Andy Wright of Aircrew Book Review http://aircrewbookreview.blogspot.com.au/ is passionate about Second World War aviation and I consider myself fortunate that he deemed my first four books worthy of review. He has little interest in non-military aviation and so I did not think for a second that he would bother to even read Taking Flight. Not only did he read it, but he has put together a glowing review which takes into account both the book but also Lores Bonney's unrecognised (for so long) place in aviation.

 

In reviewing Taking Flight, Andy has the unequalled record of having reviewed ALL of my books. I am honoured. Here is the link to the review http://aircrewbookreview.blogspot.com.au/2016/07/taking-flight-kristen-alexander.html 

Aviation today doesn’t often make the headlines unless it’s bad news. Aircraft cross six of the seven continents hourly and usually do so to reach another continent on the other side of a vast ocean. Long distance flying is accepted if you want to see the world yet pilots of all ages still accept the challenge to tackle a route solo. Some do it in modern aircraft, some do it in vintage aircraft with or without a support crew. These flights remain remarkable achievements. If anything, today’s political and security landscape makes long-distance solo flights harder to plan let alone fly. This is especially so when trying to follow the flight path of a pioneer. Destinations have to be carefully picked and diversions assessed for their suitability and safety. Really, not a lot has changed since the early days of aviation. It is still an amazing effort to fly solo around Australia or fly to England in a Tiger Moth but, because of the airliners passing thousands of feet overhead, the mainstream don’t get it. It’s all been done before.

That’s the key point. Being the first to do something can’t be taken away. With the birth of aviation, everything was a challenge. That said, it still took something incredible to be lauded as a pioneer. There are two types of pioneer aviator. Those in the first group remain household names to some extent: Amelia Earhart, Amy Johnson, Jean Batten, Charles Kingsford Smith, Bert Hinkler, Charles Lindbergh, Wiley Post, Alcock and Brown etc. They have been extensively memorialised, their aircraft, or replicas thereof, reside in museums or attend airshows, books are still written about them and their likeness appears on currency. Then there’s the second lot. The unknowns. Those who have achieved just as much, perhaps more, but have been almost lost to history. Were they the less attention seeking perhaps? They might be remembered on a plaque somewhere or have had a book published, or written about them, that remains long out of print. To me, someone who inhabits the world of historic aviation, but who regularly wears blinkers out of necessity, Lores Bonney is one of the forgotten.

Well, with a bit of luck, and a good book, perhaps this will no longer be the case. One of Australia’s leading aviation biographers, Kristen Alexander, was asked by the National Library of Australia to write Bonney’s story using the library’s Lores Bonney Collection as the core. This collection, among various personal items, includes Bonney’s letters and diaries. Why is she significant? In a time when female pilots were regarded as somewhat of a novelty, Lores was determined to fly and, once she had achieved some semblance of proficiency, immediately started planning long distance flights. She first set a record for the longest one-day flight in Australia (more than 1,500 kilometres) and her second was a mere solo jaunt around the country. She was the first woman to achieve this. Mother England beckoned, as was its wont, so Lores set out to become the first aviatrix to fly there from Australia. Her trusty DH.60 Moth ‘My Little Ship’ was her companion on these first adventures and Lores, being the confident and driven type she was, trained as a mechanic and fitter so she was capable of maintaining the aircraft and effecting repairs. Husband Harry backed her flying financially but was always reluctant to let her go (although he did propose an idea that became her longest flight).

While she is credited with that first flight to England, a prang while landing to avoid weather in Burma’s very southern regions, led to Lores disassembling the Moth on the beach and having it transported, by barge and ship, to Rangoon and Calcutta respectively. It was a journey of more than 1,800 kilometres. Her timetable flew out the window as did her ability to get through the rest of the flight ahead of the known worsening weather en route. In typical Lores fashion, however, despite moments of self-doubt and frustration, she battled through and made it. It was 1933 and something no other woman had done before.

Lores followed the England flight up by becoming the first person to fly to South Africa, her country of birth, from Australia. This time she did it in a Klemm and the relative comfort of an enclosed cockpit. The destination was an inspired choice as, even by 1937, there were few aviation firsts to be conquered. The Klemm was falling apart and once again the weather played a big part in delays. Add in a little dysentery in India (and other health issues on the way) and bureaucratic bungling, and she didn’t arrive in the Union until mid-August, having left in April. What would be her final major achievement had been completed before her fortieth birthday.

Her plans for further adventures were scotched by, first, the loss of the Klemm, now fully rebuilt, in a hangar fire and, second, the outbreak of the Second World War. She continued to fly, but eventually gave it up in her early fifties, and kept travelling overseas exploring the world before her death in 1994.

To be honest, it is quite likely I would not have read this book if it were not for the author’s name on the front. It is outside what I like to think I specialise in (those blinkers again). That makes me a bit of an idiot as Lores Bonney was an unstoppable, albeit shy to a fault when out of the public eye, force of nature, her diminutive size belying an incredible fortitude that even managed to overcome her crises of confidence. With the resources available, I cannot think of a better author to tackle a new book (there is another, much older biography) on this pioneering aviatrix. The Alexander factor, as I like to call it, of teasing out personal minutiae, of tying together an inordinate number of threads, to sculpt an almost tangible image of a flyer long gone, is in full song here. Indeed, given it is a return to the individual biography for this author, after several years working on a collection of personalities, the Bonney work has captured a biographer at the top of her game. Having stepped away from wartime aviation and embracing the finicky, almost artisan, world of pre-war civil aviation, Kristen has got inside Lores’ persona and produced an insightful and revealing book.

A large format softcover of more than 270 pages, the endpapers include a very useful map of Lores’ travels in the Moth and the Klemm. The photos, at least one per two page spread, are reproduced well with the left-hand page being dedicated to either a full page photo (usually of Lores) or a smaller image accompanied by a detailed caption. Many of the better photos of Lores are well-selected, and enlarged, and often speak volumes particularly those featuring the aviatrix elbow deep in an engine or at large in one of her many destinations. The narrative, therefore, is limited to the right-hand pages and effortlessly combines excerpts from letters and diaries with details of Lores’ preparations, innermost thoughts, flying, failures, successes and adventures. It is an incredibly easy read and those personal photos of Lores really make an impression.

Will Lores Bonney’s history-making life emerge from the wilderness and into the mainstream because of this book? Probably not. Aviation enthusiasts will appreciate it and her name and achievements will continue to pop up because they will always maintain their sense of awe. She flew in the time of Johnson, Batten and Earhart, to name the obvious ones, two of whom were published authors, and remains overshadowed by these contemporaries. If, somehow, Lores Bonney does enter the public interest, it will be because of Taking Flight and, who knows, perhaps this book will be the genesis for the release of Bonney’s two unpublished (due to rejection!) manuscripts. Now that would be good news.

Aviatrix Lores Bonney’s Feminine Practicality

Originally published on NLA Publishing's blog on 1 March 2016 (Note 23 November 2023: no longer on line:)

When you write someone's biography, you try to find some common bond with your subject. Aviatrix Lores Bonney and I are unalike in so many ways but there is one thing we have on common. We both wear pearls! I laughed out loud when I read how she came to like this simple, elegant jewel.

It came about before the Great War, while still a student in Germany. One day, the girls were told that the Kaiserin would visit. It was a ‘great day of excitement'. Lores was throbbing with anticipation—‘She's going to speak to me, she's going to speak to me'—but the Kaiserin ‘stopped beside the girl next to me. And I really could have scratched her eyes out'. When she saw the empress' magnificent necklace, pearls instantly became Lores' ‘pet jewel'. They ‘have been an extravagance of mine ever since'. The adult Lores was often photographed wearing a strand or two and, I must confess, I am rarely seen without my own.

Lores in her pearls (left) and with a lace trim collar (right).

Lores was considered a women of taste. She often appeared in the ‘Best Dressed' newspaper columns and her costumes were described in detail, including the handmade French frock of cream net and lace that she wore at her party in honour of Bert Hinkler, after he became the first person to fly solo from England to Australia. Six months later, Hinkler was back in Brisbane and taking Lores up for her first ‘taste of the air' on 7 September 1928. For this life-changing occasion, she teamed an aviator helmet and googles with an elegant ensemble featuring a subtle touch of lace trim on her collar.

Three years later, Lores was learning to fly. Discovering a passion for long-distance flying, she set an Australian record for a one-day flight in 1931 and she became the first woman to circumnavigate mainland Australia by air in 1932. In 1933, she set her sights on becoming the first woman to fly solo from Australia to England. But what to wear? Lores commissioned her husband, a leather goods manufacturer, to make her a leather coat and suede overalls.

Lores in her leather flying coat (left) and dressed for comfort and practicality (right).

Fashion was important to Lores and she made every effort when preparing for her epic transcontinental flight to blend comfort, practicality and style. Space for personal items in My Little Ship, her Gipsy Moth biplane, was limited, yet the aviatrix had to cater for climates of great extremes. Ultimately, she planned a simple, modish wardrobe that was easy to maintain and manage. For cold weather, she packed her overalls and coat. For the tropics and deserts, she wore blouses and shorts. On landing, she would don a simple wrap skirt. She also considered what to wear when she wasn't flying. She selected a light floral dress for afternoon wear, which could be topped with a coatee. At night, she would add a bright sash or fresh flowers: ‘Presto! An evening frock'. As for jewellery, Lores never wore it during long flights, as she worried that treasured pieces might be stolen. The only exception was a simple white-gold band. The pearls, of which she was so fond, were left behind.

Taking Flight. Lores Bonney's Extraordinary Flying Career highlights the achievements of a pioneering aviator but does not forget that Lores was as much concerned with her identity as a feminine woman as well as a record-breaking pilot trying to establish her place in a man's world. When it is launched on 8 March 2016—International Women's Day—I will wear my pearls in Lores' honour.

(This next bit wasn't in the NLA blog post)

And how did I come to love pearls so much? Well, it was through my mother. My Godmother gave her a strand of pearls, which she loved. And I coveted. Mum allowed me to wear them when I got married and, on my last birthday before she died - almost 20 years ago now - she gave them to me. I am now rarely seen without them. And so, when I wear them at the launch, it will be in Lores' honour, but it will also be in remembrance of my mother, and in thanks to my Godmother.

My Mother and Godmother both wearing pearls at my graduation. I am pearl-less. And, although I am not green-eyed with jealousy, I am green-eyed. The opus stud is at least mum's.

Proudly wearing pearls (and husband) at my wedding.

There are the pearls again, round about when my first book was published, 10 years after Mum's death.

Still wearing them!

NLA Images:

Lores Wearing Pearls, Papers of Maude (Lores) Bonney, c. 1920–c. 1990, nla.gov.au/nla.ms-ms10127

Lores with Nance Hinkler, Papers of Maude (Lores) Bonney, c. 1920–c. 1990, nla.gov.au/nla.ms-ms10127

Aviatrix Lores Bonney Boarding Her Gypsy Moth at Charleville, c. 1933, State Library of Queensland

Lores Standing in Front of My Little Ship, Papers of Maude (Lores) Bonney, c. 1920–c. 1990, nla.gov.au/nla.ms-ms10127

Lores Bonney and International Women's Day 2016

International Women’s Day has been an annual event for over a century in some countries and many decades in Australia. The women of Brisbane—or at least some of them—were early supporters of it when, on 8 March 1924, the Women Workers’ Organisation held a dance and speech night. Details appeared in the popular ‘Tea-Time Talk’ column in Brisbane’s Daily Standard but, judging by Lores Bonney’s example, it seems as if media support for women’s endeavours did not extend much beyond the women’s pages.

The Daily Mail’s article of 12 August 1932, for example, was typical of the press treatment Lores received throughout her flying career. Despite acknowledging that she had made ‘two very creditable’ flights, it detracted from the accolade by attributing her ‘definite associations with aviation’ to her husband who, ‘though he himself does not fly, is a cousin of Hinkler’. The Mail continued to denigrate Lores’ achievements by waxing lyrical about her femininity: ‘Mrs Bonney proves that flying does not diminish womanly charm. She combines love of the air with a passion for her home, and is definitely a feminine type, dark [and] petite’. Descriptions of her non-flying wardrobe were intermingled with details of the prospective flight. The ‘vivacious brunette’, gushed the Mail, favoured ‘picturesque styles’ and outfits ‘chosen with true chic’.

Proving that little had changed in her press portrayal, the trend continued. In the lead-up to the Brisbane–Adelaide Centenary Air Race in 1936, scattered among articles proclaiming her aerial competency, were comments about her culinary prowess and instead of proudly showing off her flying leathers, she was photographed wearing a neat apron and reported as spending ‘some of her happiest hours in the kitchen’. The home-maker, not the record-maker, was the prevailing image. Is it any wonder that Lores was largely unsuccessful in her struggle to secure sponsorship for her transcontinental flights?

Lores Bonney’s femininity was as much a part of who she was as her accomplishments. It didn’t have to be denied but Lores should not have been defined by it, nor should her achievements be undermined because of it. Her femininity just needed to be placed in a proper context.

Certainly, I did not want to hide Lores the woman—nor did NLA Publishing. We wanted to reveal all aspects of a well-rounded personality, character and career. Stylish, house-proud Lores who deferred to her husband, was just as valid historically as Lores the record-breaking pilot. It says much about Lores and her success as an aviator that, despite the media’s dual depiction of her as a pretty little fashionista and competent pilot, the prevailing images now in the public domain—and Taking Flight, for that matter—are those of Lores the pilot, garbed in either suede flying kit or white overalls. Barely a pinny or picturesque frock in sight.

It was not easy to gain acceptance in the male-dominated aviation world of the 1930s. On the morning Lores embarked on her Australia–England flight, The Brisbane Courier’s journalist ‘wondered at and admired the courage of the frail little woman in what, to the lay mind, was a frail little machine’—and the next day shared those musings with the Courier’s readers. Happily, others recognised Lores the pilot rather than the fragile little petal. When she stopped off at Charleville, the proprietor of the hotel presented her with a bottle of whisky, the traditional gift to all pilots about to depart Australia. At Darwin’s Victoria Hotel, she was put up in the Aviator’s Room where all pilots were accommodated before hopping off from Darwin or arriving from foreign climes. She was accorded the same privilege as her male peers including Bert Hinkler and Charles Kingsford Smith.

Lores wanted to fly above all else, and she did indeed make it happen, using every means at her disposal. She relied on her husband’s good nature and finances, she drew on the experiences of other pilots, and she built on her own. She continually improved her flying skill and planned diligently. Things did go wrong—they always do—and you will read some horrifying accounts in Taking Flight—but even though Lores came close to death many times, she never gave up. Lores well proved that she was far from frail. Indeed, she had as much gumption as any man. Or any woman. As any pilot.

In 1990, aged 92, Lores recognised just how far women had come. Not just in aviation, but in all fields. ‘Isn’t it wonderful what women are doing these days?, she remarked. International Women’s Day lauds—and highlights—the achievements of all women, everywhere. I’m delighted that Taking Flight: Lores Bonney’s Extraordinary Flying Career, will be launched on this significant day. 

 

Taking Flight. Lores Bonney's Extraordinary Flying Career.

I am thrilled to announce that my fifth book will be released on 1 March 2016.

Taking Flight. Lores Bonney’s Extraordinary Flying Career celebrates the life and achievements of one of Australia’s foremost pioneering aviatrixes. Early 'buzz' is very favourable.

 http://www.kristenalexander.com.au/media#296

Taking Flight will be launched on 8 March, on International Women’s Day. https://register.eventarc.com/33002/book-launch-taking-flight

From her first taste of the air during a joy ride with Bert Hinkler, Lores Bonney was hooked.

With licence in hand and the full support of her husband, she took to the skies with relish and discovered a passion for long distance flying.

Her accomplishments were remarkable. In 1931, she set a new Australian record for a one-day flight by a woman and, in the following year, she was the first female to circumnavigate mainland Australia by air. In 1933, she was acknowledged as the first woman to fly from Australia to England and in 1937 she became the first person to fly solo from Australia to Cape Town, South Africa. She was regarded as perhaps Australia’s most competent aviatrix.

In 2011, Lores’ goddaughter donated to the National Library of Australia a number of artefacts and documents relating to the aviatrix’s flying career. The diaries Lores kept preceding and during her 1933 and 1937 flights are the cornerstone of this collection, and are at the heart of Taking Flight.

Important as those diaries are, I also draw on a broad range sources—many of which are in the National Library’s collection—including interviews, published recollections, contemporary newspaper accounts and official documents.

NLA Publishing have produced a magnificent book. It is full of illustrations from the National Library’s collection, some from my own albums, and from other aviation holdings. As well as the narrative, there are lots of detailed captions and text boxes, and extracts from Lores Bonney’s 1933 and 1937 diaries.

Taking Flight: Lores Bonney’s Extraordinary Flying Career enhances understanding of Australia’s era of pioneer aviation, and reinforces Lores Bonney’s reputation as a significant Australian airwoman. It includes details of Lores’ pre-flight life, her first flight and record-breaking flights, a close encounter with Charles Kingsford Smith, her role as one of Australia’s premier airwoman, participation in the Brisbane–Adelaide air race and the search for the missing Stinson. It includes brushes (and near misses) with famous Australian and international flying stars and details of her post-flying career.

Perhaps surprisingly, Lores diaries expose the woman behind the pilot who, like all of us, possessed strengths, weaknesses, virtues and vices. With the honesty associated with a private record, the aviatrix did not conceal her disappointments and fears, nor her psychological fragility towards the end of her African flight. All this is revealed in Taking Flight. Read it! And discover much about one of Australia's most significant female flyers.

RRP is $A39.99 but you can pre-order your signed copy for $A34.99 (plus p&p) via Alexander Fax Booksellers. (I will even inscribe it if you prefer!)

Just follow the links and we will let you know when stocks are available. http://www.kristenalexander.com.au/books/takingflight

If you can’t wait until the book is released, cast your eyes over the below edited extract from the Australia–England section:

A crowd of about 150, including close friends and Queensland aero club members, assembled at Archerfield aerodrome on 10 April. Lores’ face looked pale and drawn; she had had a sleepless night. Even so, she was ‘feeling all OK’. According to The Daily Mail, her husband gave her a ‘last word’. Snugly attired, with a scarf draped around her neck and a belted leather coat covering a blouse, she exchanged a few brief words with a well-wisher. Final farewells complete, the aviatrix climbed into My Little Ship, her Gypsy Moth aeroplane. According to The Brisbane Courier’s journalist, who ‘wondered at and admired the courage of the frail little woman in what, to the lay mind, was a frail little machine’, My Little Ship then coasted across the aerodrome as the aero club’s escort formed up behind. At 8.30 am, she ‘led the way into the upper air, and, after circling, was lost to view’, leaving behind her husband and friends, Brisbane, and Archerfield aerodrome which had witnessed the completion of her previous record-breaking flights. Five days later, she left Australia’s shores.

The first days of her epic journey were not without incident as she maintained a record-breaking pace. Her flying skills were sound and luck was on her side as she gamely battled through. Within days, however, good fortune abandoned her. After leaving Singapore on 20 April, Lores encountered ‘One storm after another & very rough going.’ Three hours out of Alor Star, she was ‘enveloped in it’. Buffeted by strong winds, Lores struggled to maintain control.

The sky darkened dramatically. Soon the gusts were so fierce ‘it became almost impossible to correct the bumps’. Lores was terrified that ‘my wings would be ripped off ’. The aviatrix’s Gipsy Moth biplane, My Little Ship, was ‘tossed about like a leaf in the gale’. One moment, it was ‘racing, nose down at breakneck speed’. The next, the airwoman was thrown onto the right side of the cockpit, then the left. Within a blink, ‘in a violent upward current’, the Moth was practically vertical, seemingly suspended from its upright nose; the machine was ‘hanging on her prop’. It was getting darker and darker as My Little Ship blundered through the monsoon. Clinging to the controls, Lores used all the strength of her petite frame and every skerrick of flying skill to maintain stability—and to stay airborne.

Lores battled for about 20 minutes then ‘lost all visibility’. She was ‘flying very low’ and ‘was afraid of barging into the many small islands’ that dotted the sea in the Mergui Archipelago. ‘I suddenly felt a vigorous jolt as though I had struck something. I found myself well over on my right wing, and it took me all my time to bring her back again.’ It may have been ‘just one of those violent currents’ but it made the airwoman feel ‘very uncomfortable’. Indeed, she was ‘decidedly terrified’. It was 5.30 pm, with heavy lightning ahead. She was only about 30 miles from Victoria Point but, with a sky ‘as black as ink’, she thought it best to land.

The aviatrix flew over a coastline. She ‘circled several times and decided the beach was best’ as there were ‘too many bushes on the land’. There were several buffalo about so she ‘side slipped down between the herds’. Lores was ‘just flattening out’ when she saw the ‘buffalo walking right into the path of the plane’. There wasn’t enough room to take off again to avoid them. As she landed, she: ‘tried to swing a little to the left, but unfortunately the beach sloped away … the wing caught the water & swung her round, the next thing I felt was the wheels dragging & big spray came up I felt a terrific bang on my forehead and my face was under water.’ My Little Ship had flipped over. Lores was trapped.

You’ll just have to read the book to find out what happens next!

 

Taking Flight. Lores Bonney’s Extraordinary Flying Career

STOP PRESS! My fifth book will be going to the printers in less than a month, and the final artwork for the covers has been signed off.

 

As you know, I have been puddling around in WWII service aviation for over a decade and so Taking Flight. Lores Bonney’s Extraordinary Flying Career is a departure for me but, as with any writing project, it has been challenging and fulfilling and has opened up to me a whole new vista of Australia’s aviation history. Hopefully it will highlight a new perspective of that history to others who were not aware that women played their own significant part in it, and who do not know of Lores Bonney’s place it in.

 

And what did Lores Bonney achieve? (BTW: the name is pronounced Lo-ri.)  

 

Lores Bonney’s aerial achievements were remarkable; in her day she was regarded as perhaps Australia’s most competent aviatrix. In 1931, she set a new Australian record for a one-day flight by a woman. In 1932, she became the first woman to circumnavigate mainland Australia by air. In 1933, she was acknowledged as the first woman to fly from Australia to England. She made the first solo flight from Australia to Cape Town, South Africa, in 1937. This was to be her last long-distance expedition.

 

The former airwoman donated a considerable archive to Sydney’s Powerhouse Museum in 1984. She withheld some items and, in 2011, her goddaughter gifted them to the National Library of Australia. ‘MS 10127 Papers of Maude (Lores) Bonney’ includes correspondence with the Civil Aviation Branch of the Department of Defence, objects associated with the aviatrix’s flying career, news clippings and photos, scrapbooks, trophies, and even a flying suit and cap.

 

Taking Flight. Lores Bonney’s Extraordinary Flying Career is based on these two collections and, in particular, the most significant items in the National Library’s collection: the diaries Lores kept preceding and during her 1933 and 1937 flights.

 

I love it when covers tell a story and there is much more to this than just the image of a seemingly confident aviatrix. As you can see, Lores is standing in front of an array of radiant beams of light. They don’t just mirror her great smile. They directly relate to a potentially fatal flying accident.

 

Just before that accident (and you will have to read the book to find out about the actual accident) a photo was taken of Lores in flight. Afterwards, a friend commented that it ‘seems to show light rays from above meeting in an aura of brightness behind the pilot’s head in the cockpit. Moments later you were lucky to be still living’. Lores was deeply religious and often claimed that God flew as her co-pilot. Her friend wondered if the halo had anything to do with him. Perhaps it did. Looking back on it, Lores considered that the ‘only thing … which saved us both from being killed was that it was not our time to go’.

 

 

So, here is a sneak preview of the cover art for Taking Flight. Lores Bonney’s Extraordinary Flying Career which is due out in March 2016. Compare it with the photo taken before the accident. I think you will see the inspiration for part of the cover design.

 

I will advise full details of the book here in due course! Just try and stop me!

 

 

Amelia Earhart and Lores Bonney

 

24 July 2014 was the 117th anniversary of the birth of Amelia Earhart. Amelia and Lores Bonney were almost exact contemporaries - Lores was born on 20 November 1897 - an interesting coincidence given they both took up long distance flying.

 

It had not gone unnoticed by Brisbane's Sunday Mail (9 April 1933) that ‘long fingers seem to be associated with aviation genius’ when it compared Lores' hands with those of Amy Johnson and Amelia Earhart.

 

Lores' and Amelia's aerial path almost crossed.

The Australian aviatrix had arrived in Cairo during on her Australia—South Africa flight when Amelia and her navigator, Fred Noonan, left Miami, Florida on 1 June 1937. They had flown down to South America, hopping off from Natal in Brazil and arriving at Dakar in French Senegal on 9 June. Next stop was Gao, on the 10th. When Lores ‘got to Khartoum’ after an enjoyable break in Cairo, ‘they told me there that Amelia Earhart was about two days away from Khartoum. Well, it didn’t matter to me when I got to Cape Town and I waited’.

Amelia had expected to cross Africa in four or five days but, after touching down at Fort Lamy, the capital of Chad, she was delayed briefly while her Lockheed Electra’s shock absorbers were adjusted. She was expected in Khartoum on the 13th. Although Amelia, like Lores, had issued frequent despatches regarding her progress, there was ‘no word from her’. Lores waited but by the evening of 11 June, she was ‘uncertain if A. Earhart arriving whether go on or not’. She made up her mind the next morning. ‘So I felt, well, she might be months, she might have had a breakdown or something and so I went’ to Malakal on the 12th. Amelia arrived the next day.

It is doubtful if Lores would have been able to meet her as the American left 75 minutes later for Massawa, on the Red Sea coast of Eritrea. ‘She passed through, only to be lost.’ Amelia and Fred Noonan would disappear somewhere in the Pacific Ocean between Lae in New Guinea and Howland Island on 2 July 1937.

 

Slash and Burn

I am currently editing a manuscript on Lores Bonney, an Australian pilot of the 1930s. I am a tad over the word limit so I am seriously slashing and burning everything that does not specifically relate to Lores. Here is one little segment I am quite fond of . I hate to consign it to the literary equivalent of the cutting room floor so (hopefully) enjoy.    

(Lores Bonney and Charles Kingsford Smith at Archerfield aerodrome, August 1932)

‘Sensation at Archerfield’
Lores Bonney was at Archerfield overseeing My Little Ship’s final maintenance, which was been carried out by two Qantas ground engineers, on 13 August 1932, two days before her departure on her round Australia flight. She checked her tool box, tested the spare cylinder head and replenished the liquid in the fire extinguisher. This was a task long overdue: it had not been changed since Flight Lieutenant Hill (from whom she had purchased her Gipsy Moth, My Little Ship, filled it before he left England. The magnetic compass, which was oriented to the earth’s magnetic field, and also influenced by any metal objects stowed on board, was ‘swung’ to determine and record any variations. It had to be checked in this way every time a new metal object was brought on board, such as the spare cylinder head or any other iron or steel items which might be stashed in a well-stocked tool kit. Swinging the compass involved first positioning the aircraft away from excess magnetic interference, like metal structure buildings and machinery, then pointing the aircraft at each of the main compass points while still on the ground. Standing some distance from the aircraft, a mechanic orientated a landing compass along a centre line from each compass point and called out the reading to the person sitting in the aircraft. He or she would note the discrepancy on a ‘compass card’. Thus, during flights, Lores would be able to check her bearings against the compass deviation card and allow for any degrees of difference.

Lores also helped repair a broken windscreen. She did not reveal how it had been damaged but it is possible it was one of the casualties in a madcap escapade, where ‘Famous Pilot Figures in Chase’, that had caused a ‘Sensation at Archerfield’ the day before.[iii] According to the Brisbane Courier, ‘a powerful roadster motor car, driven at breakneck speed ... heralded a melodrama that for thrills and incidents outshone any motion picture’. The Chrysler Imperial, which had been brazenly stolen from the showrooms at Ward Motors Ltd, careered into the aerodrome. Recently knighted Sir Charles Kingsford Smith was based at Archerfield during the Brisbane leg of his barnstorming tour of Queensland (which coincided with Exhibition Week).[iv] He was standing near Southern Cross, the Fokker F.V11b/3 trimotor monoplane in which he Charles Ulm and Americans Jim Warner and Harry Lyon had made their 1928 trans-Pacific flight. Smithy saw the Chrysler racing towards him and, realising the driver intended to damage his aircraft, grabbed from the cabin the two rifles he always carried with him. He handed one to his mechanic and the two of them took up armed defence of the Fokker. The driver headed straight for them but, then apparently deterred by the Smithy’s impromptu armed guard, swerved. The roadster crashed into the tail of the Southern Cross Midget, which had been acting as tender to the Southern Cross during the flying circus’s Queensland tour, then slammed into the tail of a Gipsy Moth. But that didn’t stop it.

It was mayhem. Smithy later commented that he had ‘never seen the ‘drome clear so quickly’.[v] As the Chrysler raced along the tarmac, W.E. Gardner, the Queensland Aero Club’s chief instructor, grabbed a control stick from one of the club’s Moths and hurled it at the driver. He swerved, narrowly missing five of the club’s Moths and continued towards the club house, through its fence and onto the western boundary fence, through a neighbouring property and another fence before hightailing it down the Ipswich Road to Oxley.

Meanwhile, Smithy, Charles Matheson (who had taught Lores to fly) and some other onlookers had commandeered an innocent bystander and his car to set out in hot pursuit. (It all seemed so Keystone Cops.) Still with rifle in hand, Smith took aim and fired at the fleeing roadster which rolled to a stop. The driver was pulled from the car with Smith’s rifle firmly in his back. Elder was later charged as a person suspected of being of unsound mind.[vi] Excitement over, Smithy resumed his ‘short air tours in the famous Southern Cross’[vii] and Lores continued her preparations.

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[iii] The Brisbane Courier, 13 August 1932

[iv] The Brisbane Courier, 2 August 1932; Mackersey, Smithy. The Life of Sir Charles Kingsford Smith, Little, Brown and Company, London, 1998, p. 272–274

[v] The Brisbane Courier, 13 August 1932

[vi] The Brisbane Courier, 13 August 1932

[vii] Advertisement, The Brisbane Courier, 6 August 1932

Lores Bonney's first flight

Mrs Maude Rose Bonney arrived at the Eagle Farm aerodrome to meet her husband’s cousin, Bert Hinkler. Husband at elbow, steering her through the small crowd of Hinkler’s adoring fans, she was nervous but excited as they made their towards Hinker’s Avro Avian biplane, dubbed Avian Cirrus.

 

 

(Bert Hinkler and Avian Cirrus, G-EBOV)

Bert was at the tag end of his round-Australia tour in the wake of his record breaking flight from England to Australia. Not only had he been the first to fly solo over the route but he had reduced the England–Australia record from 28 days to a little under 15 1/2 days. Maude, or Lores as she preferred to be called—a diminutive of Delores—and her husband, Harry, had hosted a party for Bert and his wife the day before. As her guests chatted, she was captivated by Bert’s descriptions of his aerial adventures. She listened with more than polite enthusiasm as he discussed the intricacies of the sturdy Avian Cirrus and his now famous flight. Mentally, she climbed into the cockpit with him. When she told him she had never flown, he promptly offered to take her up the next day.

 

 

(Lores Bonney and Nance Hinkler)

And so, there she was at Eagle Farm on Friday 7 September 1928, elegantly attired in frock and coat, topped off with a leather flying helmet and goggles, standing by Bert’s graceful aeroplane which, to her, seemed like ‘a great silver bird perched awaiting flight’. With Bert at the controls, she climbed in, arms filled with a bunch of roses from her own garden. They hadn’t a destination in mind but, when she told him she wanted to deliver them to a friend at Yeerongpilly, their route was set.

Lores may have never flown before, nor could she drive but she had an innate sense of direction. She had no trouble picking out landmarks, calling them out to Bert. She certainly impressed him with her navigational talent. He thought she had a good ‘bump for location’. And indeed, they found her friend’s house with little difficulty. Bert circled above while she tossed out the roses. Then she gave herself up to the thrill of the flight. Her ‘first taste of the air’.