FlightGlobal.com
Home
Premium
Archive
Video
Images
Forum
Atlas
Blogs
Jobs
Shop
RSS
Email Newsletters
You are in:
Home
Aviation History
1927
1927 - 0980.PDF
PRIVA DECEMBER 29, 1927 FLYING A Section of FLIGHT in the Interests of the Private Owner, Owner-Pilot, and Club Member THE JOYS OF JOY-RIDING WHEN serving on R.N.A.S. stations along the coasts duringthe war, we occasionally had the job of ferrying new Short seaplanes from one base to another, particularly if attachedto a central base. It was an experience that was usually liked and desired, for ferrying was often of the nature ofjoy-riding and a decided change from the monotony of five and six-hour sea patrols searching for something that per-sisted in being elsewhere. Often it meant visiting a new station where one was bound to meet fellows with whomone had passed out at Cranwell, and not seen since. Some- times a week-end was involved with its happy freedom fromhome discipline. At one big air station on the Channel where I served, observers were very keen on these trips.and it was necessary to allot them in alphabetical order. In spite of this, it was absolutely essential to be preparedfor your turn, otherwise it would be quickly and unscru- pulously usurped. I was very anxious for my first experience of fern-ing,and when my turn came I prowled the breakwater the whole day waiting for a fog to lift, which had delayed it.It was so thick that visibility was not more than twenty yards, but I was afraid it might lift suddenly if I went away, and Ishould be caught napping. I only gave in when dusk set in and my machine was housed safely with folded wings forthe night. The next day I was on the breakwater early, and although the fog was still thick, all that morning I stillclung tenaciously. In the afternoon a " make-and-mend (naval half-holiday) was unexpectedly announced for thewhole station : then only did I drag myself away, because I felt secure from usurpation. We spent most " make-and-mends " piping down until the evening, because there was nothing else to do. I was no exception to the rule, andabout 4 p.m. I was suddenly awakened by a mechanic and told the alarming news that my pilot was awaiting me. I made such frantic preparations that when I climbedinto the rear cockpit three minutes later, I was only dressed for flying and had not prepared for a probable week-end awayat another station We took off in thf harbour which gleamed wonderfully fresh and bright after being hidden by fog for so long, androse seawards over the Channel, that also looked as though it had been cleaned. Turning west over the headland, wecommenced to follow the coast for our destination that lay 100 miles away. Although this coast formed part of the areawhich I daily patrolled, I had never had time to note its points of interest, and this I was now looking forward to doing.I had no duties beyond transmitting one wireless message to my base, making known our departure, and one to ourdestination later on informing them of our approach. When the first message had been sent, I settled myself comfortablyand observed the rugged coast where a curling white fringe of foam crawled round the sands. Visibility was good, andI could see the country through the starboard wings stretching for miles towards a faint row of blue hills. We had not been flying more than ten minutes when thewind vane on the petrol pump stopped. The pilot turned and asked me to operate the auxiliary pump situated veryawkwardly in my cockpit, although its position was unavoid- able. It was difficult to pump without rubbing the skin offone's hand against the inside of the fuselage fabric. Alto- gether, it was an uncomfortable and strenuous job, for sixstrokes wearied the arm completely. Unfortunately, it was not possible to relieve the right arm either. When I hadrestored the pressure I gladly ceased, but I found that this brought an almost instant inquiring glance from the pilot anda wry expression. Finally, I realised it was necessary to pump almost continuously. Thus, as the invisible coastslowly passed by, I spent this " joy-ride " down in the con- gested depths of the cockpit, pumping away with an armthat simply refused to go every few minutes. I missed all my points of interest on the coast and said a lot of things aboutpetrol systems, pilots, and life on the ocean wave. At last 1 silently but resolutely revolted and flopped backinto my seat for fresh air and a sight of the passing world, not caring if the wings dropped off. Very conveniently forthe pilot, we were near our destination now, which lay in the corner of a large bay, and we managed to keep runninguntil landing. This is a war-time picture oi a Short seaplane leaving Plymouth Sound for a submarine patrol in the Channel.Plymouth Hoe is very distinctive in the centre. These Short seaplanes were widely used for sea patrols all round our coasts. They were fitted with 225 h.p. Sunbeam engines, carried two bombs (250 and 100 lb.),complete wireless equipment, and a crew of two. Their range was over 6 hours, and they were noted for • extreme stability. -•'-••? 882
Sign up to
Flight Digital Magazine
Flight Print Magazine
Airline Business Magazine
E-newsletters
RSS
Events
