FlightGlobal.com
Home
Premium
Archive
Video
Images
Forum
Blogs
Jobs
Shop
RSS
Email Newsletters
You are in:
Home
Aviation History
1939
1939 - 0014.PDF
6 FLIGHT. JANUARY 5, 1939 an interminable five minutes, we caught sight of a blue streak and dashed for it madly. The town side of the river appeared rather exposed and uninviting, so on land ing we beached her on the opposite side, near the jetty, and moored there while Charles went off to secure a suit able anchor to put her on fcr the night. We made up a bridle so that she would stay in what we considered was the most sheltered position, and prayed that the wind would not get any stronger, and if it altered its direction that it should veer and not back, as our little anchorage was rather exposed to winds between N.N.E. and N.W. Breakfast next' morning was rather trying for both Charles and me, as we were a little nervous as to how Jemima would stand up to a night afloat. On arriving in the town we found that our fears, fortunately, were ground less, for she was riding smoothly to an ebb tide and a gentle 15 m.p.h. N.E. wind. By 9-45 we were ready to take off. The water was rather rougher than we had experienced hitherto, but the wind, which was by now getting quite fresh, helped con siderably, so that after experiencing a few nasty bangs while up on the step Jemima came unstuck fairly quickly. The difficult part was not over, however, for under certain conditions Jemima is very like a glider, and a female one at that—she has to be coaxed and helped along by thoughts and sweet nothings. It is no good aiming her at a hill and expecting her to go over it, not if you are on the lee side, anyway. You have got to turn away from the lee side, cross the river to the weather bank and hug this weather shore until the up-current has cajoled Jemima sufficiently to make her realise that she really will try and climb up, in order to allow you to turn her down-wind without fear of hitting the opposite bank. After a few moments of delicate sailplane work we were able to turn and left via the entrance of the river, where the remains of the Herzogin Cecilie lie awash after the courageous but ill-fated effort to salvage her and bring her into Salcombe Harbour from the spot where she first ran aground farther round the coast. Our ground speed past Plymouth was way up in the eighties, and we were keeping -well off the coast to avoid the bumps near the high cliffs, for Jemima's aileron con trol, although adequate for normal use, sometimes felt rather insecure when being thrown about, necessitating full control first one way and then the other. It is not nice to feel the jerk of the check cables when flying only 1 ooft. or so above the water. Cornish ISAeanderings Very soon we were approaching Falmouth, so went inland a little and explored the upper reaches of the River Fal. Some of the small creeks are very beautiful with their heavily wooded banks. We made one or two practice landings and on one of them put down opposite a fisher man's cottage to chat and put in two gallons from our spare tin. From Falmouth we went partly across country to a small lake just off the shore near Porthleven, where we put down in the hope of replenishing the fuel supply. We were informed that the nearest pump was about two miles away, but Charles, ever the optimist, decided to walk it, and so give us an appetite for lunch. In the end we arrived there, but were in sore need of food and rest. A very good lunch of cold ham, pickles and pudding, in a picturesque old pub right on the quay, put us in a better mood. The harbour is typically Cornish and empties out at low tide, leaving the fishing smacks moored high and dry up against the sides of the quay. At one end a fairly large one was being built, and a couple of artists were busy sketching the scene. It was all very rural and a most agreeable change from the more easterly fishing vil lages, few of which have retained their old-world charm. The two-mile walk back with a full tin of petrol was not a very cheering prospect, so we kept an eye open for any unsuspecting motorist from whom we could get a lift. The first victim was sitting in her car with apparently nothing jn the world to do, so Charles, in an off-hand manner, suggested that I should enquire whether there was any prospect of her driving us two miles up the road to our aeroplane. Whether it was my appearance, Charles's appearance, our combined appearances, or the mention of an aeroplane which spoilt it we shall never know, but* she gave us one look and announced that she couldn't possibly do so as she was going in the opposite direction. A little farther up a man was sitting in a car outside a small private hotel, so I suggested to Charles that this . time it was his turn. To our great astonishment the man replied that he would certainly do so. After putting in our two gallons we let Jemima do her sailing trick again in order to gain the lee shore and from there took off quite easily in what was now quite a fresh N.E. wind. For the subsequent climb and turn we again had to utilise the up-draught over a hill in order to gain some height before turning. The run down to Penzance past St. Michael's Mount was quickly accomplished, and from there we gave up our original intention of going on to the Scilly Isles as the wind was strong enough to make the return trip from the Scilly Isles back to a suitable refuelling spot too long a hop for our limited petrol endur ance. We decided, therefore, to push over to the north coast and explore up as far as Newquay before returning to Falmouth for the night. Hayle to Newquay was slow work—almost a dead head-wind which brought our ground speed down to about 35 m.p.h. We didn't mind; there was plenty of time, and it was great fun wandering slowly up the long stretches of faultless sandy bays and past one or two rocky headlands where we could see the gulls and cormorants sitting on their nests on protruding ledges. " Jemima " Proves Weather worthy At Newquay we turned inland and, climbing as fast as Jemima was able, headed for Falmouth and the upper reaches of the Fal at Truro. Having done so little sea- planing, after a few minutes over the land I completely forgot about our floats and felt perfectly at ease ; then, on glancing down and realising that we were no longer a landplane, " the peril of our position rushed back to me." We had arranged to meet some motoring friends, Joyce and Jack, at Falmouth, so landed fairly well up the mouth of the river and moored to a convenient buoy off one of the harbour quays. We realised, however, that this would not be a very good anchorage for the night as it was fully exposed to the easterly wind, and might prove very un pleasant if it increased; so, after having tea and telling Joyce and Jack to drive round to St. Mawes, on the opposite side of Falmouth Bay, we flew over and tied up to a yacht mooring in the river. This proved to be an excellent spot, possessing a comfortable hotel, a good anchorage and very pretty surroundings. During the night the wind must have risen a little, as at about 7.30 a.m. I woke up to find it whistling round the room through the open window. Charles was thr&wing on some clothes and telling me to get a move on as it was beginning to blow pretty hard, and we had better go and see if Jemima was still the right way up. Our fears were groundless. She was riding to her moor ing perfectly happily, with the wind picking up and throw ing back the spray from the waves which were breaking on the bows of the floats. There was no lifting of either wing, and apart from a certain amount of yawing due to the gusts, she seemed perfectly safe. Cursing Charles for spoiling my beauty sleep I trudged back to wait for the others to get up and breakfast. In the end we got away about 9.30 and started pushing our way back against a really strong head wind to Plymouth, which we decided we could just about reach in one hop. By the time we were within six miles of Mount Batten the fuel gauge was getting a little low so we started to climb up to go over land in order to avoid having to fly round Rame Head and up the Sound. We opened up everything and when within half a mile of the shore we were about the same height as the tops of the cliffs; but on approaching closer the cliffs started rising above us, and nothing on earth would induce Jemima to climb over them. Cursing all iee shores (when flying, anyway) and with an anxious eye on the petrol gauge, we set off round Rame Head and eventually staggered into Plymouth with half an inch on the gauge still visible. Mount Batten, which we had intended to visit and test the resources of His Majesty's Air Force, appeared to be rather too exposed and rough, so we went higher up the
Sign up to
Flight Digital Magazine
Flight Print Magazine
Airline Business Magazine
E-newsletters
RSS
Events
