SMITHY: PIONEER AVIATOR
“ …a highly individualistic pilot of international renown …”
In less than forty years of life, the pioneer aviator, Sir Charles Kingsford Smith (CKS) – a man who had a close association with the development of Carnarvon’s transport industry in West Australia – established himself as a highly individualistic pilot of international renown.
Only 170 cm tall (5ft 6in), Smithy, as he was known, clowned his way into many hearts throughout the world, enlarging his gigantic reputation by becoming a Hollywood stunt flier, a breaker of long distance records and a trail blazer who ventured into new areas of endeavour and helped to widen man’s horizons and ease communications between those confined to isolated outposts, both in Australia and overseas. CKS started his adventurous life in Brisbane (Queensland) on February 9, 1897. Known as “Chilla” to family and close friends, the young Smith had a fondness for music and was ever eager to accept a dare.
He also, even as a lad, demonstrated a great love of human company. His winning personality scored him numerous friends and admirers, a trait he maintained for all of his life.
When his father accepted a job with the Canadian Pacific Railway, six-year-old CKS sailed to Canada with his family, remaining there for six years. Returning in 1909, Smith almost lost his life during a mishap at Bondi Beach, in Sydney, when he and three mates were swept out to sea by a powerful undertow.
Almost dead, Smith was resuscitated over a crucial 30-minute period of careful attention by a nurse on holiday.
An intelligent student, he expressed an interest in mechanics and electrical engineering and later found work at an electrical apprentice with Colonial Sugar Refining, his weekly wage equivalent of $1 per week.
At the age of 18, with World War 1 threatening Europe, he enlisted – a life style that gave vent to his exuberant spirit, a love of action and travel. He sailed for Egypt and saw the death fields of Gallipoli.
Smithy with his plane, the “Southern Cross”:
Later, in Turkey, he collected a bullet hole through his collar. After a spell as a motor cycle despatch rider, Smith was eventually chosen to join the British Flying Corps, an offspring of the Royal Air Force, a unit being organised to repel a very successful German Air Force.
Smithy embraced all with an unfettered passion. In a hasty note to his mother, he scribbled: “I have discovered one thing about flying and that is that my future, for whatever it may be worth, is bound up with it …”
With only basic flying experience, the young aviator was turned loose against his German foe, intending each encounter to be a duel to death. On one occasion, returning from a mission, CKS spotted a lone German aircraft flying ahead. From a great height, Smithy dived on the enemy, guns blazing, sending the enemy plane hurtling helplessly to the ground.
Despite his youthful excitement, CKS was still able to soberly describe war as “murder and massacre.” In his private heart, he did not relish the destruction of fellow humans.
Shortly afterwards, flying over the Somme front, another German aircraft caught him unaware by diving on CKS against the sun, making himself largely invisible. Smith’s instrument panel was shattered. At the same instant, he felt hot steel penetrating his foot. In pain, and fast losing blood, he somehow managed to get his plane home before falling unconscious. In hospital, three of his toes were amputated.
Summoned to Buckingham Palace, the young Australian pilot was presented with the Military Cross. Medal in hand, Smithy tried in his awkward manner to walk backwards from King George V, but tripped and fell to the carpet in an undignified tangle of arms, legs and crutches. Offering his assistance, the King whispered: “Get out the easy way.” So, hobbling slowly, Smithy turned his back and departed.
Later he chuckled: “I was the only man there who could turn his back on the King of England.”
Declared medically unfit, CKS returned to Australia.
In 1921 CKS realised that aviation would solve all of Australia’s problems with distances. He longed to become a commercial pilot. Joining the Diggers’ Aviation Company with several war-time comrades, Smithy had a chequered career while trying to keep airborne old dilapidated aircraft often maintained by bush undertakers (carpentry) and blacksmiths (metal repairs).
After being dismissed for stacking up an Avro plane in a rabbit warren, Smithy moved to Perth, in West Australia, to join West Australian Airways, then on the verge of launching a mail and passenger service as far afield as Derby, Broome and Carnarvon, the airline’s founder being Norman Brearley.
Brearley later reminisced: “He had to be tamed … His improvement in general behaviour was a gradual process …”
Smithy, finding himself over-booked on a flight between Fitzroy Crossing and Port Hedland, carried a spare passenger on the wing,clutching to a bracing wire, for the 480 km flight.
According to legend, Smithy married a fiery Irish girl, Thelma McKenna, from Port Hedland, at this point in his career. His happy-go-lucky temperament and infectious joking and partying were not conducive to a happy relationship and the young wife left him after only a few months.
Another high-spirited pilot, Keith Anderson, became a firm friend of Smithy. The two men were ambitious and intent on establishing air records. They wanted to fly the great oceans, but lacked the capital. Their intention was further hindered when they lost their jobs after a pilot’s strike.
Hearing of a garage for sale in Carnarvon, the unemployed aviators purchased the business and expanded it into the Gascoyne Transport Company. They obtained a truck on credit, became an agent for Buick motor-car company and set out to make a lot of money in a hurry.
Hauling station supplies, livestock and wool far more quickly than the lumbering camel teamsters, the Company flourished in theory, but degenerated on paper because of the partner’s lack of accounting expertise. To counteract this flaw in the enterprise, Smithy’s brother-in-law, Bert Pike, was engaged to sort out the clerical mess.
During his sojourn in Carnarvon, CKS quickly established his personality on the conservative rural community. Tales of his adventures and catastrophes were commonplace all over the Gascoyne.
A locally retained legend involves an alleged incident when Smithy, driving down the Gascoyne Junction track, found his path blocked by a loaded camel waggon who obstinately refused to let him go past. Always quick-tempered, CKS leapt from his vehicle a started a fist fight with the teamster. Knocking his opponent to the ground, the camel man remained in a prone position, realising full well that if he stood upright he would be knocked down again. Thoroughly frustrated by the teamster’s reluctance to fight, Smithy said: “Righto, if you won’t stand and fight like a man, I’ll fight you down there.” He dropped to his knees, laid on the ground alongside his opponent, and punched him once more for good measure.
An ex-station man remembered him at that time, saying: “He was a grubby devil. He’d arrive at the homestead covered in dirt from head to foot. He’d have a feed and drop on the bed and sleep. In the morning he’d get up without a wash, jump into his truck and be off again.”
Charles Kingsford Smith was admitted into the Masonic Lodge in Carnarvon. According to the Lodge’s register, CKS was their 177th member. At the time he was aged 27 when admitted on April 9, 1925, his profession being listed as “air pilot.” Proposed and seconded by Ilses and N. Glaris, the famous air ace was passed into the second degree on July 1, 1925, and was raised into the third degree as a Master Mason on September 3 of the same year. Smithy was elected as an honorary life member of the Lodge on August 16, 1928. A personally autographed photograph with his best wishes is preserved in the Lodge in a permanent place of honour.
By 1925 the airman had wearied of his trucking business. Leaving his affairs in the hands of Pike, Anderson and CKS went to Sydney where they teamed up with a kindred spirit in the form of Charles Ulm, an astute businessman and licensed pilot with a flair for blazing new trails. Anderson and Smith hastily disposed of their Carnarvon business and used the money to purchase two Bristol touring aircraft.
Deciding to fly their planes around Australia, the threesome successfully flew 12,000 km around the country in ten days. Their feat attracted national media publicity and an offer of practical support came from the New South Wales premier, Jack Lang, who guaranteed $7,000 towards their project to fly across the vast Pacific Ocean. Within the year 300,000 people were to welcome the flyers home after the plane, “Southern Cross,” had brought the Aussie airmen through 38 hours and 11 minutes flying time between the USA and Sydney.
In the years that followed Smithy and Ulm set other flying records around Australia and New Zealand. Hailed everywhere as national heroes, the pilots next decided to establish a record-breaking flight across the Atlantic to the U.K. and on to the U.S.A., achieving the world’s first air circumnavigation of the globe. As an extremely tall poppy, Smithy was almost certainly destined to fall at the hands of his countrymen.
Following an incident in the North West during which Smithy, his two-man crew and the famous Southern Cross were lost and grounded on mud flats for 13 days, when he at last returned to Sydney an angry crowd booed and heckled him, accusing the airman of staging a very expensive publicity stunt that ended the lives of his mate, Keith Anderson, and mechanic, Bobby Hitchcock.
When Smithy tried to explain, the mob shouted back: “Liar … Cheat … Hoaxer!” Aged 38, close to bankruptcy through unsuccessful enterprises, CKS was reduced to giving joy rides in order to make a living. Lucrative overseas offers came to the distraught airman, but he said: “I am deeply appreciative, but I am an Australian before I am anything else … I will stay here and hope that I might be useful …”
By way of compensation, CKS was honoured with a knighthood in June, 1932, by King George V for his “outstanding service to aviation.”
In November, 1935, Smithy flew a Lockheed Altair out of London in a bid to better the UK-Australia flight record of 71 hours. His plane disappeared over the Bay of Bengal, in Burma, early in the morning of November 8, 1935.
The remains of Australia’s greatest aviator were never recovered.
His mate, the New Zealand writer, John A. Lee, mused: “He was a man of rare courage and honour … a man game enough to fight for his beliefs against opposition born of mediocrity.”
Crazy pioneers, however their lives are screwed up, motivate others by their sheer skill and zeal.
— Les Nixon · 19 May 2010 · #