VII. ON TO SYDNEY. NEW SOUTH WALES
Thursday, 1st November.
As we fly over the houses of Melbourne for the final time, we look back with gratitude on the immense warmth and hospitality shown to us in this city. Our cabin is filled to capacity. Fraulein Thea Rasche, who is to remain in Melbourne for some time before embarking on a journey across America, will be missed as a pleasant and sporting companion on our return leg. In her place, however, comes another lady: Lady Hackett Moulden of Adelaide, who will accompany us for the entire journey back. Our friends Domenie and Gilissen are, naturally, with us once more; they too will cherish very fond memories of their stay in Melbourne.
Roscue Turner and Clyde Pangborn are joining us as far as Canberra, where a lunch is to be hosted in our honour by the Australian Government. The New Zealand aviatrix, Jean Batten, is flying with us as far as Sydney. Also on board are our representative, Kolonel Koopman; the chief representative for the Koninklijke Paketvaart Maatschappij and KLM, Mr A. Bakker; and several reporters. We have promised to fly over Albury and make a brief stop at Cootamundra before attending the government lunch in Canberra, continuing our flight to Sydney in the afternoon.
The weather conditions are favourable—a perfect day to fly at a lower altitude and take in the landscape. The flight over the forest-clad ridges is full of variety. After an hour in the air, we arrive over the town of Albury. As we circle low over the town, we see that the residents of Albury have all left their homes to cheer us. From the streets and rooftops, people wave their farewells. Naturally, we fly a few honorary circuits over the racecourse. Seen from the air in broad daylight, the patch of land where we stood with the Uiver does not seem particularly large, even to us, and the tracks of our wheels are still clearly visible in the green turf.
On behalf of KLM and the crew of the Uiver, Mr Bakker has written a few parting words to the town of Albury. As we pass low over the racecourse, we drop this letter, wrapped in our national colours of red, white, and blue, near the grandstand. Unfortunately, there is no one on the track at this moment, though we assume the message will be found later.
After one last turn over the town that received us so warmly, we set a course for Cootamundra. This is, in truth, a considerable detour. However, on the night when the storm prevented us from reaching Melbourne, the people here—just as in Albury—lit the airfield with cars and flares. Hundreds braved the rain for hours until news arrived that we had landed safely in Albury. Consequently, we felt we simply could not refuse the invitation from the municipal council and the local flying club, and promised to make a stop at Cootamundra on our way to Sydney.
We continue our journey in a north-easterly direction. The mountains are soon behind us as we fly over the lowlands. The effects of the exceptional floods are still clearly visible; rivers have burst their banks everywhere, inundating large swathes of land. The airfield at Cootamundra is large and in good condition. Had we been unable to land on the Albury racecourse, we certainly could have made a safe entry here. Cootamundra is not only an important railway junction but also the terminus for the future British air route between England and Australia. From here, separate branch lines will be established to Melbourne and Sydney.
At about eleven o’clock, the Uiver stands on the field at Cootamundra, greeted by the enthusiastic cheers of a crowd of thousands. We are immediately escorted to a platform where a microphone has been set up. Various dignitaries speak; Roscue and Jean Batten also give speeches, and finally, we are given the opportunity to say a few words of thanks to the people for their warm welcome.
After a half-hour stay, we board again, and the Uiver takes to the skies amidst the cheers of the enthusiastic crowd. A thirty-five-minute flight over the ‘Australian Alps’ brings us over Canberra, the capital and seat of government. The city, which is barely ten years old, consists mainly of government buildings. Here sits the ‘Commonwealth’, the government of Australia. We circle briefly over Parliament House and the Governor-General’s residence before landing on the fine airfield.
Cars take the party to a hotel, where we first freshen up. Afterwards, Roscue, Pangborn, Moll, and I, accompanied by Mr Bakker, proceed to Parliament House. We lunch with Ministers and Members of Parliament; we are addressed and honoured most warmly. In his reply, Roscue Turner expresses the hope ‘that these fast flights will bring the nations closer together and that it will no longer be necessary to wage war’, a sentiment that meets with universal approval. It goes without saying that our own replies seem rather poor in comparison to the great eloquence displayed by the Members of Parliament.
After lunch, we return to the airfield to bid a fond farewell to our friends Roscue Turner and Clyde Pangborn, who are flying back to Melbourne in another aircraft. They are placing their Boeing aboard a ship to be returned to California.
Then the engines roar to life once more as we take off for the final leg of the day, bound for Sydney. The route takes us over the so-called ‘Blue Mountains’, high ranges much dreaded by pilots who must fly this stretch in poor weather. We, however, enjoy very favourable conditions, and with a tailwind, the Uiver reaches Sydney in under an hour.
This city is built upon low ridges that extend halfway across the bay. It is the capital of the state of New South Wales and, from the air, one of the most beautiful cities we have ever seen. Spanning the centre of the bay is a very high bridge connecting the two parts of the city.
To the south of the city, we find the airfield ‘Mascot’—a singular name for an airport. In the centre of the grounds, a paved runway has been constructed according to the American system; at precisely three o’clock, the ‘Uiver’ was brought down onto this runway.
Here too, the interest is enormous and the enthusiasm great. Despite our protestations, we soon found ourselves on a raised platform once again, being addressed and honoured for the third time today. Yet this reception was every bit as warm and spontaneous as those that preceded it.
In the evening, we dined with the Dutch Consul-General in Australia, Mr and Mrs Staal; Mr and Mrs Bakker and several other compatriots were also in attendance. After dinner, the diplomatic corps arrived, and we were introduced to the representatives of, I believe, every civilised nation in the world, which left me with a touch of linguistic confusion. Otherwise, all went well, except for the fact that the taxi driver who took us back to the hotel that night lost his way, repeatedly turning into dead-end streets. Eventually, we arrived and enjoyed a well-deserved rest.
The following morning, we visited the head office of the Koninklijke Paketvaart Maatschappij, which, for the moment, resembles a KLM office more than anything else. They are busy sorting the thousands of letters that came with the Uiver from Holland, which must be returned to the philatelic senders.
We have received a great deal of help and cooperation from the Koninklijke Paketvaart Maatschappij during our stay in Australia. Piles of letters and telegrams awaited us, but the entire office was at our disposal, so the most essential correspondence was soon dealt with. The schedule for the return journey is now finalised: tomorrow we depart for Brisbane, the day after for Port Darwin, and then we shall stay for two days on the island of Bali. The reason for our more leisurely pace on the return journey is, firstly, to allow our passengers, Mr Domenie and Mr Gilissen—for whom the outward journey was somewhat like a film played at double speed—an opportunity to see something of the Dutch East Indies. Secondly, it is necessary for the Douglas aircraft to be introduced to the various stations along the regular Indies route.
That afternoon, the crew of the Uiver held a council of war at the hotel. We set about bringing our administration up to date as best we could, as it had fallen somewhat into arrears during the recent bustle. At five o’clock, we attended a ‘cocktail party’ organised in our honour by the Koninklijke Paketvaart Maatschappij. Here, we were introduced one by one to some three hundred guests; I have the sensation that the fingers of my right hand have been turned quite square. Otherwise, it was an exceedingly pleasant affair.
A radio broadcast followed, and finally, a most delightful dinner with our hosts from the Koninklijke Paketvaart Maatschappij, Mr Bakker and Mr Lammertz, and their families. We are sorry that we cannot remain in Sydney longer; it is a magnificent city, and we should have liked to have seen more of it. We hope, therefore, to return here again before long.