From The Press, 26th of June 1975:
First Tasman solo flight ended badlyOn the afternoon of January’ 7, 1931, Mr T. Bagley, a resident of the isolated Gillespie’s Beach in South Westland saw an aircraft flying low overhead. The pilot called down to him, “I want to land.”
It was the first airplane he had seen in New Zealand. He shouted back but his voice was lost on the sound of the aircraft’s engine, so he pointed to Weheka, where he knew there was suitable landing ground. Mr Bagley was afraid that a disaster might occur. He walked out to Weheka, where he was told that the aircraft had landed much further north at Harihari.
The aircraft had just completed the first solo flight of the Tasman Sea. The pilot was a young Sydney aviator, Guy Menzies, aged 26, the son of a Drummoyne doctor.
A Harihari correspondent said the aircraft, Southern Cross Junior, “to the astonishment of residents, made not only a forced landing but a crash, which could be heard half a mile away.” The aircraft landed in the La Fontaine swamp, on the property of Mr A. Wall, turned upside down and broke its propeller.
A passing Hokitika Central Dairy Factory cream truck was the first vehicle to the scene, its driver, Mr Kelly, and others waded out to the aircraft to help extricate the pilot. Then the telegraph began to hum. Most surprised were the Australians when they heard the news.
Guy Menzies had bought the aircraft from Lieutenant Ulm, Kingsford-Smith’s companion, only a fortnight earlier. His mother was not even aware that he had bought it. His family thought that he planned to fly from Mascot airport to Melbourne and then to Perth, hoping to break the air record.
Indeed, his brother asked him to pass on regards to friends in Perth. Guy Menzies then donned his flying helmet and goggles, and as he started his Avro aircraft, he handed down some letters to his brother, and took off.
It was 1 a.m. Sydney time, and as the aircraft took off, Dr Menzies and his other son opened the letters. Then they learned the truth: Guy was intending to fly over 1200 miles on his own to New Zealand.
Efforts were made to warn shipping in the Tasman Sea, but (even if this was successful) Menzies never saw a ship throughout the whole flight.
The trip of 12 hours was uncomfortable, and bumpy. At times visibility was so bad that Menzies flew only feet over the sea. His planned destination was Blenheim, but in the rough weather he was diverted. Later he said he would have reached Christchurch, but for the fog over the Southern Alps. He had enough petrol for about two hours when he arrived over New Zealand, but searched the coastline for a suitable landing place.
“It was wise to come down for here I am safe,” he said later.
Menzie’s first view of New Zealand was at Okarito — which was also Tasman’s first sighting in 1642 — and as he circled he was seen by two prospectors. He dropped a note, but this was not immediately found. Later it was reported that it had been recovered — wedged in an egg sandwich.
He flew north, seeking a suitable landing area. La Fontaine looked a likely spot, but it was a swamp. The aircraft overturned. Menzies was rescued uninjured, and taken to the home of Mr and Mrs J. Hewer, nearby, and then by the cream lorry to Ross, where the first of many mayoral receptions he was to enjoy in New Zealand took place. Word spread rapidly, and people turned out along the route to Hokitika, to cheer the history-making aviator.
Said the "Grey River Argus”: “At Keller's Hotel, Hokitika, a large crowd gathered and cheered, and he was carried shoulder high into the hotel where he was overwhelmingly welcomed.”
From the balcony of the hotel, he was welcomed by the Deputy Mayor (Mr D. J. Evans) and accorded musical honours. In reply, Menzies said he had not expected a reception, and was taken aback by the warmth of the reception.
The acting Prime Minister (Mr E. A. Ransom) sent him a telegram of "admiration” for his deed from the ber for Westland (Mr J. O’Brien) sent one expressing "a hundred thousand welcomes.”
The news was slow in spreading around Australia. Initial reports said that Sydney was astounded. One report quoted Lieutenant Ulm as saying that the flight should not have been permitted “owing to the unreasonable risk.” However, he admitted that Menzies had proved the machine. Menzies, in an interview, said that the Gipsy engine had never given him a moment’s concern during the flight.
The newspapers of the day went into raptures over the young pilot. “His personality is decidedly attractive,” said one, describing him as being slightly built, with a dark complexion, and his dark hair swept back. Menzies was popular wherever he went, shaking hands, signing autographs, and attending innumerable functions.
At one stage, Mrs Keller, the wife of the hotel proprietor, must have thought that he would not stand the pace. She mothered him off to bed at 9 p.m., and would not allow him to venture from his room until noon the next day.
Menzies was, however, concerned about his upturned, damaged aircraft. He left again for Mrs Wall’s farm at La Fountaine. It was decided that the aircraft would have to be dismantled and railed to Christchurch for repairs, and two mechanics were dispatched from Wigram by Squadron Leader J. L. Findlay.
From Hokitika, Menzies continued on to Greymouth for another Mayoral reception and then to Christchurch, large crowds turned out along the way. His dismantled aircraft which was taken by rail to Canterbury was also a tourist attraction along the way.
Before Menzies left the West Coast, Mr Tuhuru Tainui, of the Arahura Pa, had told him at a reception: “Our ancestors came here riding canoes on the ocean. You have come riding a canoe in the sky.”
In Christchurch he was greeted by the acting Mayor (Dr H. T. J. Thacker), the chairman of the Paparua County Council (Mr J. Leslie), Lady Wigram and Sir Francis Boys, president of the Canterbury Aero Club. The affable young man won the admiration of New Zealand, and succeeded in making Harihari a focal point for many days not only for New Zealanders but also for Australians.
An editorial of the time said his feat “justly entitles him to rank among the most famous airmen. His feat is akin to Lindbergh’s as it denotes a remarkable degree of initiative no less than of courage on bis part, but he has had years of experience to justify his essay.”
The Historic Places Trust is now planning to erect a notice board near the site of the landing.
