Post by Dave Homewood on Jul 31, 2022 23:35:32 GMT 12
From The Press, on the 15th of April 1978.
Where the airlines all began
The end of the National Airways Corporation reminded TED GLASGOW of an inaugural flight by its forbear, Union Airways of New Zealand. He recalls the flight in January, 1936. in this article.
The National Airways Corporation, submerged at the end of last week by Air New Zealand, emerged from Union Airways of New Zealand, which was the Union Steam Ship Company’s venture into the airline business
Union Airways' first route was Dunedin to Christchurch, to Palmerston North, with a stop at Blenheim, and a daily service both ways was provided. The inaugural flight was made in January, 1936. The guests included mayors, business leaders, prominent citizens. and newspaper reporters. I was one of the reporters representing "The Press".
The aeroplane was a de Havilland DH 86. It had four tiny (by modem standards) engines. This flight was a long time ago, and I am writing from memory, but I think the cruising speed was about 140 miles an hour, and the seating capacity was 10. There was no cabin crew, and so no in-flight service. I don’t think there was a lavatory; certainly I don’t recall anyone leaving his seat to use it.
The crew was a pilot and co-pilot, whose names I have forgotten. The seats were comfortable with plenty of legroom, and the windows big enough to provide a good view of the terrain beneath. We flew fairly low, as the cabin was not pressurised.
Union Airways began the service with three DH 86s. The Labour Party had been returned in the 1935 General Election. One of its planks was the nationalisation of Union Airways, which did not take place until some 10 years later.
I said above that the flight was in January. I can be slightly more precise and say that it was between January 12 and 26. I know that because in that period my wife was in Lyndhurst Maternity Hospital, having produced our son, now a lad of 42. That piece of information may seem irrelevant, but it must be remembered that in 1936 flying had not been generally accepted as a safe and regular means of transport.
This was a misconception that was cleared away by Union Airways and later N.A.C. However, at that stage there was an aura of glamour around pilots, men engaged in a daring and risky occupation. So I concocted a white lie to spare my wife an anxious day in her hospital bed. When I went to see her on the evening before the flight I told her I would not be able to see her the next afternoon as I would be relieving at Lyttelton all day. This did happen occasionally and my story was accepted. (For the record, it was January 16).
My flying experience at this time was small. I had been for a flight with the Canterbury Aero Club in a Gipsy Moth, about 15 minutes. A friend in the Air Force had taken me for a flight, against regulations I suspect, and we had done some spinning and looping, not an experience I wanted to repeat. I had also had a brief flight with J. C (Bert) Mercer, founder of Air Travel (N.Z.), Ltd, which operated in South Westland.
It was a typical summer day in Canterbury, warm and sunny with passing cloud and a moderate north-east breeze. A DH 86 parked alongside a DC-10 would be something like a mini-car alongside a tourist bus, but the four-engined airliner looked very impressive on the Harewood field that January morning in 1936. We boarded and took off for Blenheim.
It was a smooth flight, as I recall it. One of my fellow passengers was the Rev. E. T. Cox, Mayor of Dunedin. We all felt sorry for him as he was a poor traveller and had to make frequent use of the paper bags provided by the airline. He was the only one to suffer from airsickness. At Blenheim we were welcomed by the Mayor and other dignitaries and joined by some of the directors and staff of Cook Strait Airways, which ran a Nelson-Blenheim-Wellington service. We were entertained at morning tea provided by the Blenheim Borough Council, and several speeches were made. There were references to a new era in transport, milestones, a new page of history being written, and even some mention of intrepid pioneer aviators. I think we passengers squared our shoulders and felt that some of this was brushing off on us.
It was a short flight across Cook Strait and up the Manawatu River to Palmerston North, and on the way I looked down on the Marlborough Sounds where I had spent many happy days on yachting cruises. We were given a splendid municipal lunch, presided over by the Mayor in robes and chain of office, and heard again the speeches we had heard at Blenheim.
Before I left Christchurch that morning the manager of the Press Company (then Mr A. M. Burns) had given me a copy of that morning’s issue, in a special glossy wrapper, addressed to the Mayor of Palmerston North. I now approached the Mayor, made a little speech, and presented him
with the specially wrapped copy of “The Press.” He seemed a little startled, but sent his thanks to the management and said he would value it as a memento of a great occasion. It was several years before the metropolitan newspapers became available in other centres on the day of issue.
We took off on the return flight to Blenheim, where we landed and were given afternoon tea, I think as the guests of Union Airways, not the Blenheim Borough Council this time. We landed at Harewood about 5 p.m., some eight hours after our morning departure. When I visited my wife in the maternity hospital that evening and told her I had not been relieving at Lyttelton but had been to Palmerston North and back, she was not at first inclined to believe me. But I soon convinced her. And in the reporters’ room any aur that attached to the man who had flown to Palmerston North and back on the same day was soon dissipated.
Where the airlines all began
The end of the National Airways Corporation reminded TED GLASGOW of an inaugural flight by its forbear, Union Airways of New Zealand. He recalls the flight in January, 1936. in this article.
The National Airways Corporation, submerged at the end of last week by Air New Zealand, emerged from Union Airways of New Zealand, which was the Union Steam Ship Company’s venture into the airline business
Union Airways' first route was Dunedin to Christchurch, to Palmerston North, with a stop at Blenheim, and a daily service both ways was provided. The inaugural flight was made in January, 1936. The guests included mayors, business leaders, prominent citizens. and newspaper reporters. I was one of the reporters representing "The Press".
The aeroplane was a de Havilland DH 86. It had four tiny (by modem standards) engines. This flight was a long time ago, and I am writing from memory, but I think the cruising speed was about 140 miles an hour, and the seating capacity was 10. There was no cabin crew, and so no in-flight service. I don’t think there was a lavatory; certainly I don’t recall anyone leaving his seat to use it.
The crew was a pilot and co-pilot, whose names I have forgotten. The seats were comfortable with plenty of legroom, and the windows big enough to provide a good view of the terrain beneath. We flew fairly low, as the cabin was not pressurised.
Union Airways began the service with three DH 86s. The Labour Party had been returned in the 1935 General Election. One of its planks was the nationalisation of Union Airways, which did not take place until some 10 years later.
I said above that the flight was in January. I can be slightly more precise and say that it was between January 12 and 26. I know that because in that period my wife was in Lyndhurst Maternity Hospital, having produced our son, now a lad of 42. That piece of information may seem irrelevant, but it must be remembered that in 1936 flying had not been generally accepted as a safe and regular means of transport.
This was a misconception that was cleared away by Union Airways and later N.A.C. However, at that stage there was an aura of glamour around pilots, men engaged in a daring and risky occupation. So I concocted a white lie to spare my wife an anxious day in her hospital bed. When I went to see her on the evening before the flight I told her I would not be able to see her the next afternoon as I would be relieving at Lyttelton all day. This did happen occasionally and my story was accepted. (For the record, it was January 16).
My flying experience at this time was small. I had been for a flight with the Canterbury Aero Club in a Gipsy Moth, about 15 minutes. A friend in the Air Force had taken me for a flight, against regulations I suspect, and we had done some spinning and looping, not an experience I wanted to repeat. I had also had a brief flight with J. C (Bert) Mercer, founder of Air Travel (N.Z.), Ltd, which operated in South Westland.
It was a typical summer day in Canterbury, warm and sunny with passing cloud and a moderate north-east breeze. A DH 86 parked alongside a DC-10 would be something like a mini-car alongside a tourist bus, but the four-engined airliner looked very impressive on the Harewood field that January morning in 1936. We boarded and took off for Blenheim.
It was a smooth flight, as I recall it. One of my fellow passengers was the Rev. E. T. Cox, Mayor of Dunedin. We all felt sorry for him as he was a poor traveller and had to make frequent use of the paper bags provided by the airline. He was the only one to suffer from airsickness. At Blenheim we were welcomed by the Mayor and other dignitaries and joined by some of the directors and staff of Cook Strait Airways, which ran a Nelson-Blenheim-Wellington service. We were entertained at morning tea provided by the Blenheim Borough Council, and several speeches were made. There were references to a new era in transport, milestones, a new page of history being written, and even some mention of intrepid pioneer aviators. I think we passengers squared our shoulders and felt that some of this was brushing off on us.
It was a short flight across Cook Strait and up the Manawatu River to Palmerston North, and on the way I looked down on the Marlborough Sounds where I had spent many happy days on yachting cruises. We were given a splendid municipal lunch, presided over by the Mayor in robes and chain of office, and heard again the speeches we had heard at Blenheim.
Before I left Christchurch that morning the manager of the Press Company (then Mr A. M. Burns) had given me a copy of that morning’s issue, in a special glossy wrapper, addressed to the Mayor of Palmerston North. I now approached the Mayor, made a little speech, and presented him
with the specially wrapped copy of “The Press.” He seemed a little startled, but sent his thanks to the management and said he would value it as a memento of a great occasion. It was several years before the metropolitan newspapers became available in other centres on the day of issue.
We took off on the return flight to Blenheim, where we landed and were given afternoon tea, I think as the guests of Union Airways, not the Blenheim Borough Council this time. We landed at Harewood about 5 p.m., some eight hours after our morning departure. When I visited my wife in the maternity hospital that evening and told her I had not been relieving at Lyttelton but had been to Palmerston North and back, she was not at first inclined to believe me. But I soon convinced her. And in the reporters’ room any aur that attached to the man who had flown to Palmerston North and back on the same day was soon dissipated.
