"That's it". Louis Bleriot's first words upon landing at Dover.
The First Aviator Across the English Channel
It is 2 a.m. July 25th 1909, a disgruntled Bleriot is roused from his hotel by his ground crew. The foul weather that has kept both Louis Bleriot, and his rival Hubert Latham, grounded on the Calais headlands, has abated and the sky is clear, the air calm.
Bleriot: "I swear I wasn't in any mood to fly, I would have been happy if they'd told me the wind was blowing so hard there was no point in even trying."
He does not feel like breakfast, his friends force him to eat. As he reaches Les Baraques his customary vigour has returned, and he barks orders to the mechanics to bring out his aircraft.
Bleriot: "Now I had courage for two!"
The plane's engine is warmed up. A dog barks, and runs into the spinning propeller. It is killed. Some of the villagers are murmuring about bad omens. Bleriot clad in new blue overalls, and a leather helmet, climbs into the plane. It is 4:41 a.m.
Bleriot: "I was gripped by an uneasy feeling: What was going to happen? Would I make it to Dover? Just passing thoughts, which did not last long fortunately. Now I thought only of my machine, the engine, the propeller. Everything was going now, everything vibrating. At the signal, the crew let go. I was up."
The pilot applies full throttle and soars out over the dunes and passes his escort destroyer, the Escopette. He settles back to fly the plane.
Bleriot: "I went on and on, peacefully, without any feeling, any impression of anything, I felt I was in a balloon. As there wasn't any wind, I didn't have to use any rudder or wing-warp. If I could have locked the controls in position, I could have put my hands in my pockets. And the engine, what a marvel! Ah that fine Anzani of mine, it didn't miss a turn."
By mid-Channel the pilot is well satisfied:
Bleriot: "The first part had been easy; cake. Not wanting to slow down, I said so long to the Escopette, and I no longer had an escort. Too bad. Let come what may. For ten minutes I kept on, alone, isolated, lost in the middle of that vast sea, seeing nothing on the horizon, unable to make out a ship. This calm, broken only by the roar of the engine, cast a dangerous spell."
" Those ten minutes were long ones, I was happy to see a grey line in the west separating itself from the sea and getting bigger as I looked. No question, it was the English coast. I was almost safe. I headed immediately for that white mountain. But the wind and the mist caught me. I had to fight it with my hands, with my eyes.......I didn't see Dover. Where the devil was I, then?"
Unknown to the pilot, the wind is pushing him northward towards the North Sea. But then he spies three ships!
Bleriot: "Tugs? Ferries? No matter, they seemed to be heading towards a port: Dover, no doubt, so I calmly followed them. The sailors were cheering me enthusiastically. I almost wanted to ask them the way to Dover. Alas I didn't speak English."
He flies south along the towering cliffs. He cannot fly over them. He looks for an opening.
Bleriot: "The wind I was fighting now caught me worse than ever. Suddenly, at the edge of an opening that appeared in the cliff, I saw a man desperately waving a tricolour flag, out alone in the middle of a field, bawling 'Bravo! Bravo!' I didn't point myself, rather I flung myself at the ground."
The pilot must land, but the violent gusts of wind can destroy him, even at his moment of triumph.
Bleriot: "At the risk of smashing everything, I cut the ignition at twenty metres. Now it was up to chance. The landing gear took it rather badly, the propeller was damaged, but my word, so what? I HAD CROSSED THE CHANNEL!!"
Bleriot Gallery
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