Viewing page 11 of 17

This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.

THE SPORTSMAN PILOT

our contracts depended on its being in flying condition.  Once we started our work for the summer season we would have no time or convenience for making other than minor repairs.  I was constantly adjured to bring that little plane and myself safely back to the ground.

During the last rebuilding we had installed a "three-in-one" (conventional "dep") control.  We had double-surfaced the wing sections and eliminated the elevator which had extended in front of the plane on long bamboo outriggers.  We had rebuilt to the best of our ability and with the added life secured by double-surfacing, it was with great faith in that ship that I went back to the field to become proficient in my landings and soon to be hailed as the first woman aviator on the Pacific Coast.

During the Christmas and New Year holidays we had a little vacation.  In January, we worked on the twin-motored tractor plane and mounted in it the new 80 horsepower Hall-Scott engine.  This was one of the first 80's built by the Hall-Scott company in Berkeley, California.  Johnny Bryant took it up for test flights, but I did not like the design and worried and fretted whenever he flew it.  The we had some dry days and I went back to my grass cutting, but did only straightaway "flights."

Late in January the local boys held a small aviation meet at Dominguez Field, the last to be held there by the old gang.  Of course, we were there but we did not take our planes, because of the nearness of our migration North.  Early in February we began getting the shipping crates ready to transmit the two planes to Seattle where we were to make headquarters during the summer.

We sailed from San Francisco on February 19.  The airplane crates were lashed to the deck by we kept watchful eyes on them to be sure the cables did not wear through and let our precious cargo slide over the side.
Harbor Island, our Seattle base, was filled ground situated between Seattle and West Seattle and bounded on two sides by the East and West Duamish [[Duwamish]] rivers and at the lower end by Elliot Bay.  At the upper end of the island was the old Romano hangar, a relic of one Jean [[Gene]] Romano who had unsuccessfully attempted to make something of aviation in that locality.

Back of the hangar was the street car line to West Seattle, carried over the rivers and tidewater flats on trestles which also carried the roadway.  Over the West Duamish [[Duwamish]], near our hangar, was a drawbridge.  Along the car line were high poles carrying high tension wires.  The island was built when the rivers were dredged.  Old piling protruded form the sand from two to ten or fifteen feet.  The island proper was about one mile long and less than a quarter of a mile wide.

With a river on each side, the b ay at the lower end and tide lands at the upper with high hills to the left and the city to the right and in front, there was no place for an emergency landing.  An old board runway led away from the hangar.  Though the boards were weather-beaten and curled up at the edges and ends we had to use them for our take-offs and landings.  After missing the boards on one landing and getting stuck, I ever after brought my three wheels down at the very first boards and coasted right up to the hangar doors.

The only flyers there when we arrived were Tereh T. Maroney and a mild mannered, red-headed youngster named Herbert A. Munter.  Munter, born and raised in Nome, Alaska, had a small home-made pusher plane that had not really been flown.  But we called him an aviator, for he had the essentials and later on proved to be a splendid flyer.  He was our shadow; a good-natured lad, interested in anything that had to do with a plane or flying, he was always ready to run errands, help with repairs or do anything that would keep him in close contact with us.

Now, Mr. Bennett had taken the little Curtiss plane, John Bryant and Silas Christofferson to Seattle during the Golden Potlatch (see note below-Ed.) festivities in 1912.  That year Captain James V. Martin had held the contract for making flights during Potlatch week.  Both he and his wife were to make flights but the plan did not work out, so the sponsoring Tilikum Club was left dismayed.  Mr. Bennett saved the situation then, so he was welcomed when he returned to Seattle in 1913 with a new innovation - a woman flyer.

Always a master showman, he played up to this welcome and secured the contract for the coming Potlatch of 1913 by giving qualification flights to prove to the committee that we were capable aviators ready to deliver the goods.  The three pilots flying that season under the Bennett agreement were Frank Bryant, one of the pioneer aviators of the Pacific Coast,; his younger brother John Milton Bryant, and I.

During the weeks before the qualification flights were to take place we worked on the large plane that was shipped after we left California, and I made a few hops up and down the island to become familiar with the locations of the dead pilings protruding from the sand.  It was easy taking off from the runway, but at the lower end of the island we had trouble keeping the wheels from sinking into the sand.  One day early in March it was decided that I should experience the "feel" of a turn.  So Johnny took me up for a short hop.

Early in April it was decided to increase the span of our exhibition ship by 12 feet by adding an overhanging section to the upper wing, the idea was to obtain a greater supporting surface with added stability to the entire plane.  This meant much extra work and that wind-swept island of sand was one of the coldest places in which I had ever been located.

The hangar was old.  We had no heat, no water and no conveniences.  The nearest place where we could obtain a meal was across the West Duamish [[Duwamish]] drawbridge where we trudged each day for something hot and nourishing and where dear old Mama and Papa Elsie awaited our coming, eager to ask us how we were progressing with our work on the island.

Our fittings were hand-made; we had a work bench, a bench vise, a few tools and a gasoline blow torch.  We did all our welding at the hangar and when today scientific experts mull over their countless safety factors, I shudder to think of what they would say if they could handle some of the things that went to make up our beloved planes of those old days.

The last week in March found us preparing the plane for the night flight to be made by Johnny.  On the front of the entering edge of the top, center wing section, we fastened a bracket to hold a carbide automobile headlight.  We had some difficulty arranging for the carbide can and the tubes leading up to the lamp.  Then we worked for hours stringing fireworks along the bamboo outriggers in the rear of the plane, the fireworks having been made especially for that event.

On April 2 we had a quiet dinner in the evening to celebrate Johnny's birthday; he was 26 but looked younger.  On the night of April 8 he made the qualification flight for the Potlatch contract.  Guided by the lights form the city and the few scattered lights along the car line near our hangar, Johnny swept off the old board runway and out over the bay.  Coming back over the upper end of the island and the hangar, he headed for Seattle.  There he turned out over the bay.  When opposite the lower end of the island he scratched the fuse that lighted the flares.

He made a quick turn over the harbor and a steep, straight dive for the hangar, aided by the flares Mr. Bennet and I held on either side of the runway to guide him to the landing place.  There were no other lights and just that shot board runway to be felt for in the darkness.  Ah! those were the golden days of desperate hazards.

The day of my trial flight was beautiful and I went out to the island as happy as some child with a longed-for and newly acquired toy and was really impatient to be off.  The members of the Tilikum Club came out early before business hours and no doubt with the expectation of another female fiasco on that field.  We had run the plane outside the hangar and had everything in readiness; gas, oil and water and every turnbuckle and wire gone over thoroughly.  That going over things at the last moment was something I always insisted was a part of my work.  The men who were at act as observers stood in tense groups, evidently talking me over and no doubt placing a few bets as to my ability to make all the required qualifications.  After receiving final instructions from my manager, I climbed into the little canvas seat, goggles ready to slip into place.  Mr. Bennett gave the propeller a savage yank, the motor gave out the pulsating explosions of a perfectly tuned engine and with tachometer strapped on my left knee, I gradually but gently opened up I had a tachometer reading of 1400 rpm's.  My "instrument board" was a dollar watch and an old aneroid strapped to the steering wheel with tire tape.

Settling my goggles, I raised my hand with the "let-go" signal, pushed down on the old foot throttle and with everything wide open went bumping down the runway.  Before reaching the end of the boards I gave the elevators a quick but careful pull, cleared the runway and headed for the East Waterway.  I flew down the river, circled to the left, and flew back over the hangars at an altitude of 1800 feet and while over the trolley car tracks I climbed to 2000 feet.

Following the car line I flew to the point where I was to turn in over the city, made a circle inland to a designated building, then I turned left and flew over the Hotel Washington, The Times Building and straight out over the bay.  There I made my left turn to the island and when at an altitude of 1500 feet, kicked the switch and

NOTE:- "Potlatch" is a North American Indian word meaning a feast given by one or more tribes to one or more friendly tribes to celebrate some special occasion.  When the first ship-load of gold from the Nome gold rush landed in Seattle the citizens had to celebrate, so the annual Golden Potlatch observance held each summer was started.  The celebration started with the landing of a ship and after the ceremonials the fun began and lasted an entire week.  Because Mrs. Bryant was the first woman to fly over Seattle and since she did this during the Golden Potlatch week of 1913, she was known as the Golden Potlatch Girl, The Tilikum (another Indian word) Club was made up of leading Seattle business men.  The decorations of the Tilikum Club were replicas of Totem Pole carvings, the outstanding one being the Thunder Bird.