OVER LONDON IN BALLOON

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 572, 26 January 1929, Page 26

OVER LONDON IN BALLOON

Thrills That Only WarTime Observers Knew . . . The Uses of Sand and a Grapnel . . .

’Written for THE *SI A by tr.f.-1.L.; ■ HEN ex-King Amauullah London be was entertained in sumptuous attended by Yeoman of the Tower he was feasted by London's first eitizeix in the presence of Gog and Magog; he saw the new ixiechanieal army at work upon Salisbury Plain; went to sea ixx a submarine —a novelty for an Afghan and witnessed the Air Force dropping bombs. By all tbese things he was i “impressed.” But what succeeded in lxxoving the impassive Amanxillah to an j almost poetic acclamation was a flight over London in an air liner. This he 1 described in his delight as “the ] greatest thrill the West has given! me.” Since then, of course, he has 1 had greater thrills —provided by the East. What would have given him an even j greater “Western” thrill and an even j more wonderful and comprehensive! view (but with far too much risk and uncertainty for a visiting potentate) j would have been a glide over London at a height of anything from a few hundred to a few thousand feet in a balloon. Part of the training of hundreds of balloon observers during the war was to undertake six trips in a free ballon starting from the Oval at Kennington; | the first five with a pilot and other j passengers and the last occasion a “solo trip.” | Each balloon had a capacity of 27,000 cubic feet of gas and the con- ■ tents of the basket, the equipment for I the trip, consisted of a dozen bags of | sand, an altimeter, a trail rope and a | grapnel with rope. No sport could be more fascinating, ; novel, gloriously uncertain and exciting. The pilot sets out for an un- | known destination to be reached he knows not when. He does not know how or where lie will land —whether he will alight on earth or water or at what speed the wind will take him. i Shaded fi-onx the sun by the great I envelope of gas, without a breath of I wind (for the balloon answers to the ! slightest breeze) in an atmosphere as | clear as crystal and hearing no sound but the faint echoes of the great city below, all that the pilot can do is to manoeuvre up or down; to pull the ; valve and release some gas and hover i over the city streets or to throw out j sand and rise higher and yet higher. ! Starting, he must rise from the j ground as quickly as possible so as !to avoid contact with wires, a stray gasometer, a factory chimney or church spire. Rising to a reasonable height he must stabilise the balloon—it will be continually rising and falling—and then he can look around. London is spread out like a huge

map—flat. All hills and valleys appear foreshortened from above. Through the centre of it all winds and shine* the silver Thames crossed at intervals by Us many bridges. It is a strange London, totally unfamiliar when seen from this angle Many of Us finest buildings cannot be seen properly from the ground hemmed in as they are, by other buildings. One can only see part* of St. Pauls and then at close quarters one turns a corner in Bloomsbury and conies upon the British Museum unawares; but up above comes the realisation of their full size and grandeur. Interesting, too, is a glimpse from the air of the great London railway termini. The network of lines grows more and more complicated as it approaches the city and converges slightly, in bottleneck fashion, until they enter gigantic “sheds"—Liverpool Street, Paddington. Waterloo Victoria, Charing Cross, Euston, King s Cross . . . there they are, and into these long black “sheds” and out again pass millions of human beings and thousands of trains, in perfect order and without a hitch, night and day throughout the year. And then one throws out more sand and London has disappeared! As far as the eye can see stretch dazzling white fleecy clouds —sometimes flat and smooth like snow upon the Steppes—sometimes piled in mountain masses—ever changing, ever taking on new shapes. One is almost tempted to get out and walk and then through a hole in the filmy floor one catches a glimpse of the “map” thousands of feet below. Now the pilot must pull the rope w-hich opens the valve and releases some gas. It is necessary to descend for he must not lose his bearings. The wind has carried him beyond the suburbs, out into the open country Out goes the trail rope. 200 feet or mere. As the balloon flies low the rope will trail through trees, over houses, perhaps carrying away telegraph wires; but the balloon is slackening speed. Now is the time to throw out the grapnel. This will anchor the balloon to something. One trusts to luck and says like Potasii and Perlmutter “let's hope its nothing expensive.” Then, if all goes well and according to programme the gTeat balloon is finally brought to earth, packed up, put on the nearest train and “returned to sender.”