THE PASSING OF A BRAVE AVIATOR 317
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Harry George Hawker, A.F.C. _Frontispiece_
_Facing page_
Mrs. George Hawker, Harry’s Mother.—Harry as a Cadet at the age
of 12.—Mr. George Hawker, Harry’s Father 30
The Sopwith Tabloid, the Prototype of the Fighting Scouts, designed
by Harry, in its modified form for Looping-the-Loop, after his
return from Australia 56
The Sopwith Dolphin, put through its Initial Tests by Harry.—The
Sopwith Camel, a world-famous Fighting Biplane. Hundreds of
Machines of this type were tested by Harry during the War 94
The Sopwith Rolls-Royce-engined Biplane, “Atlantic,” in which Harry
and Grieve attempted the Atlantic Crossing. The top of the Fuselage
was made in the form of an Inverted Boat, which they detached in
Mid-Atlantic. The Undercarriage was dropped soon after the Start,
in order to reduce Air Resistance 108
Testing the Lifeboat. On the back of the original Photograph
Harry wrote: “Note the broken ice between the boat and
shore.”—This picture shows some of the difficulties in getting
the Aeroplane to the Starting-Ground in Newfoundland. The
Driver apparently took things lying down 122
The Detachable Boat carried on the Atlantic Flight.—The Sopwith
Trans-Atlantic Biplane in the Hangar near St. John’s,
Newfoundland 142
The Derelict Aeroplane, in which Harry and Grieve had attempted
the Crossing, was recovered from the Atlantic by the U.S.
Steamer _Lake Charlotteville_.—Harry at the Wheel of the Racing
A.C., the Body of which was designed by him and proved a
remarkable advance in efficiency 156
Our House at Hook, soon after News of Harry’s Rescue from the
Atlantic.—Home Again! Harry and Grieve at Grantham
Station, after the Atlantic Flight. Mr. Sopwith is standing in the
doorway 174
The Scene outside King’s Cross Station, London, when Harry
returned from the Atlantic. The Australian Soldiers decided
that Harry must have something more triumphant than a Civic
Reception 198
Harry and Grieve leaving Buckingham Palace after having been
decorated by the King. Although a Civilian, Harry received the
first Air Force Cross—a Service Decoration 244
A Souvenir of the first Transatlantic Air Mail 264
Trans-Atlantic Aviators’ Reunion Dinner. The late Sir John Alcock is
on the extreme left; Mr. F. P. Raynham on the right (nearest the
camera); Sir Arthur Whitten Brown in uniform (opposite the camera);
and on his left Lieut.-Comdr. K. Mackenzie-Grieve, A.F.C.—Harry is
third from the left of the picture 282
Harry on Board a Yacht during one of the Periods which he devoted
to Motor-Boat Racing.—Pamela sets the Pace on the Lawn at
Hook 300
The 12-cylinder Racing Sunbeam after Harry’s Smash at Brooklands,
when several yards of corrugated iron fencing were torn
down.—Mr. T. O. M. Sopwith, C.B.E., and Harry, with the
Hawker Two-Stroke Motor-Cycle—a Post-War Enterprise of
the Hawker Engineering Company 312
Floral Tributes being taken to Harry’s Grave, at Hook, Surrey, on
the 225 h.p. Sunbeam, by my Brother, Captain L. Peaty 318
CHAPTER I
EARLY STRUGGLES
Harry’s Parents—His Sisters and Brothers—Schooldays—Four
Schools in Six Years—The Attraction of a Cadet Corps—Motor Work
at Twelve Years of Age—The Expert of Fifteen—Managing a Fleet of
Cars—First Desire to Fly—The Kindness of Mr. and Mrs. McPhee—Harry
Meets Busteed—And Comes to England with Him—Kauper—Seeing
London—Quest for Employment—A Job at Sevenpence per Hour—Another at
Ninepence-Halfpenny—Thoughts of Returning to Australia—Forty Pounds
in the Bank—Kauper Strikes Oil—And Helps Harry—Sigrist—How Harry
was Happy on Two Pounds per Week—His First Flight—Reminiscences of
Brooklands Days.
CHAPTER I
There was born at Harcourt, in Victoria, Australia, on January 10th,
1862, one George Hawker, whose father was a Cornishman. Grown to
manhood, this George Hawker followed the blacksmith’s calling,
and on May 24th, 1883, he married Mary Ann Gilliard Anderson, a
spinster, of Scottish stock, who was born on October 9th, 1859, at
Stawell, also in Victoria. There were four children of the marriage:
Maude (the eldest), Herbert, Harry, and Ruby (the youngest). The elder
boy, Herbert, born in 1885, was unlike his brother in many respects.
For instance, as a child he was very delicate, a circumstance which
hampered him in his studies. Nevertheless, he was very fond of school,
and he invariably worked well and progressed in spite of his ailments.
He excelled in music. Although he had only recently married, Herbert
Hawker joined the Australian Forces at the outset of the Great War,
and he suffered great privation and illness at Gallipoli. He was later
badly gassed on the Western Front, and his life was despaired of in
consequence. Having partially recovered, he returned to Australia,
bearing the honorary rank of captain. He has two children, a girl and a
boy.
Maude and Ruby Hawker are both married, the elder having two boys, Alan
(“Bobbie”), born in 1910, and Howard (“Bill”), born in 1912. Both boys
display the aptitude for engineering which undoubtedly runs in the
family, the elder having driven and attended to his father’s car at the
age of nine years.
Harry Hawker, or—to give the subject of my biography his full
names—Harry George Hawker, was born on January 22nd, 1889, at the
little village of South Brighton (now known as Moorabbin) in Victoria,
where his father had a small blacksmith’s and wheelwright’s
shop which brought in enough to keep the family in comfort. George
Hawker has at least two claims to fame, which, arranged chronologically
in order of occurrence, are, first, that he was the father of a great
aviator, and, secondly, that he himself was a fine shot, for in 1897 he
came to England with the Bisley Rifle Team and won the Queen’s
Prize.
At the age of six, Harry was sent to the school of Mr. W. J. Blackwell,
B.A., at Moorabbin. He took no interest whatever in his studies, either
then or ever during his school career. For this inadvertence he was
sorry in later years. He was almost continually running away from
school and always in trouble. In the space of little over six years he
went to four different schools. After leaving Mr. Blackwell, Harry was
sent to a school at East Malvern, presided over by Mr. M. T. Lewis.
He was not long there, for in 1896 he was attending a school at St.
Kilda, whither his parents had moved. Harry was even more unsettled
at St. Kilda, for, without as much as telling anyone at home, he left
his school and presented himself at another school, at Prahran, where
they had a cadet corps which attracted him. He became a cadet, but,
still restless and unmanageable, he ran away from school for good at
the age of twelve and started work with a motor firm, Messrs. Hall and
Warden, for five shillings per week. When fifteen years of age he had
an extraordinary knowledge of motors for such a youngster, and he was
considered one of the best car drivers in Victoria at that time. As a
child, Harry’s sole ambition was to become an engineer, and while
at school he designed and built engines in his spare time.
After leaving Hall and Warden’s, he joined the Tarrant Motor Company,
with which firm he made considerable headway and soon became one of
their leading motor experts, and that notwithstanding his extreme
youth, which he always tried to hide by adding a year or two to his
age. However, that restlessness, which was probably only due to his
having reached the limit of progress in his present job, again claimed
him, and, tempted by the offer of a workshop of his own, he took up
the work of looking after a fleet of private cars belonging to a Mr.
de Little, for which he received a salary of £200 per annum. About
this time, too, Harry’s father was running a small steam plant which
enabled Harry to test several of his ideas. It was while Harry was with
Mr. de Little that his old ambition to follow an engineering career
resolved itself into a desire to fly. It may have been the fact that
very little was then known of aeronautical science, particularly in
Australia, or perhaps Harry was attracted by the most intricate branch
of engineering—but whatever the origin of the idea, Harry had made a
firm resolution, and he looked around for his opportunity to carry it
out; but for several months the prospects were not bright.
While Harry was working for Mr. de Little he lived at a small country
hotel at Caramut, kept by Mr. and Mrs. McPhee, of whom he could never
speak too highly. They were extraordinarily good to Harry, and when he
left Australia they insisted on insuring his life; and they continued
to pay the yearly premiums until he died. After Harry’s death, one
of the most human letters I received came from Mrs. McPhee, with the
insurance policy enclosed. The amount was very small, but the wealth of
good nature which prompted such a disinterested tribute to his lovable
personality was worth untold gold.
When he had been with Mr. de Little for nearly three years, Harry, then
about twenty years old, met by accident one Busteed, who, inspired
by the sight of a Wright and a Blériot, was leaving for England in a
week. Having saved about £100 during his period of service with Mr. de
Little, Harry decided to go with him, with the idea that in England his
ambition to learn to fly would easily be realised. Accordingly, within
a week he had thrown up everything, and with no misgivings was crossing
the world in search of the knowledge of flying for which he had yearned
so long. He was, as always, full of confidence in himself. From the
time he started work at five shillings per week he never looked back.
He gave no thought to the possibility of his not making good in
England. He left Australia for England to learn to fly, and either did
not or would not recognise that in the Old Country he would be likely
to meet with keen competition in his quest.
There is no doubt that the trouble he experienced in getting any sort
of work, even apart from that on which his heart was set, was a great
blow to his confidence, for after nearly a year in very poor jobs in
large workshops, where there seemed to be little or no scope for his
ability, he contemplated returning home and taking up his old work.
This was the only occasion, in a life full of ups and downs, when he
seriously thought of throwing up the sponge and yielding to the line
of least resistance. In all other adverse circumstances he revealed a
spirit of indomitable courage and endurance. There is no measuring a
man’s actual worth, but had Fate not kept Harry here we should have
been several iotas deficient in our air supremacy in those dark days
which followed on so soon, when iotas were of incalculable worth.
Harry and Busteed first arrived in London in May, 1911, with Harrison
and Kauper, two other friends who had also travelled from Australia.
All four were destined for aeronautical careers, Harry and Kauper, with
nothing definite in view, left the others and looked for “diggings.”
Although they had very little money, they decided to have a holiday and
enjoy the sights of London before seeking employment. After a couple
of weeks or so, Harry started to look around for a firm who wanted to
teach someone to fly. This preliminary search was unsuccessful, so
Harry, full of life and confidence, thought he would obtain work in an
engineering shop and bide his time in finding the work he most wanted.
Funds were getting low, and the quest for any sort of job was rendered
very difficult by the fact that most of the people whom he approached
would not consider employing him because he had no references in this
country, a circumstance which Harry was at a loss to understand. In
Melbourne there was not a firm but would have taken him, but in England
his own word for his ability was not enough.
Eventually he offered to work for a week for nothing, as a test of
his ability, but this was of no avail. The outlook became very black.
With Kauper, he moved to cheaper lodgings, where he was barely able to
afford the necessities of life. They knew no one in the country except
their two fellow-travellers, but Harry was too proud to let them know
his plight, and would starve first. He continued to write cheerful
letters home, telling of prospects, but never a word as to the actual
state of his affairs. He would not have his parents think he needed
financial help from them.
On July 29th, 1911, after two bad months, fortune changed a little for
the better, as he managed to get work with the Commer Company at a
remuneration of 7d. per hour. He continued, of course, to hunt for the
opportunity which would bring him nearer to the realisation of his hope
of flying, and so, when offered a remuneration of 9½d. per hour by
the Mercèdes Company he had no scruples about leaving the other firm
at the end of January, 1912. He was with the Mercèdes Company for less
than two months, as on March 18th he accepted a better post with the
Austro-Daimler Company. In the meantime, although he had approached
very little, if any, nearer his goal, he had gained invaluable
experience. Furthermore, whenever possible, he had saved his money, and
any that he spent on recreation paid for weekly visits to Brooklands to
watch the flying there.
He was thankful that he had been economical and saved £40, enough to
take him back to Australia, when, after nearly a year, he despaired of
ever realising his ambition to fly. Then it was that Kauper, who had
been experiencing bad times as regards work, saw that Sopwith’s
were advertising for a mechanic, and, being out of employment,
immediately applied for the job, with success. It was arranged that if
the work turned out to be what they wanted, Kauper was to let Harry
know. Having regard to what he had suffered, Harry would not now give
up his job with the Austro-Daimler firm unless for something equally
secure and permanent, and he would wisely have refused even a flying
opportunity that did not fulfil such conditions. He did not want to run
any unnecessary risk of being without work again.
Within a week of Kauper taking up his new work Harry received a
wire from his friend, telling him to come down at once and that the
prospects were good. Without a second’s delay, Harry packed up
and left London for Brooklands, but little dreaming that he was on the
point of realising his wildest hopes. Meanwhile, Kauper had discovered
the work to be exactly what Harry was seeking. The Fates were kind, and
a few days after Kauper had joined the Sopwith Company a lot of extra
work turned up, necessitating the employment of still another mechanic.
Kauper approached Mr. F. Sigrist, the works manager, by whom he was
engaged, and told him he knew of “an Australian, a good mechanic,
very keen to fly and ready for any sort of job with an aeroplane
firm.” Sigrist told him he could arrange an interview, and so it
was that, in reply to the wire mentioned above, Harry, complete with
bag and tool-kit, presented himself ready to start work at once on June
29th, 1912.
It did not take Sigrist long to find out that in Harry he had a good
man. He was very hard-working and exceptionally quick and accurate, and
he could tackle any mechanical construction work. That Harry shone as a
mechanic was Sigrist’s opinion. His whole heart was in his work.
He worked fifteen hours a day on seven days a week, with £2 at the end
of it. For the first time in England he was happy, notwithstanding hard
work and little pay. His old confidence returned, and he no longer
thought of getting home. The £40 he had saved he offered to Sigrist to
be allowed to use a machine. Sigrist told Mr. Sopwith his star mechanic
wanted to fly, and so Harry’s hopes materialised and he received
his preliminary lessons.
[Illustration:
MRS. GEORGE HAWKER—HARRY’S MOTHER.
HARRY AS A CADET AT THE AGE OF 12.
MR. GEORGE HAWKER—HARRY’S FATHER.
[_Facing p. 30._
]
At this time Sopwith was conducting a flying-school and had several
pupils, between whom there was great competition for getting the use
of the school machine. After Harry had done a little taxi-ing on the
aerodrome he seemed never to be able to get hold of the machine. But at
last it was arranged that he could have a fly at 7 o’clock one morning.
In those days a flight of such a nature by a pupil would last for from
three to ten minutes. Not so in Harry’s case, for Sigrist appeared on
the scene at 8 o’clock, to find Harry still in the air after almost an
hour! His progress under Mr. Sopwith and Mr. Hedley was exceedingly
rapid, and he was acting in the capacity of an instructor before he had
passed the tests for the Royal Aero Club Aviators’ Certificate. Among
his pupils were Major H. M. Trenchard and Captain J. M. Salmond, both
now officers of high distinction in the Royal Air Force.
Harry’s hopes and prospects were now as bright as they could possibly
be. As soon as he had taken his “ticket” (i.e., R.Ae.C. Aviator’s
Certificate), he was placed in charge of the hangars at Brooklands,
where his real career began. Some of the gay times they had in those
early flying days are worthy of record.
The firm, which later developed into the Sopwith Aviation Company,
employing about 3,000 men, but consisted then of Mr. Sopwith, Mr.
Sigrist, and about a dozen men, launched out with the purchase of a
“racing” car when they had made a few pounds. This was an old Panhard
of 16 h.p., fitted with a Victoria body and always accompanied by
sundry disturbing noises. This genuine piece of antique was later
fitted with a two-seater body, not to satisfy the wishes of its many
drivers for a sporting effect, but because it provided at the back an
enclosed space for carrying various impedimenta. On Saturdays and other
festive nights it was customary for this useful part of the body to be
discarded, and the turn-out would proceed, covered with mechanics, mud,
and a very little glory, to the Kingston “Empire.”
This weekly trip from Weybridge to Kingston was never accomplished
without incident in the form of some hitch or adventure. For instance,
the tail-light, which no one had time or energy to adjust during
the week, was wont to fail, and the policeman’s whistle was not
infrequently heard. Whistle! “What’s that, Fred?” Harry would say to
Sigrist. “Tail-light out, or did we run over that old girl?” “No, it’s
only the light.” And so they proceeded, leaving the back to take care
of itself. The eight or nine mechanics, carried on these journeys, were
generally needed. Tyres were always going off; lamps always going out;
and various bits and pieces of the car going astray on the road. All
had, therefore, to work their passage.
Harry never tired of telling of the fun of those days, and although he
was the keenest of workers, he was always ready for some fun, not a
little being provided by the antics of a pet bear kept in the sheds at
Brooklands and brought from America by Sopwith.
Harry’s delight in playing tricks never left him. Only a short
while before he died we were spending a week-end with my parents.
After we had all retired for the night I overheard a council of war
between my brother and Harry. They crept stealthily downstairs. When,
after about an hour, Harry arrived upstairs, I could extract no lucid
explanation of what he had been doing. However, the next morning
the sight of a white door in the dark dining-room when we sat down
to breakfast explained his activities of the previous night. He had
changed the white door of the drawing-room for the dark one of the
dining-room. The cook gave my mother notice to leave immediately after
breakfast, as she was not used to “being made a fool of.” There was
only one person who saw her being made a fool of, but that person’s
tale of cook’s exit through a door she knew so well which had suddenly
gone “all gleaming white” was so funny that I am sure her manner of
accepting the joke was better appreciated by the perpetrators than by
the fools for whom it was intended.
CHAPTER II
THE BRITISH DURATION RECORD
Harry’s Aversion to Publicity—Circumstances of His
First Brooklands Associations—The Sopwith-Burgess-Wright
Biplane—Harry’s Effort in a Quick-starting Competition—Beating
His Employer—Early Attempts for Michelin Laurels—A Real
Success—Tuning-up for the Duration Record—Raynham Makes a
Race—And Secures an Advantage—Raynham Lands after 7 hours 31½
minutes—And Holds the Record for an Hour or Two—Opportunity
Knocks at Harry’s Door—And is Well Received—Harry Lands
after 8 hours 23 minutes—To Him the Spoils—His Own Account of the
Experience—A Reminiscence of Cody—The Significance of Harry’s
Achievement—Other Flights at Brooklands—The Growth of a Pioneer
Firm.
CHAPTER II
During the latter half of 1912, with the buoyancy of the enthusiast
and no idea of the meteoric way in which his latent abilities would be
developed, Harry embarked on the flying career on which his heart was
set, at a time when the spirit of quantity production had not descended
to meet the necessities of war and the aeronautical fraternity was
happy in its smallness.
Even when he had carried out not a few, but many, flights of a nature
unprecedented for a beginner, Harry was known only to a very few
near associates; and he eschewed publicity not only before, but also
after, he was drawn automatically and unavoidably within its fold.
Fortunately, Harry had no cause to sever a well-made alliance with
Mr. Sopwith, who was quick in recognising the genius of his protégé,
as a pilot then, and as an engineer later. Had circumstances been
less promising, and if Harry had elected to seek work as a pilot
elsewhere, the scanty knowledge of his early experiences that had been
disseminated would have stood him in little stead, for in 1912 the
experiences of most pilots were generally reported in considerable
detail; and here would have been a man with a brilliant record who
had deliberately contrived to have as few papers as possible to show
for it. A few genuine Press reports are surely of some value to a
youngster who, looking for employment, has to make an impression, and
particularly if he is not a great talker. But one cannot blame Harry
for this seeming inadvertence, for he never required such testimonials.
Harry first arrived at Brooklands at a time when things were literally
moving rather slowly and the hub of British enterprise in aviation
was showing a pronounced tendency to deviate to Hendon, whither
many of the bright spirits that were formerly the life of Brooklands
had already departed. Mr. T. O. M. Sopwith (now C.B.E.), who gave
Harry his start in aviation, had recently returned from a successful
American tour, during which he had participated in several motor-boat
races and incidentally had commissioned the well-known American
boat-builder, Burgess, to construct, under licence from the Wright
Brothers, an aeroplane, known as a Burgess-Wright biplane then, and as
a Sopwith-Wright after reconstruction by its owner in England.
As it was on this machine Harry made his reputation as a pilot of the
first rank, a few references to its design and construction are not
out of place. The original machine built by Burgess to Sopwith’s
instructions, contrary to the customary Wright practice, was fitted
with controls of the Farman type and a Gnome rotary engine. Having
brought the machine to England, Sopwith replaced the Gnome engine by
a British-built A.B.C. of 40 h.p., and proceeded to manufacture in
his sheds at Brooklands duplicates of all the component parts of the
aeroplane. Thus the machine, when ultimately reconstructed, became
all-British in conformity with the requirements of the competition for
the British Empire Michelin Cup No. 1. The machine had twin propellers,
driven through the medium of chains connected with the single engine,
and on the right-hand side of the latter was arranged the pilot’s
seat. The machine was therefore of a distinctly novel type, at any rate
so far as concerned this country, where few Wright machines had been
seen. One innovation added to the design by Mr. Sopwith (to protect the
pilot from the wind) was a nacelle, resembling in appearance a side-car
body, and it is probable that without this feature Harry would not
have been able to put up as many long flights as he did. Passengers in
this machine enjoyed a particularly novel sensation in sitting beside
the engine instead of in front of or behind it, and in landing they
received the impression that the chassis had collapsed, so low was the
build of the machine as compared with other contemporaneous types.
Four days after he had his first lesson in the art of flying, Harry
flew alone in the Sopwith-Farman machine. His remarkable genius was
thus revealed at the very beginning of his career in aviation; and by
Sopwith, his tutor, he was afforded full scope for the development of
his abilities. Within a month he qualified for his R.Ae.C. Aviator’s
Certificate, the number of which was 297; and so rapid was his progress
that when he successfully essayed his flight for the British duration
record he had only put up a total flying time of about twenty hours.
After obtaining his certificate, Harry lost no time in pursuing the
purely sporting side of flying, and on Saturday, October 5th, 1912,
he participated in a Quick-Starting Competition, at Brooklands, on
the Sopwith-Farman biplane. There were eight other competitors. Harry
tied for second place with the late Harold Barnwell, who was piloting
a Vickers-Farman biplane, their times being 6 seconds. An interesting
circumstance of this contest was that on running off—or, rather, flying
off—the dead heat, Harry and Barnwell both completed the evolution in
faster time than E. C. Pashley, the accredited winner of the race,
whose time was 5⅖th seconds. Harry’s time for this second performance
was 5 seconds and Barnwell’s 4⅘th seconds. Sopwith, who competed on two
machines, a Sopwith-Farman and a Sopwith-Tractor, for which his times
were 7 seconds and 7⅖th seconds respectively, had the doubtful pleasure
of being beaten by his pupil.
Harry essayed his first flight on the Burgess-Wright, on which he was
subsequently to achieve the British Duration Record, on October 15th,
1912. Being already accustomed to the Farman type controls, he found no
difficulty in handling the machine, and after completing a few circuits
and practising landings he felt thoroughly at home on it. The following
morning at 6.51 a.m. he set out on a test of 3 hours 31 minutes in
competition for the British Empire Michelin Cup No. 1 and the £500
prize. The Cup had previously been won by Moore-Brabazon in 1909 and
twice by Cody, in 1910 and 1911. In the 1912 competition a continuous
flight of not less than five hours’ duration had to be made,
the award going to the competitor remaining the longest time in the air
in a single flight without touching the ground. Although unsuccessful
as a qualifying flight in the competition, Harry’s first attempt,
lasting as it did for three-and-a-half hours, on a machine of a novel
type which he had flown only for the first time on the previous day,
was a most creditable achievement, especially, too, for a pilot who had
won his brevet only a month previously. Such a flight, in such a remote
period in the annals of aviation as 1912, would have been considered
no mean performance for the most experienced of pilots. The flight,
which was carried out at Brooklands at an average height of 500 feet,
was terminated owing to the fracture of a valve-spring. Harry made two
other unsuccessful attempts to win the Cup, the first lasting 2 hours
43 minutes, and terminating abruptly owing to a sudden gale, and the
second of 3 hours 28 minutes, ending owing to rain.
As the Michelin Competition definitely closed on October 31st, there
was no time to lose, and on Thursday, the 24th, Harry put up a flight
of 8 hours 23 minutes, which proved to be the British Duration Record
held by him for several years. On the same day a flight of 7½ hours
was made by his friend Raynham, who held the British Duration Record
for a brief spell of 1 hour 35 minutes, having started and finished
before Harry. Lord Charles Beresford was among those who witnessed
these record flights. I cannot do better than reproduce the following
account communicated to the _Aero_ by its special correspondent in
November, 1913.
“We were astir early in the Sopwith camp on Thursday, October
24th. Not that this was the first early-morning attempt on the
Michelin prize. The same thing had been going on for a week past, and
no fewer than three times in this week had the new Sopwith twin-screw
A.B.C.-engined biplane sallied forth. Hawker, the pilot, had been
chosen to fly the Sopwith ‘bus,’ and his determination,
skill, and enthusiasm through this and the previous attempts justified
the faith put in him for such a task. Hawker is a young Australian,
and, like his fellow countrymen Busteed, Pickles, and Harrison, he
shows very great promise as a flier. Joining the Sopwith school as a
mechanic, he was allowed to learn on the orthodox school type Farman,
and he early displayed his aptitude for this work by going up to 1,000
feet and remaining there for fifty minutes on the fourth day of his
training.
“Of his three previous attempts on the Michelin Duration
Competition little need be said; the first one was terminated after 3
hours 31 minutes by a valve-spring breaking. On the second attempt the
wind, after 2 hours 43 minutes proved too much for further flight, and
the third attempt ended after 3 hours 28 minutes in a rainstorm, which
soaked the magneto through, and temporarily ended its career.
“With serious designs on ‘durating,’ the Sopwith
camp was awake and bustling, and excitement ran high when it was seen
that Raynham was to make a simultaneous attempt on the military Avro
biplane (enclosed body type), fitted with a 60 h.p. Green engine.
Hawker got away just before 7 a.m., but was brought down again after
a flight lasting no more than twenty minutes by the magneto cutting
out occasionally. Apparently it had not recovered from the effects of
its previous soaking. This contingency had been anticipated, however,
and a brand-new British-made Bosch had been ordered previously,
which, however, had only arrived late the night before. The old
‘mag.’ was hurriedly removed and the new one fitted, but
even minor details of this kind take time, and in this case the time
was all too precious. In timing the magneto it was found to run the
wrong way round, and it had to be dismantled and a new commutator
fitted.
“Meanwhile Raynham got away on the Avro at 7.40, which meant
eventually a start of 1h. 35m. He seemed to have a little trouble in
carrying his load, as he had to make three attempts to get off, and
he was flying very _cabré_ through the earlier part of his flight.
The Green engine, however, sounded serious, solemn, and steady, and
seemed to inspire confidence. Hawker made a start at 9.15 without even
testing or trying the magneto in any way.
“Then commenced a magnificent and exciting contest which lasted
till well after dark.
“The A.B.C. spluttered a little at first for want of a
warming-up, but by the time it had done one circuit of Brooklands
its revolutions were up to 2,000 per minute, and Hawker was able to
throttle down slightly. There was a tense feeling all round, and an
ache in the heart of the Sopwith crew that the magneto had not been
properly fitted during the previous night. Hawker’s handicap
was realised more and more when it was found that if Raynham remained
aloft until within 1 hour and 35 minutes of the limiting hours of the
competition (which were from sunrise till one hour after sunset),
Hawker could not possibly win.
“There was a stream of people to and from the anemometer
throughout the day, which instrument happily showed the atmospheric
conditions to be little short of ideal. The speed of the wind during
the day did not vary more than five to eight miles per hour.
“Raynham, with his wide experience, took the greatest possible
advantage of this, and made a really splendid flight, with the Green
throttled down to the very slowest revolutions that the machine would
fly with, and with the tail dropping in what appeared to be a fearful
position to the onlookers. Hawker, with tail well up (and his machine
lifts the loads remarkably easily), was flying steadily round at a
height of about 400 feet, the A.B.C. emitting a steady hum. Raynham,
on the other hand, was flying very low, and on some occasions was
only about 30 feet high. By about eleven o’clock he evidently
had become extremely bored with pottering round and round, because he
commenced a series of antics round the sheds, and at one time about
half-way round a turn he suddenly doubled back on his own track, and
did a turn or two round the wrong way, all the time, however, with
his engine ticking round at something like 950 revolutions per minute
only, the appearance of the machine being terrifying to behold to
those who dread sideslips.
“Hawker all this time was steadily plodding away, making
the safest flight possible, and the very machine had a look of
determination about it. The two slow-speed propellers turned solemnly
round, and the engine explosions were lost in a continual buzz through
the high engine speed. That he was out to win if possible was obvious
from every movement. Raynham’s champions grew a little nervous
over the flippancy of their pilot, and a shutter of one of the sheds
was quickly requisitioned, on which were painted the words in large
letters: ‘Fly higher.’ It had not much effect, however,
although it served apparently to sober him a little.
“Towards one o’clock impatient questions as to how much
oil and petrol they were carrying began to circulate amongst the
onlookers, and it appeared that Raynham’s oil supply was likely
to run out before anything else. On more than one occasion the Green
suddenly slowed down in revolutions, only to pick up again just as
quickly. Someone pointed out later on that the short pipes coupled to
the exhaust ports in the cylinders of the Green no longer emitted the
puffs of smoke that had been prominent in the earlier stages of the
flight, and misgivings as to the oil supply began to travel abroad.
“Excitement reached fever-heat between two and three
o’clock, the strain of watching the two machines circle round
hour after hour becoming intense. It was not even like a motor race,
where one can see fairly early in the run who is likely to be the
winner. In this conflict, speed did not even count, and the contest
might terminate any second by either running out of fuel or by an
engine stoppage. Little work was done in the sheds, and every few
minutes mechanics would appear at the various doors to find and call
out to their mates that both machines were still up.
“‘Raynham’s down!’ The cry spread across the
ground at about 3.10 p.m., and a frantic rush was made to the front of
the sheds, and sure enough he was just on the point of touching. He
terminated his flight at 3.11½ p.m. exactly, having been in the air
7 hours 31½ minutes—truly a splendid performance. We all rushed
across the ground, and Fred May, of the Green Engine Co., jumped
into his car and came tearing up to the spot. Raynham climbed out,
looking somewhat tired, but apparently none the worse for the 7½
hours’ toil. He said that the oil had run out, and though
he had held on as long as he could, the engine had been dropping in
revolutions for the last half-hour, and he did not want to risk it
seizing up altogether.
“Up to the very minute of Raynham’s landing it is doubtful
if a single person on Brooklands would have given a shilling for
Hawker’s chance of putting up better time than Raynham with the
latter’s hour and a half start; but things now changed, and as
all eyes were turned upwards and ears listening to catch the rhythmic
beating of the engine, the question went round: ‘Will he keep
up for another two hours?’ The engine sounded happy enough, and
if nothing happened there was no reason why he should not, as he had
a big load of fuel. The excitement now began steadily to rise as the
minutes were ticked off, and to the Sopwith enthusiasts every minute
seemed an age. They all went back to find something to do that would
pass the time more quickly, but had to come out again with dread in
their hearts that they might find Hawker ‘taxi-ing’ along
the ground.
“Gradually the time went along, and Hawker was still steadily
travelling at his 400 feet altitude. Then Sopwith appeared on the
scene at about four o’clock, and brought out his 70 h.p. Gnome
Tractor biplane with the intention of cheering Hawker up a little.
Taking Charteris as a passenger, he did one or two circuits, climbing
up to Hawker’s level, then very skilfully cut across a sharp
turn and came alongside. Hawker, in fear of not lasting out the time,
had throttled down to the smallest amount he could fly with so as to
economise petrol and oil; his machine was therefore very slow, and
Sopwith had to switch off and dive a little so as not to pass him.
The two on the Tractor waved frantically, and shouted encouragements,
which, of course, Hawker could not hear at all, but which he
undoubtedly understood. Down planed the Tractor again, leaving Hawker
with just another half-hour to go through to equal Raynham’s
time (which, by the way, was for 1 hour 35 minutes the British
Duration Record).
“The next half hour was the worst period experienced by a great
number of the Brooklands clan, and it is doubtful if any other event
ever held on the ground has caused so much interest. Tea was forgotten
altogether, and exact minutes and seconds were in the greatest demand,
everybody walking about watch in hand. After ten more minutes had
passed it was observed that Hawker had throttled really to the very
limit so as not to run the slightest risk of running short of petrol.
The machine was flying at a terrible angle, with the tail pointing
strongly earthwards, and the spectators began to feel nervous. Another
shutter was acquired, on which was whitewashed: ‘Keep your tail
up,’ and this was displayed for the pilot, who, however, took
but little notice of it.
“Gradually the minutes passed, and a little crowd gathered
round the timekeeper, who slowly (horribly slowly to some) counted
9 minutes, 8 minutes, and so on. ‘One more circuit will do
it!’ someone cried, and it did, and as the last seconds passed
away, never to be recalled, a huge sigh escaped from the lips of
everybody. To some it was a sigh of relief, to others perhaps not,
but now the crisis was over everybody was sporting enough to express
admiration for a very plucky flight.
“Hawker had evidently had his eye glued to the clock which he
carried on board, for now his tail was up high again, the machine sped
away full of life, and the time also slipped by much faster now that
the face of the watch was not being scrutinised so carefully. Another
half hour passed and darkness began to close in. It had been arranged
that a huge petrol fire should be lit when it was time for Hawker to
come down, an hour after sunset being 5.48 p.m. It was, however, quite
dark at 5.20, and a difficult problem arose in the minds of those on
the ground. It was naturally wished to make the flight as long as
possible, and therefore to light the bonfire then would have been
to bring him down unnecessarily early; on the other hand, complete
darkness might quite possibly cause him to lose himself. A better
arrangement would have been to light one fire half an hour before the
specified finish, another one a quarter of an hour later, and a third
when the time was up, leaving the whole three for him to land by.
“Any misgivings that may have remained in the minds of a few
regarding the condition of the engine were quickly put at rest by
Hawker at about 5.30 opening the throttle wide and shooting up to
between 1,200 and 1,500 feet in so short a space of time as would have
made some of our military competitors envious. It was evident he did
this to run no risk of petrol running out when he was over the sewage
farm or behind the sheds at a low altitude. It was now quite dark,
and wanted but ten minutes to the time limit. At this stage one was
impressed by the appearance of the long flame from the exhaust. The
exhaust pipes were apparently quite red hot the whole time.
“Suddenly Hawker was seen to be intent on making a landing
without further delay, and he came down in a perfectly straight line
from the far end of the ground with the engine about half throttled.
He made a very shallow angle of descent, apparently with the intention
of striking as gradually as possible, as the earth could not be
seen at all. Those in charge of the bonfires instantly realised the
situation, and applied matches to the petrol, which flared up in the
nick of time. Hawker straightened up, closed the throttle, and made a
perfect landing seven minutes before the time limit.
“There was a rush for the spot where the machine was, and the
next five minutes were occupied in cheering, congratulating, shaking
hands and patting backs. Hawker climbed out of his seat, having been
exactly 8 hours 23 minutes in the air, but he looked easily capable of
undergoing the same trial again.
“Relating his experience, Hawker said: ‘When I got
away first at about 9.15 I thought the new magneto had been timed
incorrectly, because the engine was only turning at 1,600, and would
hardly carry the load; before I had done a circuit, however, I
discovered it was only a case of getting the engine warm, this taking
a particularly long time, because we had fitted two radiators where
there only used to be one, even in the summer, and I was carrying
nearly six gallons of water all told. This I found afterwards to be
really too much, because towards the end I tried to warm my hand on
the water-pipe which runs from the bottom of the radiators and found
it too cold to touch.
“‘Within five minutes of the start the engine was turning
round at just over 2,000 revolutions per minute, and I realised that
if I wanted to economise I must throttle down a little. This I did,
and ran along steadily at about 1,800 revolutions. I was extremely
worried to think that we had let Raynham get such a lead, but there
was no hope for it, so I settled down to a long, slow job, determined
to stick to it to the end.
“‘I was quite snug and warm inside the little body that
had been provided, and the weather throughout was ideal. The engine
ran splendidly, and I can truthfully say that it never made a single
misfire for the whole period of 8 hours 23 minutes.
“‘I occupied most of my time in keeping one eye on the
clock and one on Raynham, who was flying below me, and on several
occasions he quite appeared to be “taxi-ing” along the
ground. I always noticed that he never came to rest, however, and
concluded that he must be flying low. Once he shot across my path
about some 150 feet under me, giving me quite a start for the second.
On several occasions I lost sight of him for half an hour at a time,
and was sometimes worried by wondering whether I was going to give
him my backwash or whether I was getting into his.
“‘I had a Thermos flask of cocoa on board, some chocolate,
and some sandwiches, all of which I found useful in either passing the
time away or relieving the monotony by giving me something to do. I
did not look at the exact time that I started, but I knew that I had
about an hour and three quarters to do after Raynham had finished.
Everything was plain sailing with regard to the petrol supply and
oil. The petrol was gravity-fed and the oil pressure-fed. I had a
twenty-gallon petrol tank just behind my back, which was coupled
directly to the carburetter, and above that I had a twelve-gallon
tank, both being full. The twelve-gallon tank was connected by a pipe
to the larger tank, and after I had been flying for four hours I
turned on the tap in the twelve-gallon tank and allowed the contents
of this tank to flow down to the larger one. I discovered afterwards
that the pipe from the twelve-gallon to the twenty-gallon tank was not
large enough, because when I came down in the evening I could hear
the petrol still slowly trickling into the large tank. For the oil,
I had a glass gauge in the sump of the motor and a five-gallon tank
also behind my back, I started off with two gallons in the sump, and
occasionally pumped up a little pressure in the oil tank, opening the
tap between the tank and the sump to keep the oil level in the sump
somewhere within sight. As the petrol was used and the weight lessened
I closed the throttle slightly, the engine running equally well at all
speeds.
“‘Later on I saw a shutter being carried out with the
words “Fly higher” painted on it. I could read it quite
distinctly from 400 feet, but as I felt quite comfortable where I was
I did not pay any heed to it. It was not until after I came down that
I discovered that this sign was meant for Raynham. It was a great
relief to me to see Raynham come down, and I knew this time that he
was going to land, because I could see all the people running across
the ground towards him.
“‘From then onwards I kept my eyes glued to the face
of the clock, the last half hour that would make my flight equal
Raynham’s being the most anxious and worrying of the whole day.
Every minute seemed an hour, and as I was afraid that the petrol
in the top tank might not be flowing properly into the main tank,
I closed the throttle for the last twenty minutes down to the very
limit the machine would fly with. I must have been flying then at only
about thirty-five miles per hour. Then I saw the 70 h.p. Gnome Tractor
’bus come out, and watched Mr. Sopwith with interest. I guessed
what he was coming out for, and when I saw him make straight for me,
broadside on, I kept on a perfectly straight course, knowing well that
he would be careful not to hinder me in any way. He came quite close
alongside, and I distinctly heard them both shout (my A.B.C engine had
a silencer fitted), but I could not tell what they said.
“‘Painfully slowly the minutes rolled away, but at last I
realised that I was the holder of the British Duration Record. When I
was quite sure of this I opened up the throttle again, as I had not
much to fear now, but I was still determined to keep up in order to
give anyone else a good run in order to beat it. When it was getting
nearly dark I pulled open the last notch of the throttle and climbed
up to 1,400 feet on the meter, and I did this very rapidly. Darkness
came on, and I could see very little but the red-hot exhaust pipe and
the reflection from the burnt gases. The dim lights of the Blue Bird
served as a little guide to the position of the ground, and when I
felt sure it must be quite 5.50 I decided to come down immediately
and make a guess at where the ground was, as I felt sure they had
forgotten all about the fires, and I did not want to get lost and
smash the machine up. Just as I was landing the fires flared up, and I
came to rest and found everyone as pleased as I was.’”
NOTE. —The foregoing verbatim report of Hawker’s experiences
in making the British Duration Record is reprinted from the _Aero_ of
November, 1912.
In attempting, with characteristic pluck, to beat Harry’s record
on the last day of the competition, Cody unfortunately collided with
a post on landing after a trial flight, and a wing was buckled in
consequence.
The performance whereby Harry not only won the British Empire Michelin
Cup No. 1, but also captured the British Duration Record, brought him
into the front rank of British pilots and marked an important point
in the annals of British aviation. Public attention was attracted to
a type of machine of which little was known in this country, although
it bore the pioneer hall-mark of the Wrights. For the Sopwith Aviation
Company the flight was a great business asset and a sure foundation for
the goodwill of the concern.
Harry took part in an Altitude Competition on Saturday, November
9th, 1912, at Brooklands, in which event Barnwell was the only other
competitor. Unfortunately the race had to be given to Barnwell, as
Harry had omitted to set his barograph at zero before starting, so
that the exact height he reached was not recorded. Nevertheless,
the immediate excitement of the contest did not suffer through this
inadvertence.
A Bomb-dropping and Alighting Competition, in which competitors had to
drop their bombs on or near a given target and land within a minimum
radius of a given mark was held on the Saturday following. The first
and second places went to Merriam and Knight respectively, Sopwith,
Bendall, and Harry being the “also rans.” Sopwith, having
succeeded in making a direct hit with his bomb, misjudged his landing,
a circumstance which disqualified him.
Harry shared in a big success in a Relay or Despatch-carrying Race
on Sunday, November 17th. In this contest the competitors worked in
pairs. One pilot would start off with a despatch, and, after flying
one-and-a-half laps, land and hand the commission over to his partner,
who in turn would fly over the same course, alight, and hand the
despatch to the judge, the winning pair being those who made fastest
time. In the particular contest, which was flown in perfect flying
weather, it was originally intended that each pair should comprise a
biplane and a monoplane, and Hamel flew over from Hendon on a Blériot
for the special purpose of competing, but the scarcity of monoplanes
owing to the War Office ban on machines of that type resulted in only
biplanes taking part. The first prize went to Harry and Spencer, the
latter flying a machine of his own construction. Their total time for
the course was 9½ minutes. Barnwell and Merriam, of the Vickers and
Bristol Schools respectively, on Farman and Bristol machines, took
10 minutes 10 seconds, and Bendall and Knight, on a similar pair of
machines, took 10 minutes 12 seconds.
On Sunday afternoon, November 24th, just before dusk, a Speed Handicap
over two laps of the Brooklands course was decided. The handicapping
was, on the whole, good, Alcock,[1] Sopwith, and Knight, the first
three home, all finishing in that order within a space of four seconds.
Harry finished, but was unplaced. It is interesting to note that this
was the first race in which Alcock participated. He had recently
obtained his brevet at the Ducrocq school. Sopwith made fastest time.
[1] The late Sir John Alcock, K.B.E.
Harry had his machine out on the following Sunday to take part in
another Bomb-dropping and Alighting Competition, but as the contest was
on the point of starting rain came on and put an end to flying for the
remainder of the day. The contest was postponed until the next Sunday,
but Harry was unavoidably absent.
Busteed, Harrison, and Harry, who had all migrated from Australia
together in April, 1911, had all now achieved some distinction in
flying, and Australian prowess in the art was well in the ascendant.
Busteed and Harrison were doing big things for the Empire as
instructors of flying, and Harry, by his record flights, was doing much
to promote British aerial prestige.
The business of the Sopwith Company having expanded extensively in the
meantime, Mr. Sopwith had decided to lease a skating-rink in Canbury
Park Road, Kingston-on-Thames, so that more room than could be provided
in the sheds at Brooklands should be available for the construction of
machines to meet increasing demands from the Admiralty, War Office, and
foreign governments. The skating-rink was ideal, not only on account
of the space available for erecting big machines, but also owing to
the level floor, which was a great facility. Mr. Sigrist, who had been
largely responsible for the design of the Sopwith Tractor biplane and
had accompanied Mr. Sopwith on his American tour, was the works manager
there.
And so I leave 1912, conscious of the fact that, in the few months
during which he had been flying, Harry had contributed in some
considerable measure to the fostering of that record-breaking spirit so
necessary for the advancement of the new art and science.
CHAPTER III
ABOUT ALTITUDE AND OTHER RECORDS
A Colleague’s Impression of Harry in 1913—Harry in the
Passenger’s Seat—“Aerial Leap-Frog”—Competition
Flights at Brooklands—Testing the First “Bat
Boat”—End of the First “Bat Boat”!—Harry as a
Salesman-Demonstrator—Testing the Second “Bat Boat”—70
Miles per Hour in 1913—Asçent to 7,450 feet in 15 minutes—A
Prize Flight—How Harry Deserted from a Race which He Won—How
a Biplane Beat a Monoplane—More Seaplane Testing—The British
Altitude Record—11,450 Feet—“Bravo, Hawker!”—A
Journalist’s Tribute—Flying in a High Wind—To the Isle of
Wight and Back.
CHAPTER III
Even greater things were in store for Harry in 1913, for although
the British Duration Record was an achievement to be handed down to
posterity, it pertained only to British aviation. His performance
in the Round-Britain Seaplane Race, so generously promoted by Lord
Northcliffe and the _Daily Mail_, as one of the milestones in the early
progress of marine aircraft, will live in the world’s history
unbounded by nationalities.
A friend who worked in the shops at Canbury Park Road, where he took
part in the construction of the Round-Britain seaplane, well remembers
with the observant eyes of a hero-worshipper seeing Harry make daily
tours through the works in company with Messrs. Sopwith, Sigrist,
and R. O. Cary, the general manager. Other than a sturdy physique
and cheery countenance, Harry bore nothing to indicate that he was
an aviator by profession. He was wholly without affectation and a
favourite with everyone belonging to the Sopwith concern.
Sir Charles D. Rose, Bart., M.P., Chairman of the Royal Aero Club,
handed to Harry on Tuesday, January 7th, 1913, a cheque for £500
in respect of the prize awarded in connection with the Michelin
Competition. Of this sum, Harry received 25 per cent. as remuneration
for his special services to the Sopwith concern. On the same day, too,
Cody received his cheque for £600 in connection with the No. 2 Michelin
Competition.
Mr. Sopwith himself was out testing a new tractor biplane on Friday,
February 7th, 1913, at 7.20 a.m., carrying Harry as a passenger. To
ride in the passenger’s seat of an aeroplane of new design is
a task simple enough truly, but not too pleasant for an experienced
pilot. This flight speaks volumes for the great confidence which Harry
always had in his friend and benefactor. This new tractor-type machine
was dismantled after the flight and sent to Olympia for the Aero Show,
where it was purchased by the Admiralty. After the Show, Harry himself
tested the machine at Brooklands, flying for 1¼ hours on March 1st
preparatory to handing it over to the responsible naval authority,
Lieut. Spencer Gray, who flew it to Hendon with a passenger.
The Sopwith-Wright machine was still in service, and Harry was flying
it on the Saturday. On the Sunday, February 9th, he was third in a
Quick-starting and Alighting Competition, during which he was lost to
view above the clouds.
Harry also scored a “third” in the Speed Handicap at
Brooklands on Easter Monday. Inasmuch as the spectators were left
uninformed as to the result of the race, the event was a farce. Harry,
on the Sopwith-Wright, was very severely handicapped, and had it not
been that Barnwell passed the finishing-post on the wrong side, he
would not have been “placed.”
The weather being particularly favourable, some very fine flying was
seen at Brooklands on Sunday afternoon, March 29th; over a dozen
machines being out. There were no races, but numerous exhibition and
passenger flights were indulged in. Harry interested the spectators
by practising “aerial leap-frog” on the Sopwith-Wright,
a performance which caused much astonishment. With the propellers
completely stopped, he made a well-judged landing from a considerable
height.
During March, 1913, the first tests of the Sopwith “Bat
Boat,” which had made its début at the Olympia Show, were carried
out at Cowes. Sopwith, whose motor-boat experience stood him in good
stead, first took the machine out, but although a speed of sixty miles
per hour was attained, the machine would not leave the water. Harry
had a shot at it, but with no better success. Sopwith, making another
effort, rose a few feet, but the hull landed heavily and was damaged.
Left out all night on the beach, the machine was almost destroyed by
a gale, one report circulating to the effect that only the engine and
propeller remained intact!
Harry was not hampered by any scruples with regard to trading on the
Sabbath, for on Sunday, April 13th, 1913, he set out to play the rôle
of aeroplane salesman, and incidentally to make his Hendon début. The
specific purpose of his flight on the Sopwith-Wright from Brooklands
to Hendon was to offer the machine for sale to the Grahame-White
Company, whom he regarded as good potential purchasers, as they had
recently sold two of their machines to the War Office and would require
others to replace them in order to cope with increasing demands for
exhibition and passenger flights at the London aerodrome. On the way
there he had a forced landing at Wormwood Scrubbs, but was able to
proceed and complete the whole journey in 40 minutes, inclusive of
the delay. He terminated the flight by making several circuits of the
aerodrome at Hendon, and subsequently made a number of other exhibition
and passenger flights which demonstrated the wonderful handiness and
airworthiness of the machine. His passengers during the afternoon
included Manton and Gates, both well-known pilots of the Grahame-White
Company. Passengers were greatly impressed by the stability of the
machine and the strangeness of sitting on one side of the engine.
Landing, too, was rather a new sensation, as the seats were so low
in comparison with those of other types that to one on the point of
touching the ground the landing chassis seemed to have fallen off!
On the following Sunday, at Hendon, Harry carried several more
passengers, and at times there were as many as eight machines in flight
simultaneously.
Harry tested the second Sopwith air-boat at Brooklands on Monday,
May 25th. The machine, engined with a 100 h.p. Green, which was a
development of the original “Bat Boat” mentioned above, was
fitted with a temporary land chassis. One of the struts of this gave
way on landing, resulting in damage to the left aileron. The original
“Bat Boat” had warping, or flexing, wings.
Tuesday, May 6th, saw Harry testing a new Sopwith Tractor biplane
engined with an 80 h.p. Gnome. This machine was a three-seater, and on
the Wednesday he had two passengers up for half an hour above 1,000
feet. He flew the machine over to Farnborough on Friday, May 9th, where
he carried out an official test, when a speed of 73·6 miles per hour
was attained.
[Illustration: THE SOPWITH TABLOID, THE PROTOTYPE OF THE FIGHTING
SCOUTS, DESIGNED BY HARRY, IN ITS MODIFIED FORM FOR LOOPING-THE-LOOP,
AFTER HIS RETURN FROM AUSTRALIA.
[_Facing p. 56._
]
On May 10th, 1913, the Saturday before Whitsun, with Harry in charge,
the new 80 h.p. Gnome Sopwith Tractor biplane fully justified the big
things that were expected of it, at Hendon, whither its reputation
had travelled in advance. Harry flew over from Brooklands to take
part in an Altitude Contest in competition with Verrier on a Maurice
Farman, Robert Slack on a 50 h.p. Gnome Blériot, Brock on a 35 h.p.
Deperdussin, and Hamel on an 80 h.p. Blériot. The machines left the
ground at short intervals and were all soon out of sight, hidden by
clouds. In making a single circuit of the aerodrome, the Sopwith
machine climbed 2,000 feet. Hamel was first down after about 20
minutes, quickly followed at short intervals by Slack, Verrier, and
Brock, in the order named. Harry, however, was nowhere in sight, and
did not appear again until about forty minutes after he had started.
As there was a time limit in the contest, the judges, having concluded
that Harry had made a forced landing elsewhere, announced the following
result:
1. Verrier 4,450 ft.
2. Brock 4,300 ft.
3. Slack 4,000 ft.
Hamel retired, disqualified by a faulty barograph, although he had
ascended to somewhere above 7,000 feet. In the meantime Harry had
reached an altitude of 7,450 feet in 15 minutes—a truly remarkable
performance. At that height, having lost his bearings, he decided to
land, which he did at Ponder’s End, a few miles east of Hendon,
still keeping his engine running while he enquired of a passer-by his
whereabouts. Having returned to the aerodrome and satisfied the judges
that he had landed within the prescribed time limit, he was finally
adjudicated winner of the contest. The particular machine was one of a
series ordered by the Admiralty.
Immediately after this fine performance Harry competed in the Speed
Handicap for the Shell prize of 100 guineas. The race was flown in
heats, Harry being scratch man in the second heat and giving 55
seconds to Slack and 1 minute 57 seconds to Lewis Turner, who was
flying a Caudron biplane. Turner won the heat by 17⅖th seconds,
and Harry came in last, three minutes behind Slack. His failure may
be attributed to bad handicapping, which could hardly be avoided in
the case of almost the first public appearance of a new machine with a
genuine reputation preceded most probably by an exaggerated one. After
witnessing the final, won by Turner, Harry left for Brooklands, where,
on Whit-Sunday, he carried several passengers and also tested the
engine of the Sopwith hydro-aeroplane.
On Whit-Monday, May 12th, 1913, at Brooklands, Harry was one of three
starters in the Whitsun Cross-Country Aeroplane Handicap. Rain fell
during the race. Alcock was first away on Ducrocq’s Henry Farman,
but had to abandon the race almost immediately owing to the strong
wind nearly blowing his relatively slow machine backwards. Harry was
next away on the Tractor, with a start of 76 seconds from Gordon
Bell, who flew the 120 h.p. Martin-Handasyde monoplane. Harry made a
quicker start than Gordon Bell, who sacrificed several seconds when
the starter’s flag fell. At the first turning-point Bell had
picked up 36 seconds over Harry, but lost several through turning on
an unnecessarily big radius. At the second turn he gained another 10
seconds, but also lost owing to the same cause. Harry won a fine race
by 39 seconds. This triumph of the biplane over the monoplane possessed
some significance, and seemed to indicate that the greater wing surface
of Harry’s machine enabled it to be “banked” more
steeply and consequently brought round on a shorter radius when turning.
Harry made several circuits of the aerodrome at 500 feet, while
testing the new Sopwith hydro-aeroplane, on the Saturday after Whitsun,
May 17th, 1913, at Brooklands, preparatory to sea tests to be made at
Cowes. On the Sunday, Lieut. Spencer Gray tested the Sopwith Tractor
biplane, and all present were astonished by its remarkable climbing
properties. In a wind of 35 m.p.h., Harry made several solo and
passenger flights.
Sopwith and Harry were at Cowes during the following week, ending May
24th, testing the new hydro-aeroplane, which exceeded all expectations.
Two more machines were approaching completion at the works, ready to be
despatched to Brooklands for test.
It was proposed that on Saturday afternoon, May 31st, Hamel, Gordon
Bell, Harry, and other well-known pilots should attempt a British
Altitude Record, and also possibly a World’s Record. Hamel
would fly an 80 h.p. Borel monoplane, Gordon Bell the 120 h.p.
Martin-Handasyde monoplane, and Harry the 80 h.p. Gnome Sopwith Tractor
biplane. The Brooklands Automobile Racing Club offered a prize of £50
to anyone breaking the existing record of 10,650 feet, which stood to
the credit of G. de Havilland.
The following extract from the official notices to members of the Royal
Aero Club, issued under date June 7th, 1913, tells its own story:
“BRITISH HEIGHT RECORD. —The report of the flight made by Mr.
H. G. Hawker at Brooklands on May 31st, 1913, together with barograph
charts, were considered, and it was decided to accept the height
accomplished—viz., 11,450 feet—as a British height record. The
aircraft used on the occasion was a Sopwith Tractor biplane, fitted
with an 80 h.p. Gnome.”
It is interesting to note that de Havilland’s record flight had
been made with a passenger, and that it still stood as the record
flight for pilot and one passenger.
Earlier in the day, before essaying to break the height record, Harry
made the initial tests of another Sopwith Tractor biplane, which
proved equal to the prototype. Lieut. Spencer Gray also tested the
machine for the Admiralty. When Harry set out on his record-breaking
flight the wind had dropped and the sky was clear. Weather conditions
were ideal, and the prevailing question was not “Will he break
the record?” but “By how much will he break it?” The
machine used was the one which had made the memorable ascent of 7,500
feet in 15 minutes, at Hendon, on the Saturday before Whitsun, and was
in view of the onlookers throughout the whole flight.
The climb to 11,450 feet, which beat the existing record by 950 feet,
occupied 45 minutes, and the gliding descent was accomplished in a
fifth of that time. Harry would have been able to go higher had he not
experienced difficulty in maintaining a good mixture, a circumstance
which culminated in the carburetter freezing and rendered a descent
imperative. On landing he was received with hearty acclamation and
congratulations. With the winning of the previous altitude contest
at Hendon and the Whit-Monday handicap at Brooklands, this flight
constituted the third important success of the particular machine used,
and Mr. Sopwith was congratulated on having such a first-class pilot as
Harry Hawker to demonstrate the wonderful and surprising capabilities
of the new Sopwith products.
Harry’s height record of May 31st inspired “The
Dreamer” to contribute to _Flight_ the following, published on
June 14th:
“BRAVO, HAWKER!
“I wish I could have been at Brooklands to have seen your
smiling face when you came down from your lofty position. Your face
always does me good when I gaze upon it. I suppose you sometimes feel
a bit glum, like the rest of us, but I have never happened to be there
to see it; and this time I am sure it would have acted as a tonic, as
I am just a bit run down at the moment.
“That you have got a machine that can climb, and that you know
how to handle it, I know. I only wish Brooklands were more get-at-able
so that I could see more of you and the others there....”
At the week-end aviation meetings at Brooklands free passenger flights
were generally balloted for by the spectators, and Harry frequently
carried the successful participants.
Fresh from his triumph, Harry was out carrying passengers as usual
on Sunday, June 1st. Once, while he was carrying two passengers,
Gordon Bell was also out flying solo on an identically similar Sopwith
Tractor, thereby enabling comparisons to be made. The general view
was that the machine appeared to climb as well with the passengers as
without them. On descending, Harry announced his intention of making
attempts on the altitude records for one, two, and three passengers.
In a wind blowing at about 30 miles per hour, Harry was flying the two
Sopwith Tractor biplanes at Brooklands on Sunday, June 8th. Among the
several passengers whom he carried, up to 2,000 feet or more, was his
friend Commander Samson, R.N.
On the Monday, Harry flew to the Isle of Wight and back, with a Mr.
Boger as passenger. The outward and return journeys occupied 55 minutes
and 50 minutes respectively, and a height of 5,000 feet was maintained.
CHAPTER IV
AMPHIBIANS—AND MORE HEIGHT RECORDS
An Amphibian of 1913—Harry Gets up to 13,000 feet with a
Passenger—Several Other Height Records—Three Climbs in One Day—The
Progress of the Sopwith Enterprise—Several Types of Aeroplanes—And
Seaplanes—Harry Wins the Mortimer Singer Prize—And Has Time to
Spare—A Friendly Race with Hamel—A World’s Height Record—A
Cross-Country Race—Preliminaries of the Round-Britain Seaplane
Flight—Conditions Governing the _Daily Mail_ £5,000 Prize.
CHAPTER IV
The following is extracted from the official notices issued to members
of the Royal Aero Club, under date June 7th, 1913:
“MORTIMER SINGER £500 PRIZE.
“Mr. T. O. M. Sopwith is now ready to make the flight for this
prize, and attempts will be made almost immediately. The course is
on the Solent, and the official observers on behalf of the Club are
Lieut. Spencer D. Gray, R.N., and Mr. J. N. Spottiswoode. The aircraft
is a Sopwith Tractor biplane fitted with 100 h.p. Gnome engine. The
pilot is Mr. H. G. Hawker. In this competition, six out and home
flights have to be made on a course from a point on the land to a
point out at sea, not less than five miles distant in a direct line,
but the latter point shall not be less than one mile from any shore.
Alightings have to be made on arrival at each point.”
In short, Harry had been detailed to carry out pioneer work with
the Amphibian type of aircraft, the initial development of which is
popularly, but erroneously, supposed to have been the outcome of the
prizes offered by the Air Ministry in 1919 for machines of this type.
Extracts from Royal Aero Club notices to members, under date June 21st,
1913:
“MORTIMER SINGER £500 PRIZE.
“Intending competitors are again reminded that this competition
is now open.
“Mr. H. G. Hawker on a Sopwith biplane has already made one
or two attempts, and will be going again as soon as some minor
alterations to the aircraft have been completed. In giving the
specification of the aircraft used by Mr. Hawker, an error was made
in regard to the motor. The aircraft is fitted with a 100 h.p.
Green.”
“HEIGHT RECORDS.
“Mr. H. G. Hawker has been keeping the officials of the Club
fairly busy of late. On Sunday last, with the Sopwith biplane, he
made an attempt on the British Height Record with two passengers. The
record of 8,400 feet stands to the credit of Major E. L. Gerrard,
R.M.L.I. Mr. Hawker, however, managed to top the 8,000 feet but
did not surpass the existing record. The following day, Monday,
with another Sopwith biplane, he set out for the record with one
passenger. The present official record is 10,560 feet, standing to
the credit of Lieut. G. de Havilland. Mr. Hawker, according to the
sealed barograph, attained a height of about 12,000 feet. After about
half an hour’s rest he decided to make another attempt on the
two-passenger record, and on this occasion his barograph recorded
about 10,000 ft.
The barographs are now being tested, and the figures will be duly
submitted to the Committee of the Club for official recognition.
It is interesting to note that these three flights by Mr. Hawker were
all made within 24 hours.”
These altitude flights certainly bore great testimony to Harry’s
characteristic untiring energy. On the 16th, although it was a
sweltering day, Harry, at 7,000 feet, was shivering, and at 12,000 feet
he could scarcely move his limbs, so intense was the cold. With one
passenger he reached 13,400 feet, rather more than the figure stated in
the above notice, and with two passengers 10,800 feet, also exceeding
the figure stated in the official notice. It is a point of interest
that his record flight with one passenger beat his own solo record of
11,450 feet, which he had made on May 31st.
When Harry made his attempt on June 15th, it was thought he had
broken Major Gerrard’s record for two passengers; and reports
to that effect purported to show that a height of 8,580 feet had been
attained, approximately 180 feet in excess of Major Gerrard’s
performance. Harry’s passengers were Messrs. Dukinfield Jones
and Simms, a young pilot who served in the Sopwith Works. The sky was
absolutely cloudless and throughout the flight the machine was fully in
view of the spectators, who marvelled at its beauty as it turned and
returned with the sun glistening on its light wings. Engine trouble
was responsible for the termination of the attempt, and, on landing,
Harry was received with warm applause. He announced his intention of
making an early attempt on the one-passenger height record (which he
successfully accomplished on the following day, as recorded above).
A detailed examination of the various official notices and Press
reports relating to the Mortimer Singer Competition points to
considerable doubt having existed among those not actually on the spot
as to the exact type of Sopwith machine employed. While it is true that
in one case the inadvertence in announcing that the engine was a Gnome
instead of a Green was officially acknowledged, in other cases such
expressions as “Sopwith Tractor biplane” were misleading,
in that they gave no indication as to the machine being a flying-boat,
and not fitted with a tractor air-screw at that. While these points
were of no material consequence, they do show the probability of a
wide confusion having existed owing to the great variety of successful
Sopwith machines; and, although it was before the war, the industry
was reaching a state when the various machines could no longer be
counted on the finger-tips. Seeing that Mr. Sopwith himself attributed
the success of his enterprise in no small measure to Harry’s
genius, references to the progress of the Sopwith concern, such as the
foregoing, are not out of place here.
Of the divers machines under construction at the Sopwith Works during
June may be mentioned a “gun bus” for naval use. This
machine, propelled by two 120 h.p. Austro-Daimler engines, had a span
of 80 feet. Then there were the 100 h.p. Green-engined twin-float
hydro-aeroplane, designed for the _Daily Mail_ Circuit of Great
Britain; and the air-boat which won the Mortimer Singer Competition,
as described above, also engined with the 100 h.p. Green. When this
machine passed its first tests on the sea a wind of 40 miles per
hour was blowing, and the sea was correspondingly rough. The machine
differed from the original “Bat Boat” exhibited at the
Aero Show in the previous February, in that a pair of inclined struts
were introduced between the engine and the fore part of the hull.
So effective was the hull in hydroplaning over the water, that the
front elevator, a feature of the original “Bat Boat,” was
abandoned.
Then, during the month, a new Sopwith 100 h.p. Anzani-engined tractor
hydro-aeroplane was tested by Harry and handed over to the Admiralty.
The tests were passed very satisfactorily, the machine leaving rough
water almost as quickly as the corresponding land machine left the
ground. A speed of 68 miles per hour was attained, and the machine had
particularly good climbing and alighting qualities. The machine was
badly damaged immediately after being taken over by the Admiralty, a
broken propeller and punctured float being the result of a collision
with a mooring-buoy. The use of ailerons was now standard practice
throughout the whole range of Sopwith machines, warping wings having
been abandoned.
With such a variety of types, one can easily understand confusion
arising from the circulation of brief reports stating that
“Hawker, on a Sopwith biplane, etc....” As for Harry, he
was obtaining an unique experience in the handling and maintenance of
several types of aeroplanes and engines.
In June, the Sopwith Aviation Company contemplated acquiring yet
another skating-rink—at Surbiton this time—in order to cope with
increasing orders. Over one hundred hands were now employed over a
floor space of 60,000 square feet. Foreign governments were sending
over deputations, to whom Harry had the responsibility of demonstrating
the airworthiness and efficiency of the Sopwith machines. The Sopwith
Tractor biplanes were particularly in demand. Among the orders executed
by the Sopwith Aviation Company during the summer of 1913 may be
mentioned one of nine 80 h.p. Gnome-engined tractor biplanes for the
Army and two similar machines for the Navy, all of which were tested by
Harry at Brooklands.
In a Cross-Country Handicap over a 12-mile course in which Harry
competed at Brooklands in June, he was too heavily handicapped to
be any but an “also ran.” The weather was ideal, except
for a slight haze. Flying pupils, who took part in the race as well
as instructors, probably scored advantageously in the handicapping.
Harry’s machine, the Sopwith Tractor, with so many records as
were to its credit, could hardly be expected to escape with a slight
handicap.
Harry captured the Mortimer Singer prize of £500 on Tuesday, July
8th, 1913, making, without any outside assistance, six out and home
five-mile passenger flights (including a climb of 1,500 feet),
alighting at each turning-point, on land or sea alternately. The
flights were carried out at Southampton Water, on the 100 h.p. Green
Sopwith flying-boat.
Extract from official notices to members of the Royal Aero Club, issued
under date July 12th, 1913.
MORTIMER SINGER £500 PRIZE.
“News has just reached the Club of the success of the Sopwith
Aviation Company in this competition. The pilot was Mr. H. G. Hawker,
on a Sopwith Tractor biplane, fitted with 100 h.p. Green motor. The
flights were made at Cowes on Tuesday afternoon, and the official
observers of the Royal Aero Club were Mr. J. N. Spottiswoode and Mr.
Howard T. Wright.
“The reports of the observers and barograph charts will be
considered by the Committee of the Club on Tuesday next, and if
everything is in order the prize of £500, kindly presented by Mr. A.
Mortimer Singer, will be awarded.”
Extract from official notices issued to members of the Royal Aero Club
under date July 19th, 1913.
“MORTIMER SINGER £500 PRIZE.
“The £500 prize, kindly put up for competition by Mr. A.
Mortimer Singer, has been awarded to Mr. T. O. M. Sopwith, the entrant
of the Sopwith biplane, which successfully accomplished the tests laid
down in the rules. Mr. H. G. Hawker was the pilot of the aircraft,
and the course was from a point on the land off Southampton Water to
a point on the Solent, five miles away. Six out and home flights had
to be made, alighting on arrival at each point. In each flight an
altitude of at least 750 feet had to be attained, and on one occasion
during the tests an altitude of 1,500 feet. The time allowed for the
carrying out of the tests was 5 hours, but Mr. Hawker completed in 3
hours, 25 minutes.
“The following is the specification relating to the all-British
aircraft used by Mr. Hawker:
“Sopwith Biplane. Motor, 100 h.p. Green; Carburetter, Zenith;
Magneto, British Bosch; Sparking-plugs, British Bosch; Propeller, Lang.
“In addition to the prize of £500 to Mr. Sopwith, Mr. A.
Mortimer Singer is kindly presenting Mr. H. G. Hawker with a
souvenir.”
The R.Ae.C. notices of July 12th, 1913, also contained the following:
“DAILY MAIL £5,000 PRIZE: CIRCUIT OF GREAT BRITAIN.
“The following entry for the _Daily Mail_ £5,000 Prize, Circuit
of Great Britain, has been received:
The Sopwith Aviation Co.
“Intending competitors are reminded that the entries close on
July 16th, 1913, at 12 noon.”
On Saturday, July 13th, 1913, Harry fresh from winning the Mortimer
Singer prize on Tuesday, was out testing a novel but useless idea in
propellers on the Sopwith Tractor at Brooklands. Two penalties of fame
which Harry had to pay on not a few occasions during his career were
posing for photographers and testing inventions for all and sundry.
After testing a new tractor biplane fitted with ailerons, on Sunday,
the 13th, Harry engaged in a friendly race with Hamel, who was flying a
two-seater Blériot monoplane. Both machines had 80 h.p. Gnome engines.
Although there was some doubt as to who really won the race, that Harry
displayed the superior efficiency of the Sopwith biplane over the
exactly similarly engined monoplane was beyond dispute.
Harry made a world’s record for height with three passengers
on Sunday, July 27th, 1913, on the 80 h.p. Gnome-engined Sopwith
Tractor biplane. On this occasion the weather was inclined to be hazy,
and in a preliminary test flight Harry lost sight of the aerodrome
at 1,500 feet, but from the ground he was plainly discernible, and
spectators were amused by watching him circling around trying to
find his bearings. Although it was rather windy, he carried one or
two passengers early in the afternoon, and it was shortly after 5
o’clock, when the wind had dropped somewhat, that he decided
to attempt to break the world’s record for altitude with three
passengers. His passengers, Messrs. Bellew, Jones, and King, were all
of at least average weight.
A few minutes past six the record-making flight began, and after making
two or three circuits of Brooklands, Harry was out of sight, forcing
his way upwards through clouds at 3,000 feet, At 8,400 feet, having
made a world’s record, and being ignorant of his whereabouts, he
decided to come down, although the machine could have climbed another
2,000 feet with comparative ease.
On August Bank Holiday, Harry, on an 80 h.p. Gnome-engined Sopwith
Tractor biplane, was one of three competitors who lined up for the
start of an Aeroplane Handicap at Brooklands. The other competitors
were Alcock on the Parsons biplane (70 h.p. Gnome), who had 3 minutes
30 seconds’ start from Harry, and Merriam on a 50 h.p. Bristol
biplane, who has 6 minutes 14 seconds’ start. The start of the
race was delayed through Alcock and Champel, the latter on a biplane
of his own design, coming into collision while “taxi-ing,”
owing to the strong gusty wind which prevailed. The Frenchman’s
biplane was damaged beyond repair in time for the race, but
Alcock’s machine only required a new propeller, which was fitted
in the space of ten minutes or so.
Fate, however, was sadly opposed to Alcock, for during the first
circuit he was obliged, through defective aileron controls, to land
in a neighbouring field, where, owing to the roughness of the ground,
his machine turned a complete somersault. He was unhurt, and having
regard to the nature of the crash, the damage, consisting of a broken
propeller and a broken chassis strut, was very slight. As I write, I
recall a discussion that once took place on the subject of the life of
a propeller, and this case of two propellers being annihilated within
an interval of a few minutes after one had replaced another on the same
machine seems significantly applicable.
After an exciting race, Merriam and Harry completed the course, the
latter winning by 45 seconds.
In the intervening days prior to August 16th, Harry was more or less
fully occupied in making preparations for the classic _Daily Mail_
Seaplane Circuit of Britain. On August 7th, 1913, with the whole
aeronautical fraternity, he shared profound grief at the death of S.
F. Cody—the hardest blow that British aviation had ever received.
Although Brooklands was fairly busy while Harry was away in the
seaplane race, the activities at the Sopwith sheds were to all intents
and purposes nil. The attention of everyone connected with the concern
was turned to his flight and doing everything possible to make its
outcome successful.
Entries for the _Daily Mail_ Seaplane Race were timed to close on
Wednesday, July 16th, 1913, and after that date until August 1st late
entries were accepted at an increased fee of £150. When the list
finally closed the entrants were: T. O. M. Sopwith, S. F. Cody, James
Radley, and F. K. McClean. Cruel fate eliminated poor Cody on August
7th. Radley, who, with Gordon England, was experimenting with a large
and ingeniously-contrived seaplane propelled by three Gnome engines
arranged in tandem, withdrew from the race, presumably because his
machine was purely in experimental stages. McClean, who had entered a
machine bearing the famous British hall-mark of Short Brothers, was
dogged by ill-luck through engine trouble and never made a start,
although no effort was spared in trying to get the machine in tune for
the long flight. In the end, only Harry and his faithful mechanic and
compatriot, Kauper, were left to try and win that £5,000 so generously
offered by the _Daily Mail_, and, what was probably more important, to
put up an interesting show and draw widespread public opinion to the
importance of Britain acquiring and maintaining an aerial prestige akin
to her maritime traditions.
The competition opened on August 16th, 1913, and within 72
consecutive hours competitors had to fly over a circuit of 1,540
miles, starting and finishing on Southampton Water, _via_ Ramsgate,
Yarmouth, Scarborough, Aberdeen, Oban, Dublin, and Falmouth,
landing in prescribed areas on the sea at each of these points, or
“controls,” for the purposes of identification. The
competition was conducted for the proprietors of the _Daily Mail_
under the auspices of the Royal Aero Club, whose organisation of the
contest was most thorough and effective. The competition was open for
a fortnight. In other words, competitors could attempt the flight in
any 72 consecutive hours between August 16th (6 a.m.) and August 30th
(6 p.m.) inclusive, no flying taking place on Sundays, which would not
be included in the time limit. Thus competitors could fly on Saturday,
rest on Sunday, and finish on Monday and Tuesday. The entrant and
pilot, or pilots, were required to be of British nationality and duly
entered on the Competitors’ Register of the Royal Aero Club,
pilots having to be holders of an aviator’s certificate issued
by the Royal Aero Club or other club affiliated to the Federation
Aeronautique Internationale. A passenger had to be carried throughout
the flights, and the combined weight of the pilot and passenger must
not be less than 264 lbs., any deficiency in this respect being made up
by means of ballast, such as bags of sand. Entrants were permitted to
change the pilots or passengers during the contest.
The complete aircraft and all its component parts, including the
motor, had to be constructed within the confines of the British
Empire, although this provision need not apply to raw material or the
magneto. Entries nominally closed on July 16th, one month before the
date appointed for the start of the competition. The entrance fee was
£100. Late entries could be made up to August 1st at an increased fee,
as mentioned above. No part of the entrance fees was required by the
_Daily Mail_, all amounts received being applied towards payment of
the expenses of the Royal Aero Club in conducting the competition, any
balance not so expended being returnable to the entrants after the
competition.
Competing machines had to remain for one hour in each of the controls,
and during the first half-hour of each such “rest” had
to be entirely at the disposal of the Royal Aero Club officials for
examination. During the second half-hour replenishments of fuel and
repairs could be made. These periods of one hour at each of the control
points _en route_ were not counted within the prescribed 72 hours.
Any number of starts could be made from the official starting-line at
Southampton Water, under the supervision of the responsible officials.
Stoppages between the controls were not against the rules, but all
alightings had to be effected on the sea, an inlet of the sea, an
estuary, or a harbour. There was, therefore, no special scope for
amphibians in this competition, as an alighting on land or inland water
was deemed a disqualification. Alightings on the Caledonian Canal and
towing anywhere were not prohibited, but the finishing-line had to be
crossed in flight. The short time limit of 72 hours did not permit one
deliberately to take advantage of this concession by covering the whole
course in tow! Individual replacements and repairs to the aeroplane
and engine could be made _en route_, but neither could be changed as
a whole. To make such repairs and replacements, the machine could be
taken ashore, but all the time so expended, outside the half-hour
allowed at the controls, counted as flying time. Five parts of the
aeroplane and five parts of the motor were officially sealed, and
at least two such seals of each five had to be intact on arrival at
each control. The machine had to be delivered completely erected at a
place appointed by the Royal Aero Club at Southampton, and handed over
for the purpose of being marked and sealed, at least 24 hours before
a start was to be made. No marks or seals were to be made after the
original marking made preparatory to an attempt. Each competitor was
supplied with a time-card, or “pay-bill,” which had to
be signed by the responsible official of the Royal Aero Club at each
control, and competitors were held solely responsible for the safe
custody of this card.
Competitors were required to be equipped with lifebelts or other
appliances for keeping afloat. One useful provision made by the Royal
Aero Club was free shed accommodation at the starting-point from one
week prior to the opening of the competition until the closing date.
CHAPTER V
FIRST ATTEMPT TO FLY ROUND BRITAIN
The Task of the Flight Round Britain—And the Machine for the
Job—Public Interest in the Pilot—“Good Luck!”—The Night
Before the Start—A Mayor’s Early Call—And the Sequel—The
Scene at the Start—To Ramsgate at Sixty Miles per Hour—An Aerial
Escort—The Ramsgate Cup—Fog in the Thames Mouth—To Yarmouth in Next
to No Time—Harry Collapses—Pickles Relieves Him—And Meets with
Misfortune—Starting All Over Again.
CHAPTER V
Before the start of the Seaplane Circuit of Britain considerable doubt
was expressed as to whether or not the competitors would be able to
complete the course in the 72 hours allowed. That the task would not be
easy was gauged from the fact that an air route following a coast-line
is by no means a desirable one, seeing that fog is apt to congregate
there, and the proximity of cliffs promotes a tiresome, and perhaps
treacherous, “bumpiness” in the air. In these respects the
essaying of a flight of 1,500 miles round the coast probably involved
a more severe trial of pilot and machine than a flight across the
Atlantic Ocean.
That recreative contributor, “The Dreamer,” in _Flight_,
July 26th, 1913, wrote:
“As the time for the start of the Round Britain race draws
near, I am given to wondering what the result will be: whether any
one of the four pilots who have entered will get through within the
time. It is possible, of course, that one or even more may do so, but
it is to be a great fight and the adventures are likely to be many
and varied. Flying has progressed considerably since the last circuit
of Britain, and taking into consideration the long-distance flights
now made almost weekly, it would hardly be safe to prophesy entire
failure. However, to take an aeroplane round the coast of England
and Scotland, with a call at Ireland, is no child’s play, and
should luck be against our brave pilots and they fail to complete the
course in the time allowed, or even do not get round at all, they
will yet have done an infinite amount of good to aviation. The mere
fact that they have entered at all, and that they have faith in the
machines they fly to accomplish such a journey, is most praiseworthy,
especially when it is borne in mind that at least three out of the
four are flying machines of their own design and construction, and the
fourth, although he cannot quite be bracketed in these conditions,
has a very high place in the realms of aviation. The more so, that he
is an amateur enthusiast first and last. Given suitable weather, I
should not be greatly surprised, and should be immensely pleased, to
hear that all four had completed the course. Should any one of them
manage it in the stipulated time, aviation, including the building of
English engines, should receive a fillip the value of which is almost
incalculable. Messrs. McClean—Cody—Sopwith—Radley, here’s
good luck to you; your pluck is appreciated in the whole world of
aviation.”
The machine which Harry piloted in the Round-Britain Seaplane Circuit
was of the tractor type. Indeed, its design and construction followed
the lines of the standard 80 h.p. Gnome-engined tractor biplane which
had been doing so well previously, necessary modifications being
introduced to suit the 100 h.p. Green engine and floats provided in
place of the land chassis. These modifications gave the fuselage,
or body of the machine, a more tapered nose than the land machine
and perhaps a prettier appearance. It was the success of his tractor
biplanes that prompted Sopwith to enter a machine of this type in
preference to one of his Bat Boats. Kauper’s seat was in front
of Harry’s, and the control was by a wheel mounted on the
“joy-stick,” rotation of the wheel operating the ailerons,
or lateral balancers, and a fore-and-aft movement of the lever working
the elevator. The rudder was operated by the orthodox foot-bar. The
petrol-and oil-tanks, each holding 45 and 10 gallons respectively, were
installed under the passenger’s seat about the centre of gravity,
so that as the fuel and oil was consumed Harry felt no extra strain
on the controls, which would have been the case had the machine not
been so balanced. By kind permission of the proprietors of _Flight_ I
am able to reproduce the following from a description of the machine,
which appeared in their journal on August 16th, 1913.
“Having already achieved such remarkable success with his
tractor-type land machine, Mr. Sopwith decided to enter a biplane of
this type, fitted, of course, with floats instead of wheels, for the
_Daily Mail_ Race Round Britain, in preference to one of the Bat Boat
type, and, in consideration of the large open stretches of sea which
have to be negotiated, we are inclined to think that he has chosen
wisely.
“In its general outlines, this machine possesses the same smart,
business-looking appearance which characterises the land machines,
further enhanced, perhaps, by the tapering nose of the fuselage,
allowed of by the installation of a 100 h.p. six-cylinder vertical
type British Green engine, instead of the 80 h.p. Gnome motor with
which the land machines are usually fitted. The fuselage, which is of
rectangular section, is built up in the usual way of four longerons of
ash, connected by struts and cross-members. In the rear part of the
body these are made of spruce, while in front, where the weight of the
pilot, passenger, and engine is concentrated, and where, therefore,
greater strength is required, these members are made of ash. The
main planes, which are very strongly built over main spars of solid
spruce of I section, are slightly staggered, and are also set at a
dihedral angle in order to give the machine a certain amount of lateral
stability. From a point just behind the pilot’s seat back to the
rudder-post the fuselage is covered in with fabric, whilst the front
portion is covered with aluminium, forming on top of the nose of the
fuselage a very neat and cleanly designed cover over the motor....
“The main floats, which have been built by the Sopwith Aviation
Company, are of the single-step type and are built up of a framework
of ash and spruce covered with a double skin of cedar. Two bulkheads
divide the floats into three watertight compartments, so that should a
float become damaged, causing one compartment to leak, the other two
would still have sufficient buoyancy to prevent the float from sinking
very deeply into the water. Two pairs of inverted V struts connect each
float with a lower main plane, while another pair of struts running to
the front part of the fuselage help to take the weight of the engine.
Spruce is the material used for chassis as well as plane-struts, the
latter being hollowed out for lightness.
“Inside the comparatively deep fuselage, where ample protection
against the wind is afforded to pilot and passenger, are the two seats,
arranged tandem fashion, the pilot occupying the rear seat. In front of
him are the controls, which consist of a rotatable hand-wheel, mounted
on a single central tubular column. Rotation of the wheel operates the
ailerons, which are fitted to both top and bottom planes, and which are
interconnected. A fore-and-aft movement operates the elevator, while
a foot-bar actuates the rudder. It should be noticed that the control
cables are only exposed to the effects of the air and salt water for a
very short length, the elevator cables entering the body just in front
of the fixed tail-plane and the rudder cables a couple of feet from
the rudder-post. The engine is supplied with petrol and oil from tanks
situated under the passenger’s seat, the capacity of the tanks
being 45 gallons and 10 gallons respectively.
“For the purpose of easy egress in case of a smash, the centre
portion of the top plane has been left uncovered. In order to minimise
end losses due to the air leaking out of the opening thus produced,
what might be called baffle-plates have been fitted to the inner ends
of the wing. These baffle-plates have been made streamline in section,
as it was found that an ordinary thin board would bend owing to the
pressure of the air trying to escape past it. With full load of fuel
and passengers on board the weight of the machine is 2,400 lbs., and
her flying speed is 60 to 65 m.p.h.”
* * * * *
Before the start of the Round-Britain Seaplane Circuit Harry was
inundated with messages from unknown correspondents, and, in order to
be spared the attentions of the public, he stayed aboard a yacht while
not tending his machine.
As a starting and finishing base for the Seaplane Circuit, the Royal
Motor Yacht Club very kindly lent to the Royal Aero Club their floating
club-house, the _Enchantress_. Among those on board on the occasion
of the start were Sir Thomas Lipton, Colonel Holden, C.B., Commander
Cummings, Major Lindsay Lloyd, Major Stephens (secretary of the Royal
Motor Yacht Club), Captain Robinson, the Mayor of Southampton, the
Sheriff of Southampton, Mr. and Mrs. James Valentine, Mr. W. B. R.
Moorhouse, Mr. J. H. Ledeboer, Mr. Thomas Marlowe (Editor of the
_Daily Mail_), Mr. Hamilton Fyfe, and Mr. Harold E. Perrin (secretary
of the Royal Aero Club). Prior to the race, Harry’s machine
was stationed on the Medina River at Ryde, where on Friday the 15th,
the day before the race, the officials proceeded to mark the various
components of the aeroplane in due accordance with the rules of the
competition.