JOHN ALCOCK AND Arthur Whitten Brown achieved aviation immortality with their first non-stop Atlantic flight in June 1919. But they were almost beaten to the honour by the Australian Harry Hawker and his British navigator, Kenneth Mackenzie-Grieve, writes BRENDAN LYNCH.
The pair came within 850 miles of Ireland in their 32-foot long Sopwith Atlantic biplane on Monday, May 19th, 1909, before being forced to ditch with a radiator problem.
The diminutive Hawker was Britain’s most popular pilot. Son of a Melbourne blacksmith, he started working as a mechanic at the age of 12 to save sufficient money to emigrate to England. He learned to fly after joining Sopwith Aviation and soon became the company’s chief test pilot. As well as setting altitude and endurance records, he is credited with being the first pilot to learn how to control a spin.
Mackenzie-Grieve said, “He is an ideal pilot, with unlimited pluck, unfailingly good judgment, and an inexhaustible supply of good spirits. I am tempted to believe that he takes advantage of some sixth sense which allows him to become an integral part of the machine.”
The contestants who gathered in Newfoundland in the freezing spring of 1919 were competing for the £10,000 non-stop prize offered by Dublin-born newspaper magnate, Lord Northcliffe. But, at the same time, the US navy was attempting to make the first-ever Atlantic crossing in well-policed stages via the Azores and Lisbon. Noted for his brash manner, Hawker became a subject of controversy in the US when he remarked, “It’s hardly a serious attempt with a ship every 20 yards! If you put a ship every 50 miles, you have no faith in your motors.”
The Australian made Newfoundland’s first flight on Thursday, April 10th, 1919. After inordinate delays caused by fog and snow storms, he and Mackenzie-Grieve set off on their Atlantic attempt on Sunday afternoon, May 18th. Apart from the inevitable fogbanks, the weather was good for the first few hours. They sped steadily eastwards at a healthy 105mph into a full moon-lit night. Waltzing Matilda author, Andrew “Banjo” Patterson, celebrated Hawker the Standard Bearer and his effort to bring aviation honour to their native country: “Now who are these whose flag is the first/ Of all the flags that fly/ To dare the storm and the fog accurst/ Of the great North Sea, where the bergs are nursed,/ And the Northern Lights ride high?”
Shortly after 10pm GMT, however, the standard bearer’s luck began to change. The aircraft ran into turbulent cloud, soon afterwards the engine water temperature rose alarmingly. Surmising that loose ends of radiator solder were clogging the water pump filter, Hawker dropped the plane’s nose to clear the obstruction. The manoeuvre seemed to work and they continued for a couple of untroubled hours.
But, at 12.30am and having flown over 800 miles, the water temperature soared again. Hawker throttled back the engine which once more seemed to cool the water. Finally, at 6am, and within 850 miles of Ireland, both he and Mackenzie-Grieve accepted that they would very soon run out of water which would damage the engine. They pursued a zig-zag course in search of a possible rescue ship and, just before the remaining water boiled away, an old Danish tramp steamer, the SS Mary, loomed out of the fog.
The pilot skilful sea-landing just 200 yards away from the vessel and, despite the heavy swell, the fliers were hauled aboard the steamer at 8.30am.
The SS Mary which was en route from Norfolk to Aarhuus had no radio and Hawker and Mackenzie-Grieve were presumed dead by their friends in Britain and Newfoundland. The Australian was widely mourned. Lord Northcliffe immediately offered £5,000 to help his presumed widow and her baby daughter. Mrs Hawker was one of the few who obstinately believed that her husband was still alive. She reminded sympathisers how he had survived his crash-landing off Portrane, Dublin during the 1913 Round Britain race. She replied, “With firm faith in the power of God to succour my husband and his companion, wherever they fell, but with lonely heart, I thank you for your most generous offer. Whenever the time comes for my trouble to be relieved, among my happiest duties will be that of teaching my little Pamela that her father did not hesitate to venture all for the honour and glory of his country. While appreciating this as a very noble offer, I can not and will not, as you know, believe that my husband is not alive.”
The SS Mary reached Scotland on Sunday, May 25th. London cinemas interrupted their performances to break the news of the fliers’ deliverance, the audience of a Wagner concert at the Royal Albert Hall stood and cheered for several minutes. Hawker and Mackenzie-Grieve were greeted by thousands when they arrived at London’s Euston station. But Hawker did not waste excessive time on celebrations. A week after his arrival, he was delighting the crowds with aerobatics at London’s Hendon aerodrome.
The Australian died in 1921 at the age of 32 doing what he loved best, flying. He suffered a haemorrhage which caused him to crash near Hendon. Mackenzie-Grieve died in 1943 in Victoria, British Columbia. It was suggested years later that it was the incorrect fitting of a radiator shutter control which had denied the gallant duo Atlantic glory.
Brendan Lynch is author of Yesterday We Were in America. Alcock and Brown, First to Fly the Atlantic Non-Stop, Haynes Publishing, with Foreword by Len Deighton.