Who made the first flight across the Atlantic. Illustrated magazine by Vladimir Dergachev “Landscapes of life. Non-stop flight across the Atlantic

In the 1920s, the planet literally froze in anticipation of the first transatlantic flight. The French aviators Charles E. J. M. Nangesser and Francois Coli also began to prepare for the flight. For the first time, it was decided to fly from Europe to America, from east to west, against the rotation of the Earth.

The commander was Nangesser. One of the best aces of France, according to the results of the First World War, he had 45 enemy aircraft shot down. The "brand name" on board his combat vehicle - an ace of hearts with a coffin and a skull with two crossbones - horrified the German pilots.

Flight preparation
The "White Bird", the plane on which the pilots were going to fly, was, in the words of one French journalist, a "flying tank" - the ship weighed a total of five tons, four of which were fuel in the tanks. In order to make the car as light as possible, the pilots even abandoned the radio. In addition, immediately after takeoff, the wheeled landing gear had to be removed. What obliged the plane, not intended for landing on water, to land on the sea surface in New York Bay. And, nevertheless, despite all these tricks, the fuel was barely enough.

Flight from Le Bourget to New York On May 8, 1927, an enthusiastic crowd gathered at the Le Bourget airfield (a suburb of Paris). Everyone wanted to take part in the event of the century. At 5 o'clock in the morning, the "White Bird" with Nangesser's "brand name" on board began to take off. The heavy machine did not want to obey the will of the pilots and take to the skies. Finally, as if reluctantly, she lifted off the ground and, under the escort of several military aircraft, disappeared into the sky.

Sensation from the "Press"
Since there was no radio on board. Messages could only be expected from the ground. The “White Bird” was seen over Ile de France, Normandy, and the ocean began there ... The next message came a little more than a day after the start of the flight. Hooray, they are already in America! They are telegraphing from Boston: they have been seen, they have flown by, they are on their way to New York! All of France held its breath. Only an hour later, at 17:15, the Parisians were able to take a breath. Excited by the long wait, they literally snatched from the hands of the newspaper peddlers a new issue of the Press, still smelling of printing ink. The first page was full of various headlines:

"Glory to the masters of French aviation!" "Nangesser and Kolya took the gold!" "Incredible details of a perfect raid!" Then the newspaper reported the very details of the splashdown of French aviators in New York Bay. Nangesser's plane flew out to meet a whole squadron of fighters led by Major Fulua. Accompanied by American combat aircraft, the White Bird landed on the water. The ships in the bay raised salutatory flags, sirens howled. Some New Yorkers, in disbelief, got into their boats and went out into the bay. The skies were flooded with civilian planes hired by various members of the press. The "White Bird" landed on the water incredibly easily, after which the ship was immediately surrounded by several large ships. Four seaplanes were allocated, which circled over the victor at the lowest possible height, acting as insurance. Having splashed down, Nangesser and Kolya hesitated, as if their victory over the ocean was a trifle, not worthy of universal rejoicing. But a few minutes later they emerged from the plane and hugged. To the applause of the audience, the howling of engines and the howling of sirens, the pilots landed. Yes, it was a great day of French glory!

"White Bird"

tragic mistake
Clouds of enthusiastic telegrams flew across the ocean after the White Bird. And - not a word in response ... No, the two Frenchmen failed to become the first to cross the ocean by plane. They flew, they waved their wings to the Bostonians... but they did not show up to meet the New Yorkers who were waiting for them. They are missing, Nangesser and Kolya. They were waiting, they were looking for. When all the terms had already expired, it became clear that they had died. A few minutes, a few kilometers before its triumph, the "White Bird" with an ace of hearts, a coffin and a skull fell into the waters of the ocean. This is probably the greatest disappointment, the most impressive failure in the history of aviation. They would have sat down near Boston - and they would have become winners, they would have gone down in history. But this was predetermined: a triumph before the eyes of the multi-million dollar New York, from there it will be seen and heard by the whole world!

A whole detachment of police held back crowds of offended Parisians who tried at any cost to break into the offices of the Press and smash it to smithereens. But the reason for this incomprehensible and senseless newspaper deception then remained a mystery. The whole world, despite the grief over the two pilots who almost accomplished the almost impossible, could not help but sarcastically smile: it all turned out too, they say, “in French”. As if the poor guys themselves turned out to be boasters - Nangesser and Kolya. Even grief for them was somehow stained by this scandal. The greatness of heroic death turned into a laughing stock. All that's left More than 30 years have passed since the disappearance of the "White Bird". On a cold winter morning, Cliff Iceland (an American, a lobster fisher) went out on a boat to the sea. Raising the anchor of his boat, I felt that he had hooked some contraption from the bottom. When the anchor emerged from the water, some sheets were hanging on it, similar to the skin of an aircraft ... This was all that was left of the proud and mighty "White Bird", which once decided on an unprecedented feat.

"Eyes to See" And three years later, in 1964, the riddle of newspaper fraud, the most amazing in the history of the world press, was also revealed. The well-known French journalist Georges Raven published the book “Eyes to See”, in which he spoke about how everything happened on that ill-fated day in the newspaper office, since he himself was one of the main characters in this ugly story. After it was reported that the pilots were seen over Boston and, therefore, the main barrier, the Atlantic Ocean, was overcome, the editor-in-chief made a decision that led to the collapse of the Press. “We need our newspaper to be the first to report a safe flight across the Atlantic!” he told employees. No one dared to voluntarily invent the details of a feat that had not yet been completed, and then the editor-in-chief appointed Raven to this case, as the youngest.

“I need fifty live lines” - “Maybe we should wait for more specific news?” - the young employee tried to object. “To share profits with competitors and get only a few crumbs from what you could get? Yes, you just do not feel the situation, my dear! They won the victory over the whole ocean, so we can win our victory!” This is such a sad story. In fact, the crew of the "White Bird" was successful, the first to make a transatlantic flight, but because of the tragic thirst for glory, he died. And another vice of the human soul - greed - influenced the "Press", which led to general indignation and hatred. Which the "White Bird" did not deserve.

Across the English Channel

On July 25, 1909, French aviator Louis Blériot became the first person to fly across the English Channel and receive a £1,000 prize from the British Daily Mail. Blériot made a historic flight in a small monoplane with a 24 horsepower engine. He did not take a compass with him; a French journalist pointed out to him a safe place to land near Dover, who began to wave the French tricolor as soon as Blériot crossed the line of the British coast.

A week before, on July 19, 1909, Hubert Latham (England-France) attempted to fly across the English Channel, but was forced to splash down after only 11 km. A week later, he was preparing to try again, but he was beaten by Louis Blériot.

Just 10 years after Blériot's 49.8 km flight, English pilot John W. Alcock and navigator Arthur Whitten Brown (the son of Americans, born in Scotland), traveled 60 times longer and three times faster to complete the very first non-stop transatlantic flight. This time the prize offered by the Daily Mail has increased tenfold to £10,000. On June 14, 1919, Alcock and Brown took off from Newfoundland, Canada in a Vickers-Vimy biplane, and 16 hours and 27 minutes later made an emergency landing in a swamp near Clifden, Ireland, covering 3057 km to claim the prize.

Shortly thereafter, both participants in the flight were knighted, but Alcock, a test pilot for Vickers Aircraft, was rather indifferent to his achievement and said that the flight, which took place in bad weather, was "terrible." By the way, poor Alcock died in a plane crash in France the same year he flew across the Atlantic Ocean.

In 1919, the airship R-34 flew over the Atlantic

By the way, in 1919, the airship R-34 flew over the Atlantic, upon arrival in New York, one of the crew members had to parachute to help anchor the airship.

Another transatlantic goal was reached by American aviator Charles Lindbergh, who flew solo, received a $25,000 prize, and was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross and the Congressional Medal of Honor. On May 20, 1927, Lindbergh took off from New York in the now legendary Ryan monoplane, named the Spirit of St. Louis, and landed in Paris 33 hours and 39 minutes later, covering 5,792 km on a dead reckoning course.

On May 21, 1932, American Amelia Earhart landed in Londonderry and became the first woman to fly solo across the Atlantic Ocean.

Dmitry Demyanov, Samogo.Net (

The modern world is hard to imagine without transcontinental flights. For airlines, it's a multi-million dollar business that travels billions of people every year. Airlines are waging a ruthless war for each passenger, but behind the scenes an even more bitter war is waged between aircraft manufacturers. And it's not just about the colossal money; it is a matter of national prestige and superiority in technology, namely, aviation technologies are the locomotives of progress in the economy. It is difficult to imagine the modern world without transcontinental flights. For airlines, it's a multi-million dollar business that travels billions of people every year. Airlines are waging a ruthless war for each passenger, but behind the scenes an even more bitter war is waged between aircraft manufacturers. And it's not just about the colossal money; it is a matter of national prestige and superiority in technology, namely, aviation technologies are the locomotives of progress in the economy.

Our article is about transatlantic passenger flights and the people who made it possible.

The first successful transatlantic flight in world history was made by 25-year-old American pilot Charles Lindbergh on May 20-21, 1927, flying on the Spirit Of St. Louis" from New York, and landing in Paris 33.5 hours later, overcoming many difficulties, including fog, icing, flying over clouds at an altitude of more than 3000 m, flying at an altitude of several meters above water, etc. However, commercial passenger transportation did not begin until after World War II. The first European aircraft to be used for this purpose were British rebuilt bombers, which were not equipped with a pressurized cabin, flew slowly and were terribly noisy. By that time, the Lockheed Super Constellation passenger aircraft was already ready in the USA, and by the time the passenger line from America to Europe was opened, the airlines of the "old world", in the struggle for a few passengers, were forced to buy aircraft in America.

Another American aircraft for this purpose was the Boeing-377 Stratocruiser, the largest and most comfortable double-deck aircraft with four piston engines. The passengers of those years were wealthy businessmen and diplomats who expected a high level of service on board, and for this, the Stratocruiser had everything on board: well-trained flight attendants, first-class food and drinks, a bar on the lower deck. The flight on a piston aircraft lasted 14-16 hours, and the number of passengers grew at a rapid pace.

Great Britain at this time made significant progress in the creation of jet engines, and DeHavilland developed and built the world's first jet passenger aircraft, the Comet. An aircraft with four jet engines installed in pairs in the wing root and providing flights at unprecedented speed (about 800 km / h) at unusually high altitudes, promised a calm and fast air travel. On July 27, 1949, test pilot John Cunningham first took the revolutionary aircraft into the air. It was a real breakthrough in the field of civil aviation: the start of commercial operation of the new aircraft in 1952 was very successful. And, although the range of the Comet of the first series did not allow flights across the ocean, the future of the aircraft seemed cloudless. However, after two crashes of aircraft of this type in 1954, which revealed serious structural problems associated with fatigue failure of the metal, and due primarily to the lack of experience in creating jet passenger aircraft, the Comet program was on the verge of being closed.
On May 14, 1954, the new American Boeing-707 passenger aircraft was presented to the public, and on July 15 of the same year it made its first flight. The head of Boeing, Bill Ellen, invested $ 15 million of his own funds in the construction of the aircraft, therefore, no technical aspects should have called into question the reliability of the liner and its attractiveness to buyers. Boeing designers took into account the negative experience of building the Comet, making the skin thickness of their aircraft 4 times greater than that of the British ill-fated liner. In addition, our own experience in building the B-47 and B-52 bombers was used. It took four years to fine-tune the aircraft to serial production, when in October 1958 the first Pan American aircraft entered the passenger lines, and already on November 1 of the same year, the first flight of this type from New York to London was made. At the same time, DeHavilland presented to the public a redesigned version of its aircraft, the Comet4, which was already capable of making transatlantic flights. However, the capacity of the British airliner was almost half that of the American one, and the boom in traffic forced even British airlines to opt for the Boeing-707. Douglas designed its DC-8 aircraft in a similar layout to the B-707, but a number of design features made the Boeing aircraft more attractive to buyers.

The Soviet Union did not stand aside: on June 17, 1955, the first flight was made by the pride of domestic aviation, the jet Tu-104, which a year later, in September 1956, entered the regular lines, thereby ahead of the Boeing-707 in the successful start of commercial operation. However, the flight range of the Tu-104 (about 2700 km) did not allow flights across the ocean, so already on November 15, 1957, the Tu-114 long-range turboprop aircraft made its first flight. This record-breaking aircraft (the fastest turboprop, the largest aircraft of its time) delivered the Soviet delegation from Moscow to New York already in 1958, causing shock and excitement in America. The aircraft operated regular flights from Moscow to Havana from 1962 until it was replaced by the new Il-62 aircraft by the beginning of the 1970s.

On the American continent, meanwhile, air travel remained too expensive for ordinary people, but Boeing CEO Bill Ellen wanted to put a stop to it. In 1966, he launched the 747 project, which later became the landmark Jumbo - a flying double-deck elephant, the most recognizable and largest passenger aircraft for several decades. Revolutionary this time were the dimensions and weight of the aircraft - length 70.6 m, wingspan 59.5 m, the ability to accommodate up to 550 passengers. The company had to build a new plant to produce a new model, and the financial risks were so great that failure could ruin the entire corporation. Jack Quadell, the test pilot who took the plane off the air for the first time on February 9, 1969, when asked by journalists about his impressions of the flight, said: “I know it sounds ridiculous, but the plane is controlled easier than a breeze, this is a pilot's dream!”. After one year of intensive testing, the aircraft entered the line, and in 1970 made its first flight from New York to London. No major airline could afford not to buy a new aircraft. More than 200 copies were immediately ordered, and every 5 days a new liner left the factory. This aircraft has become extremely popular with both airlines and passengers. 40-50 aircraft were constantly in flight, crossing the Atlantic from West to East and back in 7 hours.

European manufacturers in the fight for "Atlantic" passengers went the other way: instead of size, they chose speed. British and French firms, together, began the development of the Concorde supersonic passenger aircraft in 1962. The project required new technological solutions, which brought the aircraft industry to the next stage in the development of aviation materials, aerodynamics, engines, flight and navigation equipment. The creation and operation of a supersonic passenger aircraft is associated with problems unusual for subsonic aviation: ensuring high speed (about 2200 km / h) and altitude (18-20 thousand m), combating kinetic heating of the aircraft skin (due to friction with air, the outer surface of the aircraft becomes hot up to 120 degrees Celsius), stability and controllability of the aircraft at subsonic speeds. When the Concorde prototype was ready (the first flight took place on March 2, 1969), the airlines expressed great interest in the project, however, the protracted refinement of the aircraft (beginning of commercial operation in January 1976) and a sharp increase in fuel prices in 1973 led to that the insanely expensive aircraft (about $ 2 billion was spent on the program) turned out to be too expensive for buyers, and the manufacturer sold 7 copies to British Airways and Air France for a symbolic price of 1 franc apiece. And, although the cost of tickets for a transatlantic flight reached several thousand dollars, "Concorde" was in demand among famous people of show business, politicians, businessmen, for whom a 3-hour flight across the ocean was at the same time emphasizing their prestige, entertainment and saving time.
In 1970, a new wide-body Douglas DC-10 aircraft was introduced to the world, capable of carrying up to 380 passengers over a distance of 6,000-10,000 km, however, it was in much less demand than the Boeing-747, including due to numerous technical problems. and a series of catastrophes with a large number of victims.
Europe, albeit belatedly, also began to develop large-capacity wide-body aircraft as part of the Airbus Industries consortium, formed in 1970 by four partner countries: France, Germany, Great Britain and Spain. The first joint product of the new enterprise was the successful A-300 aircraft (1972), and its shortened, long-haul deep modification A-310 (1982) The A-300 was the first wide-body aircraft with two engines, which made it possible to significantly increase the fuel efficiency of the aircraft .

In the future, competition for the long-range aircraft market was concentrated between the two largest world manufacturers - Boeing and Airbus, with their aircraft B-757, B-767, B-777, B-787 and A-330, A-340, A-380, A-350.

Gerhard Vysogan
RAScholefield Collection
Royal S. King
David O. Hill
Christoph Flink
Frank C. Duarte Jr
Barry Shopley

In the center of Rio de Janeiro, on the waterfront near the ultra-modern Museum of Tomorrow, there is a mock-up of the world's first 14-bis airplane or "Oiseau de proie" (in French, "bird of prey").
Today, Brazil occupies one of the world's leading positions in the field of aircraft construction. The Brazilian Embraer (E-Jet) is the world leader in the medium-haul (regional) aircraft market.
Thanks to the dominance of the American media in the world, there was a conviction about the priority of the Wright brothers, who made the first airplane flight. In Brazil and France, undeniable primacy is given to a native of Brazil, holder of the Order of the Legion of Honor, aeronaut, pilot and inventor Albert Santos-Dumont(1873 - 1932), who lived for some time in France. The Brazilian was the first in the world to prove the possibility of regular, controlled flights. Santos-Dumont made a public airplane flight in Paris on October 23, 1906. It was the first heavier-than-air vehicle to take off, fly, and land that, unlike the Wright brothers, did not use catapults, strong winds, launch rails, or other external devices. The inventor was against the use of aircraft for military purposes.

***
The first transatlantic direct flight was made from the island of Newfoundland (Canada) to Ireland by British pilots John Alcon and Arthur Brown on June 14-15, 1919 in 16 hours 28 minutes at an average speed of 190 km per hour. The effect of a jet air current in the Northern Hemisphere from west to east was used. In the opposite direction, it would have taken more time, and there were no aircraft with the corresponding resource then. The first direct 36-hour flight across the Atlantic from Europe (Dublin) to North America took place only a decade later in April 1928.

***
Today, flying across the Atlantic to South America is an everyday affair and requires only patience (up to 14 hours of flight from Paris to Santiago). I first saw the monument to the first aircraft (seaplane) and the crew that flew from Europe to South America many years ago in Lisbon.

Portuguese pilots Gago Coutinho and Sacadura Cabral made the first dramatic flight from Lisbon to Rio de Janeiro on an English-made Fairey 17 hydroplane, dedicated to the centenary of Brazilian independence. Aircraft of this type were produced from 1918 to 1941, and took an active part in World War II.

During the flight to South America, a new artificial horizon device was tested, which makes it possible to control the position of the aircraft out of sight of the earth or the surface of the sea.

On March 30, 1922, the pilots took off from the Lisbon naval base and reached the Canary Islands (Las Palmas) late in the evening for refueling. On April 5, another throw was made to the Cape Verde Islands (San Vicente), where engine repairs were required. On April 17, the pilots continued on their way to the rocky uninhabited island of Sao Paulo (St. Peter and Paul). Here, during splashdown in rough seas, the airplane lost one of its floats and sank. The aviators were rescued by the Portuguese cruiser República, which took part in supporting the flight. The cruiser delivered the pilots to the port of the Brazilian island of Fernando de Noronha.

But the epic didn't end there. Enthusiastic Brazilians and Portuguese watching the flight forced the government in Lisbon to poison another seaplane for the aviators.

The new plane was delivered to the island and on May 11 the pilots flew ... in the opposite direction to the island of Sao Paulo to resume the flight from the crash site. However, an engine failure forced them to again make an emergency landing in the ocean. The seaplane again successfully sank, and the pilots were picked up by a British cargo steamer and brought back to Fernando de Noronha.

But this time, with the support of the Brazilian government, the brave aviators receive a third plane, on which they were able to complete the flight with landings in Recife, Salvador da Bahia and Vitoria. Finally, on June 17, the flight was completed in Rio de Janeiro, where the seaplane landed in Guanabara Bay. Brazil welcomed the aviators like heroes, and aviation pioneer Alberto Santos-Dumont delivered a welcoming speech at a rally on the waterfront. The journey lasted 79 days, of which the actual flight time was 62 hours and 26 minutes. The aviators covered a distance of 8,383 kilometers (5,209 miles) by air.

Flight map

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In 1930 a French pilot Jean Mermoz He made the first non-stop flight across the South Atlantic. From French Toulouse, he flew to the African port of Saint Louis (Senegal), located on the Atlantic coast. From here, with 130 kg of mail on a converted aircraft, in 21 hours he completed a transatlantic flight to Rio de Janeiro. In 1936, the pilot with the plane disappeared on another flight over the South Atlantic.

***
Over time, regular passenger flights from Europe to South America began. On July 10, 1962, regular transatlantic flights of the Soviet Aeroflot began to Latin America to Cuba along the route Moscow - Conakry (technical landing) - Havana, and then across the North Pole with an intermediate landing in Murmansk. The specially modernized Tu-114 could accommodate only 60 passengers, but had a large supply of fuel. The flight took over 20 hours.

May 27, 1973 began regular flights to Peru and Chile on the route Moscow - Rabat - Havana - Lima (Peru) - Santiago (Chile). For that time it was the world's longest passenger airline (18,000 km), travel time - 23 hours. Today, they fly from Moscow to South America with connecting flights via Paris, Amsterdam, Istanbul and other aviation hubs.

***
On the air route between Europe and South America on June 1, 2009, one of the largest aviation accidents occurred. The Airbus A330-203 airliner of Air France operated flight AF447 on the route Rio de Janeiro - Paris, but 3 hours and 45 minutes after takeoff, it crashed into the waters of the Atlantic Ocean and completely collapsed. All 228 people on board (12 crew members and 216 passengers) were killed. This is the largest crash in the history of Air France and the largest crash of a passenger aircraft since 2001 until the Boeing 777 crash in the Donetsk region (July 17, 2014, 298 deaths).

As the causes of the disaster, freezing of the pitot tubes, the subsequent shutdown of the autopilot and uncoordinated actions of the crew, which led to the stall of the aircraft, from which the crew could not get out, are indicated. Inconsistency of actions, poor preparation and panic of the crew (co-pilot and trainee who were in the cockpit during the rest of the commander). The called commander made the right decision and at an altitude of about 600 meters the plane began to pick up speed, but it was not possible to stop the stall in time. Experts point to shortcomings in the design of modern aircraft and in the training of crews. Computer systems control the aircraft for the vast majority of the flight time, deprive pilots of the experience of direct piloting and reduce their readiness for emergency situations.

Today, passengers of huge Boeings cross the Atlantic, almost without thinking that they are flying over this particular ocean, and not over any other. At an altitude of twelve thousand meters, the sea space is nameless, barely distinguishable. Movies that passengers watch on board the aircraft take them to another place. There is no more space, there is only flight time. This loss of reality will become even stronger on a supersonic aircraft without windows.

However, pilots and navigators are always aware that they are flying over the Atlantic Ocean. The Atlantic, with its jet streams (air transport at high altitude), with its special state of the atmosphere, affects even automatic aerobatic instruments. And it was this airy Atlantic Ocean with all its originality that people who made the first flights had to overcome.

IN THREE DAYS VIA THE ATLANTIC

THE TRIUMPH OF THE FLYING MACHINE

MONK MASON

Such a sensational headline appeared on April 13, 1844, on the front page of the New York Sun. It was further reported: “Messrs. Mason, Robert, Holland, Hensen, Ainsworth and four other people arrived on Sullivan Island near Charleston (South Carolina) on a controlled Victoria balloon. The flight from one country to another lasted 75 hours.” Then came the "full description of the journey." It was also reported that the English heroes set out on the 6th April and arrived on the 9th. They were the first people to make a successful attempt to cross the Atlantic Ocean by air. However, their names and their feat were not included in encyclopedias. The reason for this is simple: the New York Sun report was a joke, and its author, a master of fiction, was named Edgar Allan Poe. The newspaper had to admit it and publish a refutation.

On May 28, 1919, that is, eighty-five years later, the newspapers reported: "THROUGH THE ATLANTIC IN 11 DAYS (25 FLYING HOURS) THE TRIUMPH OF THE FOUR-ENGINE CURTISS HYDROAEROPLANE." It went on to say: "Lt. Cpt. Reid, Lieutenants Stone and Hinton, Second Lieutenant Rodd, Flight Engineer Rhodes, and Reserve Pilot Breeze, departing from St. This time there was no need to refute the messages. Reed and his crew really existed. First in Lisbon, then in London, they were given a noisy ovation as representatives of the American Admiralty, which had carefully prepared this flight.

Lord Northcliffe, the wealthiest owner of The Times and the Daily Mail, promised £10,000 to the first aviator to fly over the Atlantic in either direction "without landing and in less than 72 hours."

Two demobilized English pilots decided to try their luck: John Alcock, twenty-eight years old, a former pilot with the rank of captain, a jovial fellow and a ringleader, and Arthur Whitten Brown, thirty-four years old, a former navigator with the rank of lieutenant, shy, slightly limping, since in 1915 was shot down by his plane. On June 14, 1919, they both took off from Newfoundland. Due to the direction of the prevailing winds, flying from west to east was considered much easier.

Less than an hour after departure, the radio went out of order. The sky was covered with clouds, the fog hid the waves of the Atlantic from view. I had to fly blind. Because of the air whirlwinds, a chatter began. Ham sandwiches, chocolate chip cookies and a bottle of beer lift the aviators' spirits somewhat. But when the speedometer fails, when the airplane loses altitude and the sea waves are six meters away, the spirit also drops. Alcock levels the car, but then sparks suddenly burst from the knee of the exhaust pipe of the right engine. All that remained was to pray to God that this firework of droplets of molten metal would not burn through the stabilizers.

It became very cold in the air, wings, braces, fuselage and partially motors were covered with frost. Steering wheels were bad. A few more minutes and they would stall, then free fall.

“There is only one way out,” Brown called to the pilot.

“Are you saying we need to clear the ice?”

– Yes, I will.

No, it's too risky.

Without answering, Brown climbed out of the cab. Penknife in hand, he advanced along the lower right wing. His shoes were slippery, his stiff feet didn't work well. Finally, the suction pipes, Brown uses a knife. The ice falls off in plates, the gasoline indicator is released, the air filters are open. It was necessary to return to the cockpit, and then take the same journey along the left wing. And this whole double operation will be repeated five times.

“Acrobatics never tempted me,” Brown would later say. - And this performance over the Atlantic Ocean at an altitude of 2600 m at a speed of 160 km per hour and even without the approval of the audience seemed to me completely uninteresting.

By six o'clock on the morning of June 15, Alcock risked a slight decline. The ice thawed, the fog dissipated. Soon they saw land. It was Ireland. Alcock had to go around the top of Connemara, then the town of Clifden, where no landing could be found, and finally descend to a green field that seemed very suitable from a height. In fact, it was a swamp, so that the first plane to fly over the Atlantic without landing, buried its nose in the ground. But that didn't matter anymore. With a result of 16 hours and 12 minutes, Alcock and Brown received ten thousand pounds sterling from Lord Northcliffe. The Minister of Defense and Aviation presented the heroes with a check for this amount. The minister's name was Winston Churchill.

King George V granted nobility to the winners. Sir John Alcock managed to use the title and money for only a few weeks. In December 1919, while delivering a new Vickers apparatus, he crashed into a tree near the Seine.

Sir Arthur Whitten Brown, whose shyness took on a shade of melancholy over time, lived in the future completely unnoticed and in 1946 died just as quietly.

Although at the London airport the stone faces of Alcock and Brown look thoughtfully at the continuous flow of passengers who arrive there in five hours from New York and will soon be crossing the Atlantic in two and a half hours, they cannot be found in French dictionaries of names.

Who was the first to cross the Atlantic Ocean from west to east?

Out of a hundred people who will be asked this question, at least ninety will answer: Lindbergh. Lindbergh got all the credit for various reasons, two of which are quite obvious: he flew alone and directly from New York to Paris.

Even before Alcock and Brown had made their flight, a letter arrived at the American Flying Club marked May 22, 1919. “Gentlemen, to encourage the courage of aviators, I would like to offer, in accordance with the rules, through the Aero Club of America, a reward of $ 25,000 to the first pilot of any of the allied countries who makes a non-stop flight from Paris to New York or vice versa. For further information always at your disposal. Sincerely yours, Raymond Ortega."

Journalists didn't have to look for the signatory. He was a short man with a mustache, of medium height, with regular features and courteous manner. From his words they learned that he was a French Basque, that as a child he was a shepherd, and in his youth the hope of getting rich led him to New York. The Breeworth Hotel took him on probation as a waiter. A few years later, Ortega becomes its owner, and in 1919 acquires another hotel, Lafayette.

The first records of contenders for the Ortega prize began to enter the Aeroclub only at the beginning of 1925, mostly French. In 1927, a newspaper article reported on the listing of an unknown American named Lindenberg.

In fact, he was Lindbergh, Charles Augustus, son of the Minister of Justice, Scandinavian by birth. His family moved frequently and Charles moved from school to school without shining in any of them. He is only interested in aviation. He first saw an airplane in Washington when he was ten years old. At that time, spectacles were held all over the United States, where they showed aerobatics and lifted those who wished into the air. On April 1, 1922, Charles Lindbergh, already accepted at the Wisconsin Engineering School, enters the flight school of the Nebraska Aviation Joint Stock Company and then becomes an aerial acrobat. He walks along the wing of a flying airplane, jumps with a parachute, performs dead loops, corkscrews, dives over a crowd of spectators. He was born in Detroit, but chose the city of St. Louis in Missouri as his place of residence, where he began his career as an air ace and where he develops strong friendships. His first personal airplane was an obsolete Jenny obtained from military depots. Experience gained in elementary flying school qualified him to become a zip line pilot between St. Louis and Chicago. A year later, Charles Lindbergh writes a letter announcing his candidacy for the Ortega Prize.

Friends in St. Louis lend him $10,715,000, and he seeks an appointment with Charles A. Levin, chairman of the board of directors of the Columbia Aviation Corporation.

– I would like to buy a car from you to fly from New York to Paris.

The powerful administrator looked sympathetically at this ungainly stranger, who was twenty-six years old but appeared to be five years younger.

“We cannot allow any aviator to fly our airplane over the ocean. It concerns the reputation of the firm.

After being refused, Charles Lindbergh tried to talk to various designers, but achieved nothing. Everyone considered his intention reckless. After all, this guy was going to fly alone in a single-engine airplane.

- Why single-engine?

“With two motors, the possibility of an accident doubles. Three times with three. I want to fly alone so I can take more gas with me. The flight will last forty hours.

“You can't go for forty hours without sleep.

- I already did it.

Finally, the Ryan Company of San Diego, California, agreed to sell Charles Lindbergh a single-engine, 220 hp airplane for $10,000. with., made of wood and canvas, with a wingspan of 11.3 m. At any modern airport, this car would look just ridiculous next to the liners. Lindbergh had long mentally dubbed her "The Soul of St. Louis."

“You will receive it in two months,” the designer told him.

Several pilots have already been preparing to win the Ortega prize. Lindbergh spent many hours every day with the workers and technicians building his car. On April 26, he could already test it. She was fast and comfortable, only she lacked a little stability. In the following days, this shortcoming was eliminated.

- On May 8, I fly to St. Louis, and then from St. Louis to New York, this will be a real test flight for me.

On May 8, American newspapers reported that two Frenchmen, Nengesser and Coly, had flown from Paris to New York. On May 9 there was no news from them, and on May 10 their disappearance was confirmed. Nengesser was a famous World War I ace who shot down 45 enemy planes. His disappearance, along with Kolya on the White Bird, was all the more traumatizing for the French public because on the evening of May 9, 1927, a Parisian newspaper published a special issue reporting the solemn arrival of two aviators with exciting details: “After landing on the water, Nengesser and Kolya remained motionless in the car, as if not perceiving the cheers. Then they both got up from their seats. They were followed by a motorboat, etc.” Officially confirming the message, a special airplane launched rockets into the sky of Paris. Then, after several hours of silence, a telegram posted in the lobbies of newspaper offices: "There is no official confirmation of the arrival of Nengesser and Kolya." An angry mob hurled stones and burned the deceitful special issue in the streets. The circumstances of the death of the pilots will remain forever unknown.

On May 10, Lindbergh flew from San Diego to St. Louis and from there on May 11 to New York. Journalists were waiting for him at Curtiss Field, and this time they spelled Lindbergh's name correctly in their reports, as the Soul of St. Louis broke the speed record on a transcontinental flight from St. Louis to New York.

However, this did not stop the New York newspapers from calling Lindbergh when it became officially known about his intention to fly from New York to Paris alone and about his departure as a "flying fool". The English word "fool" may have an endearing connotation, but still, in the exact translation, it means "flying fool."

On May 20, the same newspapers printed a few lines in small print about an eccentric "flight to Paris." The big headlines were for the boxing match that day, which was to decide which of the two, Sharkey or Maloney, would face off against champion Jack Dempsey.

Lindbergh took off from New York at 07:52 local time. At 8:30 p.m., a report was received that he had passed St. John's in Newfoundland. The news was also heard on the radio at Yankee Stadium, where the boxing match was ending at that time. Forgetting about the winner, everyone, at the invitation of the announcer, rose from their seats for collective prayer. After all, the young American defended "in the icy loneliness of the night and the sea the honor of the starry flag."

The next day, the word "fool" disappeared from almost all headlines. Some newspapers called Lindbergh a "flying eagle".

Departure for the "boy from the West" was not easy. On the evening of May 16, the path to the ocean was blocked by a storm that broke out there. On May 19, due to rain and drizzle, even the tops of skyscrapers were not visible. Before going to the theater with one of his friends, Lindbergh called the weather station for the sixth time. Answer: "It's starting to clear up, but it's better to wait a day or two."

- I leave at dawn.

Lindbergh tries to sleep for a few hours in his room. The darkest predictions of his detractors run through his head: with a full supply of fuel, his car will weigh 2.5 tons, too much to take to the air with a 220 horsepower engine; the pilot gets lost in the fog; sleep will overcome him and he will break. He never fell asleep for a second when there was a knock on his door in the morning. The street was still foggy.

The Soul of St. Louis has already been delivered to Roosevelt Airfield. She looked tiny and frail, her wings fluttering in the wind. Those present were silent, but on all the faces turned to the "flying fool", who was not yet twenty-six, one thought was expressed: "Step back or wait at least for better weather."

Lindbergh got into the car. The cockpit was well closed, but because of the tanks, which made it possible to take a large supply of fuel, the pilot could not see anything in front of him and could only look out the side windows. Lindbergh started the engine, then signaled to the mechanics, who were to remove the wedges. The car rolled hard through the puddles. Lindbergh managed to get off the ground only at the very end of the runway.

Aviation historians wrote that this flight was uneventful. Indeed, nothing serious happened, except for the fact that for the first time in many millions of years of the existence of the Atlantic Ocean, a man was alone above this blue-green foamy expanse. Lindbergh couldn't help but think of Nengesser and Kolya, lost in that deep water. He knew that his worst enemy would be sleep, and to refresh his face, he opened one of the windows. The whirlwind that rushed in almost took his map away. A minor incident, but it could end everything.

An experienced navigator, Lindbergh flew a great circle, the shortest path on the globe from one point to another. At that time, almost all ships followed the loxodrome line, a curve that intersects the earth's meridians at one angle, which made it possible not to change course. That is why the waters under the wing of the airplane were completely deserted. However, after Newfoundland the picture changed. Lindbergh could make out on the dark surface of the sea numerous white ships of an unusual appearance: icebergs.

From time to time, by the behavior of the machine, the aviator felt that it was getting heavier. Ice crust. He descended, trying to get into the warmer layers of the air, sometimes over the very sea. But then the treacherous dream fell upon him with all its force and he had to rise again.

The whole day was foggy and gray, then a dreary twilight stretched, and finally night descended. The engine ran smoothly, not straying from successive courses accurately calculated by a good navigator. But the dream did not unclench its treacherous embrace at night. On the contrary, there were moments when Lindbergh had to hold his eyelids with his fingers to keep them from closing. By the beginning of the next day, 3500 km were left behind, a little more than half the way. Thanks to a tailwind, the second half took him less time. Keeping at a fairly low altitude, Lindbergh saw a dolphin - the first living creature since departure, then a flotilla of fishing boats. He went down almost to the water's edge. There was no one to be seen on the decks. Noticing a face in one porthole, he recklessly opened the window and shouted: “Which way is Ireland?” Of course, no one could hear him. When, towards the end of the day, Lindbergh noticed a dark streak on the horizon, he muttered: "Clouds again." But his heart began to beat, because he knew that it could be the earth. "If my calculations are correct." They were true. It turned out to be land. Ireland. From here everything went easy, only once, when the engine began to sneeze, he thought that gasoline had stopped flowing, but then everything was fine again. Lindbergh recognized Plymouth, flew a little more over the sea, and again saw the dark lane with the lights of the lighthouses: France.

The young American was afraid that the French would not take him too coldly because of the failure of Nengesser and Kolya. He had a small notebook where he wrote down everything that “needed to be done” after landing: ask the airport management for a hangar for his car; try to call one of the embassies, etc. At the end of this list are a few words that testify to the incredible modesty of the "flying fool": "Find a not very expensive hotel." Lindbergh was completely unaware that at the moment when the "Soul of St. Louis" appeared over the mouth of the Seine, a huge and already frenzied crowd rushed to the Bourges airfield. French radio reported about his departure, and then about the flight over Ireland and Plymouth.

Lindbergh landed at 22:22 Paris time - in New York it was 17:22. At least such a time was recorded in the protocol at the suggestion of the Belgian aviation attache, Willy Coppens Houtthulst. Other "officials" forgot to look at their watches, they were so excited. General excitement emerges from the very first line of this protocol: “May 20-21, 1927. Paris-New York" (sic). Instead of New York-Paris.

Out of a crowd of 100,000 Parisians, many managed to break through or bypass the police barriers. The airfield was crowded with men and women in evening dress, workers in overalls, hastily dressed people apparently dragged out of their beds by their well-informed neighbors, photographers trying to protect their cameras, girls waving bouquets of flowers. Even the mayors of the northern suburbs, tied with their tricolor scarf, could be seen in the crowd.

When the airplane appeared, everyone took off, hats flew into the air, trampled on there and then by the running crowd. Women fought their way through with handbags. As soon as Lindbergh landed the car, he had to hastily stop the propeller, otherwise he could hurt his head and hands.

Charles Augustus Lindbergh received $25,000 Ortega by establishing the first air connection across the Atlantic between New York and Paris. He was young, good-looking, handsome, he went out alone into danger. And the next day, Lindbergh became an idol. The French government awarded him the Legion of Honor, the Americans awarded him the rank of colonel in the air force. He received seventeen orders and distinctions from different countries, and the secretariat, hastily created by the American Embassy, ​​sorted out the mail into three million letters and three hundred thousand telegrams. Direct air communication between the two capitals (New York in essence plays the role of the capital) opened a new era for aviation.

It would take a whole book to resurrect in the memory of all those who conquered the air ocean of the Atlantic, and all those who died in this attempt and took the secret of their death into the depths of the sea. The crew that made the first flight from east to west consisted of three people, among them one was terminally ill with cancer and knew that he would soon die. His name was Gunther von Hunefeld, he wore a monocle, was very rich and financed the entire expedition. He was accompanied by two navigator pilots, Captain Koehl, who headed the night flight service in the German company Lufthansa, and the Irishman James Fitzmaurice. Their single-engine 350 horsepower Junkers, which took off on April 12, 1928 from the Irish city of Bladonnel, landed on the next day, Friday, April 13, on Greenley Island near Labrador. Their takeoff was difficult, but on the way everything went off without much interference. James Fitzmaurice, who became the "Hero of Ireland", received an honorary award from the President of the Republic of Ireland. Baron von Hunefeld soon died in a German hospital where he was being operated on, trying to do his best.

On June 16, 1929, word spread that three Frenchmen had flown across the North Atlantic from Stary Sad near Boston in a Berker monoplane powered by a Hispano-Suiza. After two forced landings, in Spain and in Mimizan (Landes), they landed in Bourges. If they failed to make a non-stop flight from Boston to Paris, then the reason for the failure was a secret passenger, whose weight increased gas mileage. The plane that took off clandestinely from France, where it had been denied permission to fly across the Atlantic, was called the Canary and was painted to match that name. The names of the three heroes of the day are Assolan, Lefevre, Lottie.

Less than a month after the landing of the Canary, it was reported that on July 13, at 9:30 am, two French aviators, Coast and Bellonte, flew from Bourges to New York in a Breguet airplane with a Hispano-Suiza engine, called " Question mark". In the first messages from an airplane flying over the ocean, almost the same thing was repeated: "Everything is going well." Then at 18 hours 15 minutes: "We return to Bourges."

The Question Mark met with winds so strong that, with the remaining amount of gasoline, they would not have reached New York.

“I want to make our flight in the best conditions,” Coast said upon his return to Bourges, “so I need a good weather report. We must wait for favorable weather.

Everyone knew that he was right. In France, they could not help but think about the death of Nengesser and Kolya, and Cost was trustworthy.

Thirty-eight years old, native of Montalbán. During the First World War, he fought brilliantly in aviation units. And most importantly, in the fall of 1927, he, along with Lieutenant Commander Lebri, made a non-stop flight across the South Atlantic from Senegal to Brazil, taking off from Saint-Louis and landing in Natal in an airplane that was boldly called, contrary to superstition, "Nengesser and Coly."

After the first unsuccessful attempt to fly across the North Atlantic, Coast changes the engine in the "Question Mark": 780 horsepower, 5200 liters of gasoline, a flight range of 9000 km, that is, almost twice as much as the distance from Paris to New York. Twice a day, a careful pilot makes inquiries at the weather station. On August 31, 1930, he sends the "Question Mark" to Bourges. Favorable weather in the Atlantic, cloudy in France. Coast and Bellont took off on 1 September at dawn.

Radio communication with Paris is maintained continuously through the ships that served as an intermediate station. Early on the morning of September 2, it was reported that the Question Mark had flown southeast of Newfoundland, then south of St. Pierre and Miquelon. At 12.30 his call signs suddenly stopped. Radio contact has been lost. In France, they try to reassure themselves with reports from American coast stations that they have seen the "Question Mark". However, all the messages are unclear and contradictory, and again the ghost of the "White Bird" begins to inspire anxiety. Finally, a red airplane was spotted 250 km from New York. This time there could be no mistake. He is accompanied by seven American airplanes.

In Paris, a huge crowd gathered at the Place de la Concorde. At 8:30 p.m., the loudspeakers announced: "A direct telephone connection will now be established with the Curtiss airfield." Such news was unheard of at the time. An amazing silence reigned in the square, everyone heard the noise of the American airfield coming through the loudspeaker. Suddenly, the hum of engines, shouts, and cheers were clearly heard. Then the voice of Costa and the voice of Bellonte - words addressed to their compatriots at a distance of 5000 km. Then the Marseillaise, taken up by hundreds of votes at the Curtiss airfield and by thousands at the Place de la Concorde.

In 1927, Lindbergh's fame brought aviation enthusiasm to its highest peak in the United States. A wealthy American woman, the wife of an Englishman who held a high position in the British Air Ministry, wanted by all means to be the first woman to fly across the Atlantic. Without saying anything to her fellows, Mrs. Guest bought a three-engine Fokker, hired a pilot and a mechanic, and began preparations. When her family found out about this, the opposition was so great that Mrs. Guest abandoned her venture.

“But only,” she said, “on the condition that my Fokker still flies across the ocean, and that there is an American woman on board. I'll talk to Putman about it.

George Palmer Putman was the publisher. He persuaded Lindbergh to write his "notes" and also prepared a contract for Mrs. Guest, "the first woman to face the Atlantic." When she asked to find a replacement for her, a thought struck him.

- I had dinner with my friends with one girl who is passionate about flying, and she is like two peas in a pod like Lindbergh.

Tall and thin, with short cropped hair and blue-gray eyes, Amelia Earhart did indeed bear a striking resemblance to the hero of the New York-Paris flight. She was born in Kansas on July 24, 1898. In 1917, a volunteer nurse, she began a preparatory medical course in New York, but then dropped out to work in the welfare system. Like Lindbergh, Amelia was very fond of aerial performances. Just like him, at first a simple spectator, she then becomes a performer. She was twenty-three years old when she took to the air for the first time on her own, and a year later she already set a women's altitude record of over 4600 m.

Amelia Earhart agreed with great joy to fly across the ocean in a Fokker and, without reading, signed all the advertising contracts that George Putman offered her. When Amelia realized that she would not be a pilot at all, but simply let herself be carried, she was furious, but it was too late to refuse. Mrs. Guest's airplane, piloted by Stoltz and also carrying flight engineer Gordon and passenger Amelia Earhart, took off in Newfoundland, safely flew across the ocean, and landed at Bury on June 18, 1928.

“I was just being carried around like a sack of potatoes,” Amelia said.

However, the whole world, forgetting about the pilot, was busy with only one passenger. Radio, cinema, newspapers promised her mountains of gold.

Amelia first of all had to fulfill Putman's contracts. Having settled in the publisher's house, she wrote a story about "her flight" - "Twenty hours and forty minutes", dedicating it to Putman's wife. She did not yet know that her husband was filing a divorce with the intention of marrying her, Amelia.

Amelia agreed to this marriage, which some considered fictitious. The conditions were as follows: Amelia continues to fly, and her husband helps her in this. At the time, George Palmer Putman took on the role of his wife's impresario. Very light suitcases for air passengers are issued with the label "Amelia Earhart". Vignettes for cigarette stamps depicting the famous pilot (everyone knows that she does not smoke) with a cigarette in her mouth, in sportswear, are signed by her hand. However, Amelia wants to prove that she is not only an advertising diva, and she sets a new altitude record for women - 6000 m. On May 20, 1932, she takes off alone - finally alone - from Newfoundland on a red Lockheed Vega monoplane and heads for Europe.

The flight was a big challenge. When the icy crust on her wings got too heavy, Amelia swooped down, almost brushing against the foamy wave crests. The hardest part was keeping my balance. “It seemed to me that I was inside a drum where water was poured, and that I was fighting with elephants there.” Before, she almost never flew at night, so she is frightened by the flames from the exhaust pipe, which faded only with the dawn. “The coming day only increased my fears. I was happy to see that the ocean turned pink, then blue, but the pale dawn squeezed my heart. And then I found a leak of gasoline, it rolled in a trickle on the surface of the wing, not far from the exhaust pipe. I no longer saw the fire near it, but I knew well that it was there, and I asked myself how it would all end ... ”It ended with Ireland. Due to the lack of gasoline, the real goal - Paris - was out of reach for Lockheed.

“Suddenly I noticed a field. And almost all over the field of cows. I began to circle over him, back and forth, up and down. Frightened cows shied from side to side. My God, I thought, now one of them will break her leg, and when I land, the farmer will go for a gun!

The airplane finally sat down, the cows stopped running around the field, and the farmer limited himself to the question:

- Where are you from?

- From America.

He walked away with a shrug. The other farmers showed more curiosity, and the two spinsters, although shocked by the awkward attire of the foreign woman wearing breeches, nevertheless showed her hospitality, offering her the traditional nice cup of tea.

A telegram that Amelia managed to send that day to the New York Times, which financed the flight, had no effect until the next day. The meadow with cows turned into a real airport, air squadrons delivered there special correspondents of all English newspapers. And that was just the beginning. In Paris, the new celebrity was taken from one banquet to another. Lanvin offered her the most beautiful evening dresses, the senate arranged a solemn meeting. The only thing she seemed to lack, as well as Alcock and Brown, was the recognition of the French Encyclopedic Dictionary Grande Larousse.

In Washington, President Hoover invited Amelia Earhart to dinner at the White House, and for the first time in the history of the United States, the Distinguished Pilot's Cross adorned a woman's chest.

Amelia was already thinking of another ocean, the one where she was destined to die.

- My concern is mail. I am a postal worker. Flying across the Atlantic can no longer be just a sporting achievement. We have to deliver letters.

The person who said this was a French pilot already famous in Brazil: Jean Mermoz. A brilliant pilot of the last war, then an airline pilot at Latecoer, Mermoz, together with Guillaume, is laying the Rio de Janeiro-Santiago (Chile) air line through the formidable ridge of the Andes. Having suffered an accident in these harsh mountains, he saves himself at the cost of superhuman endurance and courage. In the last years of his life he was the organizer of postal airlines in South America. Like many others, Mermoz once dreamed of a Paris-New York flight, but was never able to get the necessary aircraft. And here is the mail.

- Now we need to provide a weekly postal connection between Senegal and Brazil.

On May 12, 1930, he takes off from Saint-Louis in Senegal on the seaplane Lathe-28 "Comte de la Vaux", together with navigator Dabri and radio operator Gimier. On the way, they met with a giant thundercloud up to 5000 m high - a black, lightning-pierced mass that stood in front of them like a rocky abyss.

“A seaplane has never been this high,” Mermoz said. - I decided to go around the obstacle from below.

They flew through this black barrier almost at the very water, made their way through the dense darkness pierced by lightning and water tornadoes. It was a battle not only with the air, but also with the sea. Stripped to the waist, the aviators listened anxiously to the interruptions of the engine, which now and then overflowed with water. The ocean below them was blacker than night.

Mermoz finally managed to get out from under this formidable wall without touching it at all. They flew now in the moonlight over the silver expanse of water. 3173 km were covered in 21 hours. The distance record for a seaplane was broken. And bags of letters crossed the South Atlantic.

“Mail should go across the ocean back and forth.

About a month later, Mermoz prepared Late-28 for the return trip. A heavily loaded seaplane could not take off from an unfavorably oriented water surface - it was the Potinga River. Sixteen attempts were made that day and twelve the next. Mermoz reduced the load and moved the car to another, differently located take-off site 50 km from Natal. The wind had changed by then, so the car was again facing the wrong way. Only after the fifty-second attempt did Mermoz finally manage to break away from the water.

- The mail will be delivered.

The South Atlantic is restless, with torrents of rain pouring down on it from above, but all this no longer reaches the furious force that threatened them last time. The radio operator now keeps in touch with the ships. Halfway through, traces of oily drops appear on the windshield.

It's from too much oil.

But it was a leak. At 500 km from Dakar, the needle of the instrument for measuring the oil level was at zero, the engine was incredibly warm. Mermoz was forced to land the car near the Fose, which was on its way. Because of the rough seas, the transfer to the ship was long and dangerous. Huge waves overturned the seaplane, and he soon drowned.

The mail was delivered, but now it became clear that there was no point in sending a car on such a dangerous journey.

“Experience has shown,” Mermoz said, “that a seaplane is just as vulnerable in rough seas as a simple plane. And since a simple plane takes off easier with an equal load, this is the kind of aircraft we should use.

In 1933, the wooden three-engine aircraft "Rainbow" created by the thirty-year-old engineer René Cousine, along with the seaplane "Southern Cross", was determined for the postal service. During 1934 and 1935, these two machines made 47 flights. It was already not only the conquest of the South Atlantic, but also commercial flights.

Mermoz, who had become Air France's chief inspector, could at times be tempted to take the helm of one of the mail planes. On December 7, 1936, he flew to Brazil in the Southern Cross seaplane. Such flights have now become commonplace. Halfway through, a short message was received from the seaplane: "Turning off the rear right engine." This is where everything broke down. Forever. In vain searched the ships and planes of the ocean. The first and last time the mail was not delivered.

In 1928, in Wellington, New Zealand, a frail girl of nineteen was learning piano exercises in her living room. Suddenly she got up and slammed the lid of the piano.

- I'm not making any progress. And I will never achieve anything if I do not go to study in London. There and only there you can find real teachers.

Mr. Batten, a wealthy man, could not refuse anything to his daughter and wanted to see her as a great artist. Despite the bitterness of separation, he agreed to the departure of Jean and for three years sent her money to pay for music lessons. And she was passionately fascinated by aviation. Father's money went to pay for aerobatics lessons. Jean even bought a small tourist plane.

“I will return home only by plane,” she told her friends. - My flight England - New Zealand, won't it make a fuss? But I have no money, and I'm looking for a patron.

In 1934, she met with Lord Wakefield and subdued him, as she subdued her father before. He financed the flight. Jean Batten left England in May and arrived at the port of Darwin 14 days and 22 hours later. Australian newspapers made a star out of her: "Our beautiful Jean in a fight with continents and oceans." Jean returned to England and bought herself a 220 horsepower Mouette Percival.

I want to fly non-stop across the South Atlantic.

She was then twenty-five years old. For several months, she conscientiously prepared for the flight. At six o'clock on the morning of November 11, 1935, Jean took off from England, flew over France and Spain, and landed in Casablanca, where she allowed herself a few hours of rest, then went on to Saint-Louis. “The weather there was disgusting. The French military received me very cordially.” They surrounded the young pilot, who looked even younger than her years: "Looks like a child."

- Let's not waste time. I'm leaving in two hours.

Now, in the middle of the night? But this is madness!

- No madness. Change candles and oil and I'm flying.

The takeoff was not easy. The small plane, with difficulty tearing itself away from the puddle-covered runway, circled, as if in indecision, over the very tops of the trees, and then quickly turned towards the sea.

“And then I got scared. After all, I always imagined that I would fly out into a wonderful starry night. I even thought that the Southern Cross was shaped like a cross.” The night was far from wonderful, there was not a single star in the sky, and rain overtook it a few cables from the shore. A black cloud was approaching, the rain was intensifying, and the compass needle was rushing wildly from lightning discharges. After the storm there was a calm, and an hour later another storm. Only Jean's small hands, and the indomitable will of her youth, kept the car amidst the raging elements. 13 hours and 15 minutes after takeoff, she landed in Natal. When the airfield mechanics ran up to her, she had already jumped to the ground. She could be heard singing. Jean patted the cockpit of the plane.

- My beautiful horse! My horse!

The first woman to fly alone across the South Atlantic broke all the men's records, including Jim Mollison's record set just two years ago. On December 30, 1930, the Frenchwoman Marisa Bastier, also flying alone, brought this record to 12 hours and 5 minutes. After that, the leaders of international flying clubs decided to hide their chronometers and no longer register record flights across the North or South Atlantic. What was needed was not records, but regular communication. The world's densest network of air routes will also be built over the ocean, the most explored and mastered, the most furrowed by various ships. After all, this body of water continues to play an important role in the life of mankind.