Twenty Years Since Bleriot Crossed Channel

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 786, 5 October 1929, Page 22

Twenty Years Since Bleriot Crossed Channel

MAN WHO MADE HISTORY

■ Britons made the first flight across the Atlantic. The echoes of Colonel Lindbergh and his achievement as he flew from New York to Paris have died down, and flyers can no longer hope to create a sensation by crossing the Atlantic. But great honours have recently been showered upon the man who startled the whole world, just 20 yeai-s ago, by capturing a £5,000 prize for the first man to fly across the English Channel. That man was Bleriot. On July 25, 1909, the papers carried the startling news that in the early morning of that day a portly and redmoustached man of 37, calmly descended from the saddle, limping on a bandaged foot, after having stolen a march on his rivals and flown from Calais to the white cliffs of Dover. The old seaport town experienced the keenest thrill know'll in a generation when a white-winged, birdlike machine, with loudly humming motor, swept out from the haze obscuring the sea along the distant French coast and, circling twice above the high chalky cliffs, alighted on English soil. The finish of this “most remarkable feat” was witnessed by a few soldiers who happened to be passing by, and by two of Bleriot’s compatriots, who frantically waved the tricolore to indicate a safe landing place.

All this sounds ridiculously commonplace to us today. But how sensational 20 years ago! Bleriot left Les Baraquos three miles from Calais about 4.30 in the morning and, with one of the smallest monoplanes ever made, he crossed the Channel in a little less than half an hour—half the time of the fastest mail boat.

45 Miles An Hour He travelled at the rate of 45 miles an hour, and more than once his noisy machine made an ominous descent toward the waters, but he was able to right himself and sail about 250 ft above sea level; the height that would guarantee safe and easy landing on English soil. Here is a description of an eye-witness of the landing: Yery early in the morning a wireless message was received from Calais that Bleriot intended to make the flight. Then in quick successif came the news that he had left land, that he was flying high and was fast making IJover. It was expected that he would land west of Dover, but from the direction taken it was soon evident that he would alight to the eastward. Only a few minutes after the wireless announced the start, the laconic message, “out of sight,” was received at Dover. Hardly had this been transcribed when the keen-eyed coastguard, scanning the sea with his telescope, shouted that Bleriot was within sight. In this way the Frenchman "outfiew his two rivals, both of whom intended this very day to make the attempt, Hubert Latham and Count De Lambert. How appropriate that on the occasion of France’s enthusiastic welcome to America’s “Flying Viking,” there should be standing near him the man who with the facilities then available took as great a risk as those who have since his day braved the storms and lonely leagues of the Atlantic, and who, in capturing the coveted prize of that day, showed a courage and daring which inspired the movement that makes continents the jumping off places and tl e poles objectives. Lindbergh’s Tribute “Less than 20 years ago when I was not far advanced from infancy,” said Charles Lindbergh, as he stood to receive the greetings of the members of the French Chamber of Deputies, “M. Bleriot, here beside me, flew across the English Channel and he was asked, ‘What good is your airplane? What good will it accomplish?’ What will it not accomplish when used in the service of men and in binding nations more closely together.” Bleriot knew as little English as Lindbergh knew of French, but his own version of this unique achievement 20 years- ago is here transcribed. “I arose at three o’clock and went to the airplane shed. Finding everything in order, I decided to make the flight. The French torpedoboat destroyer which was in attendance was signalled and it put out about four miles. Then I rose in the air and pointed directly to Dover. After 10 minutes I was out of sight of land and had left the \varship farbehind. For a few minutes I could not see either coast or any boat. I tried to keep at an average height of 250 ft. I might easily have gone higher but it would have served no purpose. This was about the right height to clear the Dover cliffs safely. “The machine dipped toward the water several times. I put ou more petrol once. . . . The first objects I saw -were ships off the English coast, then I observed Deal and I discovered that the -wind which was south-west was carrying me thither. X veered to the southward to Dover Castle and then saw friends flourishing a flag in a valley suitable for landing. I made two circles while lessening the speed and then dived down, but I came in contact with the ground sooner than I expected. Both the machine and myself were badly shaken.”