at 5 o’clock were passing over the town of Blenheim. At. 5.5 w© were passing over Cook Strait in a stiff north-westerly wind. We were escorted for the first 20 minutes by two New Zealand Air Force Bristol fighters, piloted by our friends, Captains Findlay and Buckley. The escort left us at 5.15. AN EARLY STORM It was particularly bumpy in Cook Strait, and before leaving the Strait we encountered our first rain storm and very strong head winds, probably over 40 miles an hour. In view of the generally adverse weather conditions we had decided, after consulting with Dr. Kidson, to set a north-westerly course fer the first 500 or 600 miles, and at 5.30 a.m. were on the first leg of this course, 309 degrees true. Our altitude was 600 ft, with thick clouds above, light rain and poor visibility. At 6.35 a.m. we passed two ships on the port beam. The visibility was still poor with strong N.N.W. winds.

controls for an hour, flying through several scattered rain storms at about 500 ft. At about 7.30 a.m. we encountered a very heavy rain storm and many heavy bumps. Smithy took over the controls as, we entered our first patch of blind Hying, which was rather trying at such a low altitude. But we decided to remain low unless the weather became particularly violent, and we knew we would meet even stronger head winds in the higher levels. DIRECT COURSE SET At 8.35 a.m. we came out of the storm, which continued away to the north, and here was the first sign of an abatement of the head winds. Up till 8.40 a.m., when I again relieved Smithy at the controls, our ground speed had not averaged more than 55 knots. At 10.55 a.m. we received a wireless weather report from Dr. Kidson indicating probable south-westerly winds. I therefore instructed Litchfield to set a direct course for Sydney. At 12.15, New Zealand time, our position was latitude 38.03 degrees south, longitude 168.35 degrees east, and we then realised that we would take probably 23 hours on the trip. From then to 2.30 p.m. the wind appeared to increase and we passed through several jsmall patches of light rain. At 2.30 p.m. Litchfield gave our position as 720 nautical miles from | Sydney. At 3.15 p.m. at an altitude of 450 ft we were against a strong head wind, but the visibility was quite fair. The sun was out. but a gusty wind made the trip quite bumpy. At 5 p.m. our ground speed was improving, and we were then about 530 nautical miles from Sydney. We had previously moved our course to the northward, but at 5 p.m. again changed back to a direct course for Sydney. Our air speed was 78 knots, and our ground speed about 62 knots Throughout the whole of the daytime Smithy and I about halved the flying, but as nightfall set in I was troubled with a bad cold in the back and after that was only able to relieve Smithy occasionally for short half-hourly spells. At 7.20 p.m. we were about 400 nautical miles from the Australian coast The visibility was good and our altitude was 2,200 ft, revolutions 1,650. Our climbing and air speed was 74 knots. It was becoming much colder, but the wind was decreasing as forecasted by both Dr. Kidson and Mr. Hunt, the Commonwealth meteorologist.

SQUALLS AND BUMPS At 9 p.m. Litchfield reported that- he could not then get a fixed position for us, but our dead reckoning position was 34 degrees 18 south and our longitude by observation 156 degrees 52 east, and the distance from Sydney about 300 nautical miles. From 9 p.m. until midnight we climbed fairly steadily, occasionally going through light rain squalls and sometimes heavy bumps, but although it was cold there was no sign of ice forming anywhere on the machine. Throughout the trip McWilliam kept our radio gear functioning perfectly and secured many valuable weatheb reports from New Zealand and Australia for us. At about 7.30 p.m we received a Sydney weather forecast advising us to expect southerly winds changing to moderate easterlies on approaching Sydney, and the forecast for the landing time was “cloudy with fairly thick clouds about 1,500 ft up.” COASTAL LIGHTS SEEN

We first sighted some coastal lights at 12.45 a.m., but it was not until 1.15 a.m. that we picked up the city lights to the southward. We were then undecided as to whether this was Sydney or Newcastle, but we came down low and I recognised Stockton Beach, where I had once been in a forced landing some years before.

We flew fairly low over Newcastle and then headed for Sydney. Gradually climbing through very thick clouds and reaching about B,oooft, we must have come more than half-way to Sydney, when we realised that there would be little chance of our picking up the city through the dense clouds.

We did not care to risk coming * down through the clouds without knowing what was underneath us, so we turned back again to Newcastle, and when we estimated we were over that place, we climbed down through the clouds and were out of them at 800 ft. Then we picked up the Newcastle lights.

This trip up and down the coast was rather worrying for our supply of petrol was running low. and although we had enough to take us to Sydney and then on to Richmond, we were faced with the probability of a forced landing at night without lights. There was a thick fog over Sydney and Richmond, and we were unable to get up.der it. On the second trip down from Newcastle we kept below I,oooft all the way, and even then we were sometimes in the lowest part of the clouds. We soon sighted Sydney and easily found our way to Richmond at an altitude of not more than 600 ft as the Parramatta Road was thick with the headlights of motor-cars returning from the airdrome. We had previously received wireless reports from Richmond stating that the flood-lighting system had broken down, but that ground flares would be put out for us. When we were approaching the airdrome itself we were surprised to see the number of cars and

the thousands of people out at that early hour to meet us. At 3.55 a.m. Smithy made a really perfect landing in conditions not entirely suitable. After the machine ran on the ground we taxied her round and intended to take her to the hangar, but were worried at the way the crowd seemed to be rushing the machine. So we switched off all the motors to prevent the possibility of anyone being struck by the propellers. We were met at the officers’ mess by the Commanding Officer, Leader Lukis, Colonel H. C. Brinsmead, controller of civil aviation, Captain Geoffrey Hughes, president of the Aero Club, and numerous other officials and friends. Litchfield and McWilliam were apparently whisked away by their friends, or by the admiring crowd, for I have not seen them since we landed. However, Smithy and I returned almost immediately to our homes and had a much-needed sleep. FLIGHT STORY BY RADIO The flight story, told over the air as the plane winged its mv onward, appears on Page 11. ~2. Further cabled news about it is on Page 9.