EVENING
For a time Alcock and I attempted short conversations through the
telephone. Its earpieces were under our fur caps, and round our necks
were sensitive receivers for transmitting the throat vibrations that
accompany speech. At about six o'clock Alcock discarded his earpieces
because they were too painful; and for the rest of the flight we
communicated in gestures and by scribbled notes.
I continued to keep the course by "dead reckoning," taking into
account height, compass bearing, strength of wind, and my previous
observations. The wind varied quite a lot, and several times the nose
of the Vickers-Vimy swayed from the right direction, so that I had to
make rapid mental allowances for deviation.
The results I made known to Alcock by passing over slips of paper torn
from my notebook. The first of these was the direction: "_Keep her
nearer 120 than 140._"
The second supplied the news that the transmitter was useless:
"_Wireless generator smashed. The propeller has gone._"
Throughout the evening we flew between a covering of unbroken cloud and
a screen of thick fog, which shut off the sea completely. My scribbled
comment to the pilot at 5:45 was: "_I can't get an obs. in this fog.
Will estimate that same wind holds and work by dead reckoning._"
Despite the lack of external guidance, the early evening was by no
means dull. Just after six the starboard engine startled us with a
loud, rhythmic chattering, rather like the noise of machine-gun fire at
close quarters. With a momentary thought of the engine trouble which
had caused Hawker and Grieve to descend in mid-Atlantic, we both looked
anxiously for the defect.
This was not hard to find. A chunk of exhaust pipe had split away, and
was quivering before the rush of air like a reed in an organ pipe.
It became first red, then white-hot; and, softened by the heat, it
gradually crumpled up. Finally it was blown away, with the result
that three cylinders were exhausting straight into the air, without
guidance through the usual outlet.
The chattering swelled into a loud, jerky thrum, much more prominent
than the normal noise of a Rolls-Royce aëro-engine. This settled down
to a steady and continuous roar.
Until we landed nothing could be done to the broken exhaust pipe, and
we had to accept it as a minor disaster, unpleasant but irremediable.
Very soon my ears had become so accustomed to the added clamor that it
passed unnoticed.
I must admit, however, that although my mind contained no room for
impressions dealing with incidents not of vital importance, I was far
from comfortable when I first observed that a little flame, licking
outward from the open exhaust, was playing on one of the cross-bracing
wires and had made it red-hot. This trouble could not be lessened by
throttling down the starboard engine, as in that case we should have
lost valuable height.
The insistent hum of the engines, in fact, made the solitude seem
more normal. The long flight would have been dreadful had we made
it in silence; for, shut off as we were from sea and sky, it was a
very lonely affair. At this stage the spreading fog enveloped the
Vickers-Vimy so closely that our sheltered cockpit suggested an
isolated but by no means cheerless room.
Moisture condensed on goggles, dial glasses and wires when, at about
seven, we rose through a layer of clouds on the two thousand foot
level. Alcock wore no goggles, by the way, and I made use of mine only
when leaning over the side of the fuselage to take observations.
Emerging into the air above the clouds, I looked upward, and found
another stretch of cloud-bank still higher, at five thousand feet.
We thus remained cut off from the sun. Still guided only by "dead
reckoning," the Vickers-Vimy continued along the airway between a white
cloud-ceiling and a white cloud-carpet.
I was very anxious for an opportunity to take further observations
either of the sun or of the stars, so as to check the direction by
finding our correct position. At 7:40 I handed Alcock the following
note: "_If you get above clouds we will get a good fix[1] to-night, and
hope for clear weather to-morrow. Not at any risky expense to engines
though. We have four hours yet to climb._"
The altimeter was then registering three thousand feet.
All this while I had listened occasionally for wireless messages,
as the receiver was still in working order. No message came for us,
however, and the only sign of life was when, at 7:40, I heard somebody
calling "B. M. K." Even that small sign of contact with life below
cheered me mightily.
Throughout the journey we had no regular meals, but ate and drank in
snatches, whenever we felt so inclined. It was curious that neither
of us felt hungry at any time during the sixteen hours of the flight,
although now and then I felt the need of something to drink.
The food was packed into a little cupboard behind my head, on the
left-hand side of the fuselage. I reached for it at about 7:30, and,
deciding that Alcock must need nourishment, I passed him two sandwiches
and some chocolate, and uncorked the thermos flask. He made use of only
one hand for eating and drinking, keeping the other on the control
lever.
We happened upon a large gap in the upper layer of clouds at 8:30.
Through it the sun shone pleasantly, projecting the shadow of the
Vickers-Vimy on to the lower layer, over which it darted and
twisted, contracting or expanding according to the distortions on the
cloud-surface.
I was able to maintain observation on the sun for some ten minutes. The
calculations thus obtained showed that if we were still on the right
course the machine must be farther east than was indicated by "dead
reckoning." From this I deduced that the strength of the wind must
have increased rather than fallen off, as had been prophesied in the
report of the meteorological expert at St. John's. This supposition
was borne out by the buffetings which, from time to time, swayed the
Vickers-Vimy. Up till then our average speed had been one hundred and
forty-three knots.
I got my observations of the sun while kneeling on the seat and looking
between the port wings. I made use of the spirit level, as the horizon
was invisible and the sextant could therefore not be used.
Later, I caught sight of the sea for a few brief moments, and at 9:15 I
wrote the following note to Alcock: "_Through a rather bad patch I have
just made our ground speed 140 knots, and from the sun's altitude we
must be much further east and south than I calculated._"
I continued to keep a log of our movements and observations, and
at 9:20 P. M. made the following entry: "_Height 4,000 feet. Dense
clouds below and above. Got one sun observation, which shows that
dead reckoning is badly out. Shall wait for stars and climb. At 8:31
position about 49 deg. 31 minutes north, 38 deg. 35 minutes west._"
The clouds above remained constant, at a height of about five thousand
feet. I was eager to pass through them before the stars appeared; and
at nine-thirty, when the light was fading, I scribbled the inquiry:
"_Can you get above these clouds at, say, 60°? We must get stars as
soon as poss._"
Alcock nodded, and proceeded to climb as steeply as he dared. Twilight
was now setting in, gradually but noticeably. Between the layers of
cloud the daylight, although never very good, had until then been
strong enough to let me read the instruments and chart. At ten o'clock
this was impossible without artificial light.
For my chart I now used an electric lamp. I switched on a tiny bulb
which was placed so as to make the face of the compass clear in the
dark, all the other fixed instruments being luminous in themselves.
For my intermittent inspection of the engines I had to flash the
electric torch over either side of the cockpit.
The clouds, both above and below, grew denser and darker. One could
see them only as indefinite masses of nebulousness, and it became more
and more difficult to judge how near to or how far from them we were.
An entry in my log, made at 10:20, says, "_No observations, and dead
reckoning apparently out. Could not get above clouds for sunset. Will
wait check by stars._"
An hour later we had climbed to five thousand two hundred feet. But
still we found clouds above us; and we continued to rise, so as to be
above them in time for some early observations on the stars.
It was now quite dark; and as we droned our isolated way eastward
and upward, nothing could be seen outside the cockpit, except the
inner struts, the engines, the red-glowing vapor ejected through the
exhaust pipes, and portions of the wings, which glistened in the dim
moonglimmer.
I waited impatiently for the first sight of the moon, the Pole Star,
and other night-time friends of every navigator.
[Footnote 1: Position.]